The Red Rose at The Weston Saloon
Nightly performances from 9:00 p.m. to midnight
Daily raffle winners may request a song from the Red Rose
Don’t miss this singing, dancing sensation all the way from California!
Customers shoved past the picketers and crowded into the saloon that evening. Whether or not people believed the Red Rose existed, most were eager to satisfy their curiosity. Finished modifying her costume by eight o’clock, Lily spent the last hour until she performed trembling in Jesse’s office. She had never been so nervous in her life. She feared both that the performance would be a failure and that her identity would be discovered. Of course, she took efforts to ensure the latter did not happen. After stripping the black netting from the shoulders and neck of her new silk dress, she sewed it to the hat Charlotte had given her. By the time she’d finished, the netting served as an effective mask that disguised her face while still allowing her to see through it.
She looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize her own body. The dress was very revealing now that not even netting covered her shoulders and arms. The center dipped down, revealing generous cleavage. She’d also taken a pair of scissors and cut a slit in the skirt up to mid-thigh. Under the dress she wore a pair of Florence’s black lacy bloomers, which would flash into view with every kick and swish during her performance.
Lily took a few long, deep breaths. She was about to do what she’d wanted to do since a very young age, and she thought she would feel more excited. The desperate circumstances and the sneaky nature of the performance, however, kept her from enjoying the moment. Still, she knew she needed to put her worries aside and give it her all. When the clock chimed nine times, she heard Daniel begin the first song on the piano.
It took considerable courage for her to walk out the door of Jesse’s office, but she did, and on cue, she took a step into main room of the saloon. Every head turned in her direction when she sang her first quiet note. Her voice’s crescendo was as gradual as her approach to the makeshift stage by the piano. There she sang with abandon, and the rich, soulful melody drifted into every hard crevice and heart in the saloon. She scanned the room as she sang and saw more than one man wipe a tear from his cheek.
The applause at the end of her first song was so loud and raucous that Lily felt a surge of courage. She could do this. The opening of men’s hearts led to an opening of their wallets. Coin after coin fell at her feet until she started singing again, at which time the room fell into perfect silence once again.
The next tune was jaunty. Lily danced as she sang, growling some of the risqué lyrics and offering a peek at her legs with a lift of her skirts every so often. She was really good at this, she realized as she performed—better than she’d thought she would be. Again the song ended and again coins fell at her feet. This time Florence floated onto the stage and swept the money into a bag.
When Lily sang the final note of her third song, she looked around and noticed one man in the crowd who wasn’t whooping or clapping. Instead he observed her with a thoughtful frown. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized it was Max. It dawned on her why he must be regarding her in such a way. Here she was wearing a hat of Charlotte’s that was as unique to the town of Weston as Charlotte herself. No doubt he recognized it as his wife’s.
Somehow she pushed Max’s likely recognition and the ramifications of that out of her mind to perform for the rest of the night. After her performance was complete and she’d retired to Jesse’s office to change into her plain cotton dress, Florence burst in. “My heavens, Lily darling. You have saved us.” She emptied the bag of coins on the desk. “I’m positive that the money you made tonight practically pays for the next month’s supply of whiskey. By the end of the week, if customers keep shelling out, our business will be back to normal. I can’t thank you enough.” Florence started organizing the coins on the desk.
Lily smiled and expressed how glad she was to hear the good news, but seeing Max had rattled her, and she didn’t feel like reveling in her success. Her strongest desire was to get home and under the comforting warmth of the quilt on her bed. Taking her leave, she slipped out the back door and started her trek home. After sidestepping a drunk who nearly fell on her, she walked a little faster, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders.
After a few paces, a deep voice regarded her. “Lily, is that you?”
She started and turned to look at where the voice came from. Max stepped out from the alley next to the saloon and strode toward her.
“Oh. Hi, Max,” she stammered. The light from the full moon allowed Lily to see the blacksmith’s disapproving expression as he approached.