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“How the hell do I know? If he’s alone, he’s alone. You’ll meet Grant, and you’ll do whatever he asks you to—none of this holier-than-thou behavior, Missy. You understand? He wants a kiss, you get off your high horse and give him a goddamned kiss.” With a leer, Colonel Wood leaned across his desk toward me. His liver-colored lips, beneath his awful mustache still bearing traces of the blackening he used onstage, smacked at me, making disgusting kissing sounds. “You know, you ain’t half bad looking in that photograph of yours. Not so bad in person, either. Is all of you so pretty and tiny? Might have to check that out someday, what the hell, cousin or not.” And he started to laugh again, making those awful kissing sounds.

It was as if a slimy snake had slithered down my spine; I shivered, even though the air was close and hot about me, threatening to cut off my breath. I slid off the chair and ran to the door but could not open it; I could not reach the latch no matter how high I jumped—and jump I did, panic closing in around my throat like a vise, cutting off my breath, my thoughts.

Finally, with a great leap, I did reach the latch, but my hand was so small it was difficult to grasp and pull; my panic did not help matters. My grip kept slipping and slipping until suddenly the door gave way, opened from the outside; I nearly fell into the hallway. The thin dancing girl, Carlotta, was staring down at me in surprise.

“Why, Vinnie, are you all right?”

I nodded. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Colonel Wood had not moved a muscle. He remained seated at his desk; he was even going through some papers as if I wasn’t there. And I had to wonder if he had actually said the things that I thought he had.

All at once my mind shifted, as if it were a mechanical thing and completely out of my control, toward Minnie, my dear sister. I thought of how small she was, so much smaller than me. How sweet, how innocent. Thank goodness she was still home; had I ever thought to go back for her, to show her that the world was not to be feared? “That dreadful man,” she had declared Colonel Wood before she had even seen him. I thought her so simple then; I had laughed at her. Now I wondered how she’d known.

But, of course, she didn’t. She was only afraid of the unknown in a way that I was not, at least not until this moment. I took a deep breath and told myself I would not begin to embrace such ideas. Mr. Grant was most likely a perfectly respectable man with a family; why else would he not wish to step foot upon the boat?

As for Colonel Wood—why, I would simply not allow myself to be alone with him again. It was an easy enough thing to accomplish; the boat was always full of people. There was no reason why I ever had to be alone with that man. And I knew I had only to ask and Sylvia would not leave my side.

Calm again, I walked with Carlotta toward the dining room, where I could hear my traveling companions talking, joshing, breaking into bits of song over the clash of silver and china. My heart lightened, for I knew they would be happy to see me. And indeed they were; as soon as I entered the dining room, there were cries of “Vinnie, Vinnie, come sit by me!”

I took a seat next to Mrs. Billy Birch and listened to all the good-natured gossip. Apparently Carlotta, seated by my side and suddenly all blushes and modest glances, was engaged to one of the regulars—the unattached young men who followed our boat up and down the river on their own pathetic rafts or canoes, looking for occasional work or trying to make a living fishing or peddling. Mrs. Billy asked me if I’d like to help make her a decent trousseau.

I nodded, happy for Carlotta. She had no future as a performer, poor dear. Getting married was the wisest thing she could do.

I joined in the congratulations without the slightest twinge of jealousy, and promised to contribute a cotton nightgown.

* * *

GALENA WAS A PRETTY LITTLE RIVER TOWN, LIKE ALL THE others—hilly, with a main thoroughfare