The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

  With that, Merrick lunged at John like a battering ram and shoved him backward into the broken wardrobe. John collapsed in a heap of arms and legs and splintered wood. The rubes closed in to get a better view of the action, gawking and standing on their tiptoes to see over one another’s shoulders and heads. Several men stepped forward, their chins raised, their hands in fists. Lilly moved away from them, her breath coming shallow and fast. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. She, Merrick, Alana, and Pierre were surrounded. John shook his head, then clambered out of the smashed wardrobe and staggered to his feet.

  “You sons a bitches!” one of the rubes shouted. “I want my money back!”

  “Me too!” a woman yelled.

  This brought more angry shouts from the crowd. Finally, Mr. Barlow’s patches pushed their way through the gathering and stormed toward the tent. Patches normally calmed unhappy customers by offering free tickets to the big show, or—if the problem rube was male—giving them a free pass to the special “event” in the back lot behind the baggage wagons, which was accessible only by word of mouth. But once in a while, they had to use force. This was one of those times.

  At first, John thought the patches were angry rubes, coming forward to back him up. Then they charged him and his eyes went wide, looking around frantically for an escape route. Before he had a chance to run, one of the patches grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, wrapped a muscular arm around his neck, and dragged him away from the now-leaning tent. John sputtered and clawed at the patch’s arm, but couldn’t get away. The other patch stood between Lilly and the crowd with his arms crossed, daring the rubes to try something. Merrick raised his hands again and spoke to the irritated mob.

  “Okay, folks, okay. Everything’s fine. The heckler has been removed from the area. If you’ve already paid to see The Albino Medium, we’ll give you a full refund. She won’t be doing any more readings this afternoon. Everyone else, it’s time to move along. There’s nothing more to see here.”

  The rubes who already paid grumbled and moved toward Alana, shoving and pushing to get in line for their refunds. The rest were reluctant to leave, afraid they might miss something.

  Merrick waved them away. “Go on now,” he said. “Move along.”

  Mr. Barlow pushed his way through the stragglers. “What the hell is going on over here?” he asked Merrick.

  Merrick turned his back to the rubes and kept his voice low. “Someone outed her. The rubes heard everything.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Mr. Barlow said. “What did she do now?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Lilly said. “That rube had his mind made up before he came into my tent.”

  “His mind made up about what?” Mr. Barlow said.

  “Me being a fraud,” Lilly said.

  Several women in the refund line heard what Lilly said and gasped, then turned to spread the word, whispering behind their hands.

  “Shut up, you dumb bitch,” Merrick hissed at Lilly.

  “I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t want to lie to people anymore. I can’t.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you want,” Merrick said. “You do what I tell you to do. Without me, you’d still be locked in your parents’ attic, half out of your mind. I saved your sorry ass and I own you.” He glared at her, daring her to speak.

  She said nothing. There was no point.

  He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Go back to the train and stay there. After we fix the tent, you’re on again.”

  Mr. Barlow scanned the collection of angry rubes, his brow creased. “It’s too late for that,” he said. “Word is out she’s a gaff and it’ll spread like wildfire. Once the cops hear about it, we’ll get heat for sure.” He cursed under his breath and balled his hands into fists. “And at our biggest venue.” He pointed a finger at Merrick, anger flickering in his eyes. “Come up with a new act for her. In the meantime, she can recoup your losses by working for Josephine in the cooch show.”

  CHAPTER 20

  JULIA

  Two days after the ice storm and Fletcher’s surprise visit, the weather warmed and everything began to thaw. Water dripped into the already soaked ground, and snow and ice fell off roofs and buildings in giant, wet chunks. Tube-shaped pieces dropped from branches and wires, and dark patches of green grass and wet stone became visible beneath fields of translucent ice. The power came back on and the furnace sprang to life in the basement of Blackwood Manor. The house ticked as it began to warm.

  Julia wrapped a sweater around herself and watched the wet scene from the kitchen window, sipping a cup of hot tea and honey. Over at the barn, a truck and horse trailer backed into the driveway. At first, she thought it was Fletcher’s truck, but a man she’d never seen before got out and went into the office.

  Fletcher had stopped in the previous day to check the pipes like he said he would, but he only stayed a few minutes. A client was waiting at another farm and he couldn’t be late. He was polite but business-like, and Julia didn’t know what to say other than thank you. She thought about apologizing, but for what, she wasn’t sure. For their awkward exchange? For asking him to leave so quickly? For sending him out on the ice-covered roads after he’d been kind enough to check in on her? He was the one who made the decision to venture out to Blackwood Manor on such a treacherous night. She hadn’t asked him to come. And it wasn’t her job to keep him safe. Besides, even if she had wanted him to stay, for safety reasons or otherwise, the last thing she needed was for Claude to think something was going on between them. Still, she hated the thought of him being mad at her.

  Over at the barn, the man got back in his truck, backed the trailer up to the main door, got out, and went into the office again. Julia furrowed her brow. What was going on? Claude hadn’t said anything about a new horse being delivered or any of them being sold. And he wouldn’t make those decisions without asking her anyway. Would he? She stared out the window, paralyzed by indecision. She didn’t know whether to go over there and ask, or wait and see what happened. Then, before she could make up her mind, the man got in his truck and drove away, and Claude let some of the horses out in the main paddock. The horses ran and kicked and rolled in the snow, enjoying their freedom after being stuck in the barn during the storm. Bonnie Blue raced out of the barn and galloped around the perimeter of the fence, her head held high, her nostrils flaring. She looked desperate, whinnying and calling out, waiting for someone to answer.

  Julia’s heart dropped.

  Where was Samantha?

  She set her cup down on the counter so hard it nearly cracked, then hurried into the mudroom, threw on boots and a jacket, and flew out the door. If something had happened to Samantha, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. She rushed across the yard, sidestepping icy patches and puddles until she reached the barn, then yanked open the office door. She ran through the office and burst into the center aisle, searching frantically for Claude. He was putting straw in one of the stalls.

  “Where’s Samantha?” she said, her voice rattled by fear. “I saw Blue outside alone and she’s beside herself!”

  Claude stopped spreading the straw and looked at her, confusion written on his face. “She’s with a nurse mare.”

  “Why?” Julia said. “Blue is frantic!” Her racing heart slowed, but only a little.

  Claude gave her a stern look, as if she should know the answer. “Blue is one of our top producers. We need to breed her again as soon as possible.”

  “What does that have to do with taking Samantha away from her?”

  “We need Samantha to stop nursing so Blue will go into heat again.”

  “But Samantha is only three days old. She’s too young to be taken from her mother!”

  Claude shrugged. “That’s the way it’s done. Blue will get over it. She always does.”

  A surge of sorrow and anger welled up in Julia’s chest. She knew hard decisions sometimes had to be made when working with animals, but taking a three-day-old foal away from it
s mother was ridiculous and cruel. For the first time in her life, she was so mad she didn’t care what Claude or anyone else thought. The horses belonged to her now, and she had pledged to take care of them. “Where is she?” she asked again.

  He lifted his chin, indicating the other end of the barn. “In with the nurse mare who delivered last night.”

  “What’s a nurse mare? Explain it to me like I’m in first grade.”

  Irritation furrowed Claude’s brow. “A nurse mare is a horse who just foaled and is able to produce milk. We use nurse mares to nurse other foals, foals that might be worth money. Like Blue’s filly, Samantha.”

  “So the nurse mare is taking care of two babies?”

  “No, just Blue’s.”

  Julia frowned. “What about the nurse mare’s foal? Where is it?”

  Claude went back to spreading straw.

  “Where is it? Tell me.”

  He looked at her, his face flat. “We send nurse mare foals to auction.”

  “Is that what that truck was doing here? Picking up the nurse mare’s foal?”

  Claude nodded.

  “So you took Blue’s three-day-old filly away from her and gave it to the nurse mare, then took the nurse mare’s newborn away from her and sent it to auction?”

  He took off his gloves and fixed hard eyes on her. “The sooner you learn that nurse mare foals are by-products of the racing industry and the pharmaceutical industry, the better off you’ll be. Some farms let nurse mare foals starve, club them to death, or sell them for skin and meat. We don’t do that here.”

  “Well, how do you know the foal won’t be sold for skin and meat at the auction?”

  “I don’t.”

  Julia bunched her hands into fists at her sides. “Go get it.”

  He gaped at her. “Beg your pardon?”

  “I want you to put Samantha back in Blue’s stall with her. Then I want you to go get the nurse mare’s foal and bring it back here.”

  Claude sighed loudly and shook his head. “Sorry, but that’s not how it’s done, Miss Blackwood. This is a business, not a place for bleeding hearts.”

  “Well, I own this business now and we’re doing things my way. No more taking foals away from their mothers and no more sending newborns to auction.”

  Claude straightened his shoulders and jutted out his chin. “We’re trying to make money here. We raise racehorses and show horses, not barnyard pets.”

  “I don’t care. I’ve seen the books and we’ve got plenty of money. And while I’m in charge, we’re not taking babies from their mothers. We’ll have to figure out another way to make things work.”

  Just then, Fletcher came into the barn. “What’s going on?”

  Claude came out of the stall and yanked off his gloves. “Ask her,” he said, and stormed away. He exited through the open barn door, got in his truck, slammed the driver’s side door, and sped out of the driveway, gravel shooting from his back tires.

  Fletcher looked at Julia, eyebrows raised. “Where’s he going in such a hurry?”

  Despite her conviction that she was doing the right thing, she was on the verge of tears. Her knees shook as adrenaline left her body. Putting her foot down and saying what she thought was exhausting. “To get the nurse mare’s foal and bring it back here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I don’t want foals taken from mares or sent to auction,” she said. “Ever.”

  Fletcher crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his face somber. “Okay. But that means more time between births and fewer horses to sell.”

  “I don’t care. Blackwood Farm is doing perfectly fine, and if we have to get by on less in the future, we’ll figure that out when the time comes. But I refuse to make money that way. Now, will you please help me give Samantha back to Bonnie Blue?”

  He put on a pair of gloves and studied her, the hint of a grin on his face. “Yes, Miss Blackwood.”

  She turned and started down the aisle in the other direction.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he said. “I thought you wanted help taking Samantha to Blue?”

  “You can do it,” she called over her shoulder. “Their stall needs to be cleaned.” She entered Blue’s stall and got to work.

  In truth, she needed to be alone. The thought of foals being taken away from their mothers, ripped without warning from everything familiar and loved, then starved, clubbed, or sold for meat, tore her heart to shreds. Tears filled her eyes as she imagined Blue and the nurse mare, scared and confused and frantic, wondering why someone had taken their babies. She could almost feel the horrible, heavy pain in their chests, the terror and helplessness in their minds. It didn’t matter that they were animals. Mares still possessed the maternal instinct. She had seen it with her own eyes when Bonnie Blue looked back at her newborn filly. It was love at first sight. Her mother had never looked at her that way, but Julia had studied enough interactions between mothers and daughters to recognize unconditional love when she saw it. Then another thought hit her and she had to stop working.

  How many foals had been taken away from their mothers at Blackwood Manor Horse Farm? How many horses’ hearts had been broken because of her parents’ greed? How could anyone be that callous year after year after year? What kind of people were her parents anyway?

  CHAPTER 21

  LILLY

  Wearing a white silk gown, kitten heels, satin evening gloves, and a white feather boa, Lilly shivered in front of a cracked mirror in the cooch show dressing tent, despite the fact that it was well over ninety degrees outside and the inside of the tent felt hotter still. She hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and her empty stomach twisted with nerves and bile. Behind her, half-naked women wiped red lipstick off their lips, scrubbed beauty marks from their cheeks, and peeled tassels off their nipples. They were done for the night, and now it was time for the final cooch show act—Lilly Blackwood. It was all she could do not to throw up.

  Earlier, Josephine had insisted Rosy and Ruby add color to Lilly’s face, so Ruby drew a beauty mark above Lilly’s mouth while Rosy lined her eyes with black liner and applied fake lashes.

  “What did Cole say about Mr. Barlow putting you in the cooch show?” Ruby said. She patted a makeup brush into a pot of rouge and brushed it over Lilly’s cheeks.

  “He punched a hole in the wall of a boxcar and nearly broke his hand,” Lilly said.

  “Oh God,” Ruby said. “Did you tell him it was only until Merrick comes up with a new act for you?”

  Lilly nodded, a burning lump growing in her throat. She had tried to tell Cole that no matter who saw her naked, she was still the same girl who came to him in the menagerie at night. She was still the same girl who snuck into his sleeper car when no one was looking, and followed him into the fields to make love beneath the stars. It was hard enough knowing she was being forced to appear naked onstage, but the thought of losing Cole was more than her heart could bear. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but what would he think of her after she revealed herself to the world?

  “And?” Rosy said. “What did he say?”

  Lilly’s eyes filled. “He said he needed some time alone and walked away.”

  “Jeepers,” Ruby said. She dabbed a tissue in the corner of Lilly’s eyes to stop her makeup from running. “Well, he can’t be mad at you for it.”

  Lilly shrugged.

  “You know,” Rosy said, applying lipstick to Lilly’s lips. “Some men find it exciting to think about other men ogling their woman’s body.” She winked playfully and grinned.

  “Yeah,” Ruby said. “For some reason, the thought of dating a cooch show girl gets their engines running. In case you hadn’t noticed, practically all the single men in this dog and pony show are after us.”

  “That’s right,” Rosy said. “And some of the not-so-single ones too.” The twins giggled.

  Lilly loved them for trying to make her feel better, but it didn’t work. “I only want one.”

  Ruby grabbed another tissue.
“Aww, don’t cry, sweetie. He’ll come around.”

  When the twins were done putting on the makeup, Lilly thought she looked like a clown. But she didn’t have the heart to tell them that. Besides, she didn’t care. Maybe the audience would think she looked like a clown too, and her career in the girlie show would be over before it began.

  Now, her mind raced as she sat in front of the mirror, trying to figure out how she could sabotage her act without getting caught. Nothing came to her. She was supposed be over in the cooch show tent already, waiting in the wings. She got up and pulled back the dressing tent door to peer out. Maybe she could make a run for it. But one of Mr. Barlow’s strongmen kept guard outside, protecting the girls and watching for rubes trying to sneak a free peek beneath the canvas walls.

  Across the narrow passageway, the cooch show tent glowed red, and Ruby’s and Rosy’s silhouettes danced and wiggled across the stage. Snare drums and a trumpet played sexy music, and men hooped and hollered for the twins to take it all off. The longer the music went on, the rowdier the men got.

  “You ready?” the strongman said to Lilly.

  She steeled herself and stepped out of the changing tent, her limbs trembling. The strongman led her over to the back of the cooch show tent and pushed aside the entry flap. She swallowed the acid in her throat, went inside, and followed a short, dim corridor to the wings of the stage, where three overturned crates, two with cushions and one topped with ashtrays, glasses, and bottles of liquor, sat against the back wall. Watching from behind the curtains, her face grew hot as the twins shimmied across the pockmarked platform in G-strings and lace brassieres, a string of red lights illuminating their rouged faces. Like everything else they did, they moved and danced in perfect unison. Then they stopped and leaned forward, shaking their shoulders and covering their breasts with their hands. The men hollered and groaned.

  “Show us what you got!” a man yelled.