not what I had in mind for her, May. I wanted a contrast to your way of singing. You know, lifting her dress and showing her legs some. A fast song with words the men in the crowd will get a kick out of.”
May snorted, a strangely inelegant sound coming from such a woman, Lily thought. “You don’t know diddly about what men want from a singer, Scott. Lily has a body that’ll show up well in most anything she wears. And keeping them guessing about her legs will have them on the edges of their seats.”
“Well, she’s not wearin’ that rag,” Ham said bluntly. “I want her in the red satin.”
“No.” It was a softly spoken denial, yet held a definite threat should it be ignored. “She won’t be wearing it again.” Morgan shoved away from the doorway and approached Ham, the red satin crumpled in his hand. “We’re docking somewhere today, aren’t we?”
Ham nodded, his look at Morgan bordering on anger. Yet he held his tongue, as though he dared not argue with the man who faced him.
“When the boat stops later this morning, I’ll find something for Lily to wear.” The glance he shot in her direction was eloquent, and Lily was silent. “She needs to wear something that makes a man wish he owned her, but at the same time establishes her unavailability to those in the crowd.”
Ham’s eyes narrowed and he held up a hand in protest. “See here, Morgan. I’m not investing money in the girl so’s she can look like the picture on a box of candy and be just about as touchable. These men are willing to pay for the women they want.”
Morgan straightened from his relaxed stance and tucked one hand in his trouser pocket. “I’m buying her company for the rest of the trip downriver,” he said mildly. At Ham’s grunt of derision, Morgan smiled and showed the edges of straight, white teeth. He resembled a wolf about to attack, Lily decided, and apparently Ham thought along a similar vein.
“Long as you’ve got hard, cold cash, she’s yours,” the man said after a moment. “But you’ll pay a high price, Morgan. I’ve had several offers already.”
“This isn’t the place for this discussion,” Morgan told him, his voice a low, menacing growl. And then he looked once more at Lily. “I think the lady needs to voice an opinion on the matter.”
She looked down at the floor, wishing herself a million miles away, and was relieved to feel May’s arm around her shoulders. “Y’all need to leave the girl alone,” May said with a decided lilt in her voice. “She’s got more important things to think about right now. We’ve got music to work on.”
She waved long, graceful fingers in a languid movement at the two men and laughed, a dark, smoky sound. “Go on now. Out with the pair of you. You can settle your business somewhere else.”
Morgan nodded, his final look in Lily’s direction one of approval, she thought. At least his eyes warmed as they focused on her face, and she thought a small smile tilted his lips for just a moment.
“He’s smitten,” May said bluntly. “You must have given him quite a night of—”
“No.” The single word was a denial of May’s assumption, spoken softly but firmly as Lily met the other woman’s gaze. “I gave him nothing. Nothing but conversation and my company in his room until morning.”
May looked dubious, but laughed aloud. “Well, keeping him dangling seems to be working, sweetheart. Just don’t let it go to your head. One of these days, or nights, he’ll expect payment for his protection of you.” She smiled and bent her head, the better to speak in Lily’s ear.
“I’ve never heard of Gage Morgan buying a woman’s favors. You’re a first.”
“You know him?” Lily’s eyes widened as she watched May’s smile. The woman’s dark eyes flashed with humor, and she smiled openly, yet Lily would lay odds that they held an abundance of secrets.
“He’s been on the riverboat before, a couple of times in the past months.”
“Is he only a gambler? Or does he have another occupation?”
May shrugged idly. “Who knows? He gambles, but I have a notion he doesn’t need to, not for his spending money anyway. The girls would give their eye teeth to have him pay them a little notice, but he’s not that way.”
Lily nodded, her thoughts spinning as she considered May’s remarks. The man was not poor, of that there was no doubt. And yet he seemed to her to be more ambitious than his occupation would indicate. “Maybe he comes from well-to-do people,” Lily surmised.
“Well, it doesn’t matter much right now,” May said flatly. “This morning we’ve got a program to work up for you. Ham won’t let you sing center stage if the audience doesn’t take to you.” She motioned to Charlie, who had strolled back into the saloon from the deck outside.
“Let’s try a couple of ballads, Charlie. How about ‘Swanee River’? Do you know that one, Lily?”
“I think so.” In fact, it was a song she’d heard from childhood, one her mother had sung to her. “Let me try it.”
May stalked her, pacing in a circle as she sang, and Lily finally closed her eyes, the better to concentrate on the words that appeared in her mind as Charlie’s talented fingers moved up and down the keyboard. “Now let’s try ‘A Soldier’s Farewell,’” May said, and Charlie obligingly changed keys and began a short introduction.
Lily recalled the words as she waited for her cue to begin and then the music became merely a backdrop for her voice as Charlie played chords that supported the music she created.
“Lift one hand a bit. That’s it,” May said quietly. “Now touch the skin beneath your eye with the tips of your fingers. Just a whisper of movement, as if you might have shed a tear.”
Lily’s eyes flew open and she felt her throat thicken as the melody soared. A lace-edged handkerchief in her pocket was in her hand then, and the gesture she obediently performed bore fruit as a lone tear slid from each eye.
“You’ll have them cheering and standing on their feet, honey,” May said. “Just keep that innocent look on your face, and don’t meet their eyes. Keep lookin’ over their heads as if you’re watching for some handsome stranger to come in the door.”
And well she might be, Lily thought. Although Gage Morgan was no longer a stranger. She’d spent the night with him, slept in his arms, if his word could be believed. And if she were to be completely honest, she had to acknowledge she bore no memory of those hours, as if she had been aware of the safety he offered.
“Well,” May said after a moment, “I think Ham Scott would be a fool to waste you on serving beer.”
“I’m no fool,” the man said from the doorway. “We’ll give you a shot at it tonight, Lily. It’ll be sink or swim.”
Behind him, Morgan watched and then turned aside.
Chapter Three
T he applause soared to the ceiling of the saloon and Lily bent her head in response, then stood upright to face the men before her. Breathless as she heard the whistles and stomping feet of the men who cheered her performance, she relished the moment of undiluted pleasure.
Standing
