Diane T. Ashley (33 page)

Everyone on board both the
Ophelia
and its tugboat was talking about the big race that would begin the Fourth of July festivities tomorrow morning. Some of the tugboat crew even wanted Captain Ross to enter the race. David was glad the man had refused. His intuition told him that if the robbers were nearby, they would use the distraction of the celebration to their advantage. He planned to set up watch outside the bank and catch them red-handed. Once he had arrested the culprits, he would wire the home office that he was taking some time off and redouble his efforts to get Jasmine away from this band of gypsy actors.

The sound of a distant bell brought his head up. It was time for church. Clem had asked him last night if he planned to attend, but if he didn’t hurry, he was going to be late. He squinted in the bright sunlight as he reached the outside deck, surprise and pleasure filling him at the sight of both Clem and Jasmine apparently awaiting his escort.

“See, I told you he was coming.” Clem pointed her finger at Jasmine. “You owe me a forfeit.”

Holding out an elbow for each of them, he grinned. “No one’s ever placed a bet on me before.”

“Don’t act so conceited. “Jasmine ignored his arm, stepping onto the gangplank. “Clem wouldn’t leave until you appeared, even though I told her you’d make all of us late.”

“I suppose we’d better hurry then.”

Clinging to his arm for support, Clem managed to keep up with his long strides. Rebellious Jasmine was having more trouble. He could hear her huffing and puffing, but he refused to be manipulated by the sound. She had refused his offer of support, so unless she asked for help, she could make her own way.

“Will you take part in the pageant?” Clem sounded breathless, so David slowed his pace a little.

“I doubt it. I’m not interested in racing. I’ll probably just wander around town and visit the booths.” He had no intention of letting Clem or anyone else know his real plans.

Disappointment made her smile droop. “I see.”

Jasmine caught up with them as David and Clem reached the dirt lane on the edge of town. The deserted streets didn’t surprise him. Shopkeepers were either attending church or sleeping late on their one day off. Even the ferries would not run until after midday in observance of the Lord’s Day.

As they reached the street the church faced, a movement at the end of a nearby alley made David turn his head. He only caught a glimpse but thought he recognized the dark hair and tall frame of Rafe Griffin. Expecting to see the man as they turned the corner, he immediately grew suspicious when no one appeared. Why was Rafe skulking about?

The question continued bothering him as they entered the one-room church. The center aisle was flanked on both sides by rows of benches. David would have preferred finding an empty spot in the back of the sanctuary, but Clem tugged him forward until they reached the front.

The preacher, a gray-haired man with a weathered face, smiled at the three of them. “Welcome.”

David shook the man’s hand. “Thank you.” He stood in the aisle, feeling the combined gazes of the good people of Cairo on his face, as first Clem and then Jasmine sat on the first pew. When he sat, Jasmine put her hand on her skirt and pulled it closer to her body as though she didn’t want him to touch her at all. He crossed his hands over his chest and ignored her.

“I was going to talk to you about the importance of stewardship today, but God helped me come awake before the sun this morning. He filled my mind with another sermon, one that I feel compelled to share with you.” The pastor opened his Bible. “For those of you who brought your Bibles, I’ll be reading from the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. I’m always amazed when I read this chapter about the sower of seeds.”

David heard the intake of Jasmine’s breath. He was glad she was listening. She had not been showing him much sign that she still turned to God on a daily basis. Maybe this trip to church would help her renew her faith.

“I’ve often wondered about the man sowing the seeds in this parable. Many of you are farmers, and I know you wouldn’t bother to plant your precious seed out there on top of rocks, would you?”

A couple of the men answered in the negative.

“Would you plant them so shallowly that animals could eat them or fail to pull the weeds from your fields before you planted your seed?”

No one answered the question this time, but David could tell by the silence behind him that the pastor had everyone’s attention.

“Of course you wouldn’t. If you did, your families would starve. So why does Jesus tell us about someone being so foolish?” The pastor stopped to let the question settle in. “Because He knows that any one of us can have a stony heart. He knows that any of us can become shallow and self-absorbed. We can forget our faith when we become distracted by the pleasures of this world.”

David sat a little straighter in the pew. He hoped Jasmine was paying close attention. He knew God must have meant for the pastor to choose these verses for her sake.

“But that’s not the only point of this story. It’s not the only lesson Jesus wants us to learn. So why didn’t He tell us about only sowing seed in rich, prepared soil?” The pastor looked straight at David, the fire of his message lighting his eyes. “Friends, you and I need to remember that we as Christians are the sowers. We’re not supposed to worry about the fruit of the Gospel. We can’t make the seed we spread grow. All God wants us to do is sow His seed. He will take care of the rest.”

David’s mouth fell open. He forgot all about Jasmine and her lack of faith as the truth pierced his own heart. He had been so busy trying to correct Jasmine’s behavior, trying to make her act like he thought a Christian sister should. That wasn’t his job. All God wanted him to do was sow the seed. He was trying to change Jasmine, an impossible task for a human being. Only Jesus could change someone.

As God continued to speak to him through the preacher, David determined to be the witness God needed him to be. He sent a prayer heavenward for the strength he knew it would take.

F
olding chairs lined the decks of the two larger steamboats for the addition of paying guests during the race. Vance purchased tickets for himself and Jasmine—and with a little prodding, Clem—on the
Marc Antony
. The sun had barely escaped the horizon as they took their seats on the spotless deck. Streamers hung limply from the rails in preparation for the extreme speeds the boat would attain during the contest.

“Do you think we’ll win?” Clem wore a hat with a wide brim to shade her face. She had secured it to her head with a blue lawn scarf that matched the color of her dress.

Jasmine could imagine an artist capturing her friend’s excited face and fashionable appearance for use in
Harper’s Bazaar
. “It doesn’t really matter. All we have to do is enjoy the scenery.”

A white-coated server appeared with steaming cups of chocolate to warm them against the cool, damp air. Vance handed her a cup, and Jasmine held it close to her face, inhaling the sweet fragrance.

“It’s a shame your brother couldn’t join us.” Clem sipped from her mug.

Vance’s face showed his disagreement with the statement, although he made no comment. “I don’t see how we can lose. In fact, I’ve wagered a large sum of money on it. The
Marc Antony
is a modern boat with the latest innovations. She’s only been on the water for half a year.”

Jasmine slid a glance in his direction. “I hope you’re not disappointed. It’s not always the date on the boiler that decides the victor. The
Davy Crockett
may be older, but she has a knowledgeable pilot and an experienced crew. She might have been a better choice.”

His unsettled glance toward her made Jasmine wonder if Vance needed to win his bet. The idea took root in her mind like an evil weed. If he was having money problems, it would make him more likely to join himself with bank robbers. But that made no sense, either. The man who had been working with the robbers wouldn’t have money troubles. He’d be flush with his ill-gotten gain.

The boat filled up with other passengers—twenty in all—and the gangplank was lifted away from the bank.

Jasmine turned to Vance. “How long will the race take?”

“We’ll be traveling downriver ten miles to a small island. Each boat must circumnavigate the island before returning to Cairo. The captain estimates that it will take less than two hours total to get back to the finish line at that cottonwood.” He pointed to a large tree overhanging the bank some yards away. Someone had plaited its thick limbs with wide lengths of red. “The first boat to capture a ribbon will be declared the winner.”

“We won’t miss anything while we’re gone, will we?” Clem leaned forward, her gaze fixed on the people beginning to line up on the riverbank. “I noticed the fliers mentioned races and equestrian exhibitions.”

“I doubt it.” Jasmine put her free hand on the arm of Clem’s chair. “Most everyone is going to be waiting to see who wins the race.”

“Yoo-hoo.” A feminine voice gained her attention. “Look, it’s Angelica and Rafe. They’re on the
Davy Crockett
.”

“Too bad they chose the losing steamboat.” Vance’s smug words were as irritating as a swarm of gnats.

Jasmine gritted her teeth and waved at the other couple. “As long as everyone has a good time, it doesn’t really matter.”

They watched as a short, barrel-chested man climbed onto the stage that would be the central focus of the day’s activities and addressed the crowd. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I know everyone’s eager to begin our patriotic celebration, but please bear with me for a few moments while I cover some of the rules we’ll be observing.”

A general groan or two from the crowd showed their disapproval, but the man continued anyway. He warned that no weapons were to be discharged except the starter gun and asked everyone to maintain polite and civil manners. He went on to point out the doctor’s tent next to the stage and expressed his hope that no one would be in need of medical service. He reminded them of the various contests that would be going on during the day, the dramatic performance that would begin at dusk, and the fireworks spectacular that promised to end the day with a “bang.” A louder groan answered his sally, and a grin split the man’s face. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small pistol and aimed it toward the sky.

Jasmine saw the puff of smoke before she heard the report of his weapon. The crowd cheered as the deck below her feet began to shudder. Thick, black plumes of smoke poured from the twin stacks above their heads, while behind them, the paddlewheel roared to life. The race had begun.

Clem jumped to her feet, leaning over the rail and waving at the people they swept past. Jasmine would have joined her, but Vance reached over and put a hand on her arm. “If this race goes like I expect, things are going to be different for me in the future, and I hope different for you, too.”

The girl she’d been when she first ran away would have been ecstatic because of his words and the intense look he gave her. Jasmine found herself hoping she misunderstood his intent. The direction of her thoughts surprised her. She had never thought of herself as being fickle, but whatever feelings she’d had about Vance seemed to have disappeared.

Was it her or him? Had she ever really loved Vance? She wasn’t sure anymore. Jasmine shook off his hand without an answer and stood next to Clem, looking to see whether they were still in the lead.

At the moment it was hard to tell who would win. Their boat rode the choppy waters of the confluence with steady purpose, as did the
Davy Crockett
. The smaller boats were out in front for the moment, but she knew that would probably change on the way back to Cairo when they fought the strong currents of the swift water.

“Look, is that the island?” Clem pointed toward a small spot of green ahead.

Jasmine shook her head. “If it’s that close, the race won’t last fifteen minutes, much less two hours.”

Vance made a space for himself between them, but his eyes focused on her face. “Would you like to take a tour of the boat?”

She looked past him to Clem, who nodded. “I don’t think there will be much to see out here until we reach the halfway point.”

The three of them picked their way between the seats of the other onlookers and headed for the main room on the lower deck. A large table in the center of the room was piled high with an array of breakfast foods. Biscuits, fresh fruit, bacon, scrambled eggs, jams, and jellies looked tempting. They were welcomed by the staff and offered delicate porcelain plates and gleaming silverware.

Jasmine’s stomach growled. She looked at Vance. “How much did our tickets cost?”

He shrugged, a smile on his face. “You’re worth the price, Jasmine.”

Clem rolled her eyes, accepted a plate, and began heaping food onto it. “I, for one, am glad she is.”

Jasmine chose a fluffy biscuit and a spoonful of eggs, glad she hadn’t taken time to eat before leaving the
Ophelia
. The food was delicious, and Clem’s enthusiasm was contagious. She hoped the rest of the day would be equally enjoyable.

They had barely finished when one of the passengers came running inside. “We’re about to reach the island.”

Jasmine looked around to see that all four boats were running very close. She had no idea who would reach the finish first.