"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Set up: Priscilla Stillbottom is inquiring about a job as a singer in Payton Cobb's saloon.
"In case you haven't noticed, this is a saloon, and what I'm looking for is a saloon singer." His skeptical gaze perused her from top to bottom, then he slowly shook his head. "Excuse me for saying so, ma'am, but you hardly fit the bill."
Priscilla hoped his comments referred to her manner of dress and not her general appearance. Counting on that, she pleaded her case. "Oh, but please, sir--you've got to give me a chance. I can learn to sing anything, honest, I can. Won't you at least let me show you what I can do?"
...(Priscilla can't carry a tune in a bucket, but she doesn't know it. After a really dreadful audition, Payton's assistant talks him into giving Priscilla a one-week trial period. He reluctantly agrees, then sets down a few of his rules)...
"Another thing, sweetheart. Most folks come to mining camps like Central City for one of two reasons. One, they're looking to get rich by striking gold. Or two, they're running away from something. I'm not in the habit of asking folks what they're running from 'cause it's none of my damn business unless I decide to make them part of this establishment. Since I seem to have hired you, I've got to have some idea what kind of trouble you might be bringing along with you. Understand?"
Her heart in her throat, Priscilla nodded. "Yes, sir, I think I do."
"Then I have to ask--you didn't happen to run out on some fella who might come looking for you, did you?"
Weighing her options, Priscilla gulped. She couldn't imagine that her family, or even Boris Hardtack, might come looking for her, and yet she didn't want to lie, especially to her new employer who was obviously growing impatient for her to answer. As she mulled over her options, he asked yet another question, this time, getting right to the point.
"Let me make it a little plainer, Miss Prissy. Dressed the way you are, you look as if you've left some poor fool standing at the alter. Did you?"
Relief flooded her.
"Oh, goodness, no," she laughed, giddy with happiness over the fact that she hadn't been forced to lie to her new employer. And she hadn't. Not really. After all, Priscilla Stillbottom had not left her groom standing at the alter. She'd gone ahead and married him, and then she'd run away.
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Book Description Paperback. Condition: Good. Seller Inventory # SONG006108400X
Book Description Gut/Very good: Buch bzw. Schutzumschlag mit wenigen Gebrauchsspuren an Einband, Schutzumschlag oder Seiten. / Describes a book or dust jacket that does show some signs of wear on either the binding, dust jacket or pages. Seller Inventory # M0006108400X-V