The Grand Masquerade (The Bold Women Series Book 4) by Amanda Hughes Page A

hair was clean, and his demeanor was friendly. His lifted his tattered straw hat, mopped his brow and nodded a greeting.
    “Where you come from?” the girl asked. 
    “Devil’s Backbone Stand on The Trace,” Sydnee replied.
    “Come far?” the young man asked.
    “Over two weeks walk.” Sydnee said. “Would--would you know of any work around Natchez?”
    The girl studied her a moment and said, “You sound French. You French?’
    Sydnee shook her head.
    “I reckon San-Souci plantation might need help,” the young man said. “Head left at the fork. You’ll be off The Trace, but keep followin’ the trail. It’ll take you right down to the plantation.”
    “Thank you,” Sydnee murmured.
    “God’s speed,” the girl called.
    Sydnee turned left at the fork feeling hopeful about the future. Perhaps it is cotton picking time, or maybe there are vegetables to harvest. Surely these large plantations have work.
    She spied a patch of blue beyond the trees, and her heart lurched. Is it possible? And she walked a little farther. “There it is!” she cried.
    Sydnee began to run, stopping with a jolt before she fell down a steep embankment. Throwing her hat, she dropped her pack and grabbed the trunk of a tree, swinging forward to look at the Mississippi River. Her mouth dropped open in awe as it stretched out before her in all of its glory. Never had she seen anything so magnificent! The panorama was breathtaking. White clouds climbed overhead like huge ghosts ascending to the heavens, with the wide river rippling noiselessly below. The sun seemed to glimmer on the surface like sparks of white fire.
    She slid down the riverbank, clutching branches and trees for support. The underbrush was thick with orange tiger lilies, and when she reached the shore, she stepped out onto a large boulder, putting her hand up to shade her eyes. The dogs joined her as Vivian soared overhead, riding the air currents.
    Sydnee had never seen anything so beautiful, and she fell in love with the Mississippi instantly. A light breeze lifted her hair and tossed it around her face. The air was cool and tinged with the scent of fish.
    Suddenly there was a blast of noise more deafening than any clap of thunder. Terrified, Sydnee dropped into a crouch, covering her head. The dogs charged back up the hill in a panic. There was a rhythmic splash, splash of water and a deep rumbling.
    Cautiously, Sydnee stood up. There in front of her, gliding on the water, was a moving mansion which was propelled by a large red wheel churning water from the back.
    There was another blast and black smoke belched from a tall, fluted stack on the roof. Sydnee covered her ears, but this time she did not crouch. She knew that she was seeing her first riverboat. The stern-wheeler was white and several stories high, all trimmed in gold.
      So these are the famous steamboats of the Mississippi .
    The women strolled carelessly on deck with colorful parasols, resting on their shoulders as the gentlemen leaned on the railings, dressed in fine suits, smoking cigars.
    Sydnee memorized every inch of the riverboat as it went by. She noted the white shuttered doors and the gilded arches, the red paddle wheel, and the two black smoke stacks. When she spied a square piece of fabric, flapping atop a tall pole, she shaded her eyes to see more clearly. It had a curious design of red and white stripes next to a blue square with a circle of stars. It was pretty.
    Sydnee dropped her hand and sighed. More than anything else in this world, she wanted to ride a riverboat. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. As she watched it fade into the distance, the smile faded from her face as well.
    Just as she was about to climb back up the hill, she saw another boat come around the bend. She heard about these crafts all her life, but this was more than she expected. A massive floating barge, the Mississippi broadhorn was more than two stories high. Sydnee blinked in amazement. She spied