The Life She Was Given

by Ellen Marie Wiseman

  CHAPTER 29

  LILLY

  At half past midnight the day after Pepper killed Merrick, Lilly and Cole crept out of their sleeper car, suitcases in hand, Phoebe sound asleep in a cloth sling against Cole’s chest, unaware her parents were leading her into an uncertain future. The night was still and humid, and a half-moon cast a bluish glow over the train and ground and trees, emitting just enough light for them to see where they were going. Cole had a lantern in his backpack but didn’t dare use it until they were far enough away not to be caught.

  Earlier, they had talked for hours about what saving Pepper would mean for the three of them and decided that, despite the risks of starting over with nothing but their clothes and a little money, they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they stood by and did nothing. Cole hoped they’d find a new circus willing to take them in, along with a free, albeit “rogue,” bull. Because where else would an albino, a lifelong circus performer, and an elephant have any sort of chance at starting over? If that plan didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what they would do. But Lilly insisted they try.

  After the decision was made, they asked Hank over to their car to say good-bye. He agreed they had to save Pepper and wanted to go with them, but Cole refused in case they got caught. Hank understood and made them promise to find a way to let him know where they landed, and if they were safe. He took Phoebe in his lap and kissed her cheeks until she got tired and wanted her mother. Lilly hugged him and Cole promised they’d see each other again, and if a spot for an experienced bull man opened up in their next digs, he’d send word. By the time Hank left, they were all in tears.

  Now, Lilly followed Cole along the train, fear and adrenaline roaring through her veins, a fine sheen of nervous sweat on her forehead. She felt like she was about to jump out of her skin. If they got caught or escaped, who knew what would happen. When they reached the elephant car, Cole stopped, shoulders hunched, and held up a hand. Lilly came to a halt behind him and waited while he slowly slid open the stock car door, cringing with every metal rasp and scrape. When it was finally open all the way, Cole acted as a lookout and she climbed inside, crept across the aisle, and crouched beside Pepper, praying she’d be able to get the brokenhearted, injured bull up and out of the car without too much noise. Pepper lay on her side in the straw, streaks of dried tears on her wrinkled face. Lilly ran a gentle hand down her giant ear and Pepper opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her long trunk unfurled like a fern leaf and reached for Lilly’s arm.

  “Up,” Lilly whispered. “Get up, girl.”

  Pepper groaned and struggled to her feet. Flossie and Petunia craned their necks to see what was going on, snuffling and snorting when they saw Lilly. She went over and rubbed their trunks, whispering that they should go back to sleep. The elephants sighed, low and rumbling, and put their trunks back down. Lilly unlocked the chain around Pepper’s leg, wrapped it around Pepper’s ankle, and secured it in place. Then she started toward the door, hoping the great beast would be willing and able to get out of the car without using the ramp. Otherwise, it would take too long and make too much noise. Pepper followed her out of the stall and Lilly climbed out of the stock car.

  In the open doorway, Pepper hesitated, no doubt confused and in pain. Lilly quietly begged her to come down, rubbing her plate-sized feet and telling her it would be okay. Pepper swayed back and forth, unsure. Cole watched with a worried face, and Lilly felt panic rising in her chest. If they had to use the ramp, they’d get caught for sure. Then, at last, Pepper stepped out of the car, her great gray heft shuddering when her front foot hit the ground. She grumbled deep in her throat, but kept coming, her rear end high in the air, her front feet on the ground. For a heart-stopping second, Lilly thought she might fall out of the door. If she got hurt, they’d be done for. Then, finally, Pepper managed to pull one of her back legs out and bring the other one down too, and Lilly could breathe again.

  Once Pepper was free of the car and standing on all fours, Cole slowly slid the door shut and they started walking toward the end of the train. Pepper lumbered behind Lilly, stopping when she stopped, slowing when she slowed. Together, they took a wide berth around Mr. Barlow’s car and the caboose, then followed the tracks away from The Barlow Brothers’ Circus. The only things Lilly could hear were the blood rushing through her veins and the anxious thud of her heart. She turned every once in a while to make sure Pepper was still behind them. In the weak moonlight, the bull’s silhouette swayed side to side, the dark wings of her ears slowly fanning forward and back, her mighty legs plodding along the tracks like the limbs of a prehistoric creature.

  When Lilly felt sure they had escaped undiscovered, she unclenched her jaw and her heartbeat slowed. She hooked her arm through Cole’s and leaned against his shoulder as they walked along the railroad ties, nearly limp with relief. Phoebe was still sound asleep in the sling, her little blond head bobbing against Cole’s chest in time with his strides. Neither Lilly nor Cole spoke, each lost in their own thoughts and fears about the future. The only thing they knew for sure was they were headed west, toward a town named Waverly, where rumor had it The Sparks World Circus was being cannibalized by Ringling. If the three of them didn’t get picked up by Ringling, at least they’d have better luck finding a new circus with the remnants of Sparks World than they would on their own. Lilly had already imagined a new act with Pepper, one that included Cole and Phoebe, and now she rehearsed it in her mind to calm her nerves.

  Then she saw the silhouette of someone on the tracks, and she came to a halt. Cole took another step, then stopped too. The person was quite large, with an unusually big head and broad shoulders, and he was coming toward them.

  It was Viktor.

  Cole pulled Lilly off the tracks toward a line of trees.

  “Come,” Lilly said to Pepper as loud as she dared. Pepper followed, crashing through the dry brush like a tank.

  “Stop right there!” Viktor shouted. “That damn bull isn’t getting off that easy!” He turned on a flashlight and shined it in their direction. Lilly and Cole froze and she grabbed his arm, her blood running cold. Viktor had a gun.

  CHAPTER 30

  JULIA

  The morning after finding the hidden staircase up to the attic, Julia pulled herself out of bed and looked out the window. To her surprise, the sun was out and Claude had already piled the broken branches and sticks from the ice storm in the side yard. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was already nine-thirty. How in the world had she slept so long? Then the memory of finding the attic bedroom hit her and she sat down hard on her bed. Her mind felt like she had lived a thousand years and, for some reason, her body ached like it too. Either that, or she was coming down with something. No, that wasn’t it. After learning she had a sister, finding the hidden bedroom, and speculating nonstop about what her parents had done, it was no wonder she wanted to sleep. It was too much to digest all at once, and she wanted it to go away. And yet, she had to know the truth. There was no other choice.

  She got dressed, made her way down to the kitchen, and stood at the sink, staring out the window. How in the world she was going to fit all the pieces together? Why was her sister locked in the attic? And for how long? What happened to her? Did her parents have something to do with her death? Where was she buried? Was there a birth certificate? A death certificate? Was it possible the albino woman, Lilly, had something to do with this, or was she a separate issue altogether? Could the little girl have been Lilly’s child, an illegitimate baby shamefully hidden away when Mother found out about the affair?

  There were probably more clues in the attic, but it would take months to go through everything, and Julia couldn’t wait that long. Besides, she wouldn’t know where to start. Her parents wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know they were hiding a child in the attic, so there probably wasn’t anyone to question. But someone, somewhere, had to know something. Then it hit her. There was one person who had been here through everything.

  Claud
e.

  She put on boots and a jacket, went out the back door, and marched over to the barn. Claude was at the desk in the office doing paperwork. He glanced up when she came in.

  “Morning,” he said, then looked down at his work again.

  “Morning,” she said. She waited on the other side of the desk, her hands in her jacket pockets to keep them from shaking. She wasn’t sure if she was worried he’d tell her the truth, or worried he’d refuse to talk again.

  “I see you cleaned up the yard,” she said.

  He kept his eyes on the papers. “Almost,” he said. “There’s still a few branches lying around, but most of it’s ready to be burned.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Suit yourself.” He penciled numbers into a ledger, concentrating.

  She bit her lip, unsure how to begin. If he didn’t help her, she wouldn’t know what to do next. “I know you’re busy,” she said. “But can you come over to the house for a minute?”

  “What for?”

  “I need you to see something.”

  He turned the ledger page and wrote down more numbers. “What is it? I’ve got to finish these accounts.”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “That’s why I need you to take a look.”

  He finally looked up at her, his forehead furrowed. “Why don’t you ask Fletcher? He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  She shook her head. “Fletcher can’t help me with this. And I don’t have anyone else to ask. I found something in the house, something horrible and shocking . . . and . . . and if I don’t figure out what my parents . . .” Her voice caught in her throat and she pressed her fingers against her lips for a moment, trying to stop the sudden flow of tears. When she could speak again, she said, “I just want to know the truth.”

  He leaned back in his chair and studied her face, as if sizing her up or judging her motives. Anger hardened his features, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away. If he read the determination in her eyes, so be it. She needed him to tell her what he knew.

  After what seemed like forever, he sat forward, took off his cap, and scrubbed a hand over his graying hair. He set the cap on the desk and clasped his hands together against his mouth, thinking. Then he looked her in the eye. She thought he was going to refuse to help again, but his brow relaxed and his unyielding eyes softened. Defiance turned into something that looked like sadness, or maybe it was regret.

  “You found a way into the attic,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  Her legs went watery. “Mm-hm,” she managed.

  “And the hidden bedroom.”

  She nodded, pulled a stool away from the wall, and sat down before she fell. “What do you know about it?”

  He scratched the back of his neck and frowned, hesitant to go on. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight, as if the words were hard to say. “Your parents had another child.”

  She nodded again.

  “She wasn’t . . . she wasn’t . . . normal.”

  Julia swallowed. “What do you mean? Was she deformed or something?”

  He stood and made his way around the desk, then headed toward the door. She thought he was going to leave and she got to her feet, ready to beg him to stay. But he stopped and stared out the window next to the door. She sat back down, studying his profile. He looked troubled.

  “It’s what people did back then,” he said. His voice sounded different, sad almost. Or maybe it was weary. “I suppose it was better than being put in an institution somewhere.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe if she had gotten help—”

  “It wasn’t my business.”

  She wanted to ask why a child being locked in an attic wasn’t his business, but refrained herself. If she made him mad, he might clam up again. “What was wrong with her?”

  “I’m not sure. Some sort of skin condition, I think, but your father said she had other problems.”

  Julia stiffened. Skin condition? What kind of skin condition? Albinism? Her mind reeled. Was it possible Lilly was her sister, not her father’s mistress? Is that why her father went to the circus all the time? But if her sister was locked in the attic, how and when did she get out? How did she end up joining the circus? It didn’t seem possible.

  “Did you ever see her?”

  Claude pressed his lips together and shook his head. He was lying again. She could tell.

  “Was she an albino?” she said.

  “I don’t know. Your father didn’t say much about her. He and Mrs. Blackwood were—”

  “Ashamed?”

  He turned to look at her. “I was going to say private. Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood were very private people. And I can’t be sure, but their decision might have had something to do with Mrs. Blackwood’s religious beliefs.”

  “In what way?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just the feeling I got.”

  “What was her name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Was it Lilly?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What happened to her?”

  He shrugged again and went back to his desk.

  “Is she dead?” Julia pressed.

  He sat down and shuffled through the papers. “Listen, that’s all I know. Like I said, your father didn’t talk about her much. I think it was too hard for him.” He put his cap back on and picked up a pencil, his face guarded again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

  Julia dug her fingernails into her palms, struggling to stay calm. He wasn’t telling her everything, and she had no idea why. They were talking about her house, her parents, her sister. She had a right to know what happened. Frustration and anger built up like steam inside her head. She got up, snatched the papers from his desk, and held them out of his reach.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said. “If my parents didn’t want anyone to know about my sister, why would my father tell you she was up in the attic? He must have trusted you. With all of it.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. It was a long time ago. Maybe he needed to get it off his chest.”

  “Did you go to the police? Did you try to get her out of there?” He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “By the time your father told me, it was . . .” He shifted in his chair.

  “It was what?”

  “It was too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  He clenched his jaw, his temples working in and out. “You’re asking questions I don’t have the answers to.”

  It was all she could do not to throw the papers at him. “I don’t understand why you’re lying,” she said. “My parents are dead. So who are you protecting?”

  “I’m not protecting anyone.”

  “Did my sister die up there? Did she escape? I need to know what happened!”

  “I told you, I don’t know anything else. I made it my business not to know.”

  She dropped the papers on the desk, sadness and disgust welling up in her eyes. Several of them slid into his lap, but he made no move to retrieve them. She went to door and glared back at him. “Then you’re just as guilty as my parents,” she said, and walked out.

  CHAPTER 31

  LILLY

  “I can’t take this much longer,” Lilly said to Cole. “What is Mr. Barlow going to do to us for stealing Pepper?”

  They were sitting on the sofa, locked inside their sleeper car on the rail lot where Pepper killed Merrick, roustabouts and strongmen guarding the windows and doors. It had been nearly fifteen hours since Viktor forced them back to the train by gunpoint, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the three birds in the big top during the tornado. Three birds, three deaths. Merrick was dead, so who was next? Her and Cole?

  “I don’t know,” Cole said. “If he was going to call the cops and have us arrested, he would have done it by now. Knowing him, he’s coming up with his own punishment.”

  Lilly hugged her daughter to her chest and kissed the top of her h
ead, tears burning her eyes. “If something happens to us, who will take care of Phoebe?”

  Cole put an arm around her. “Try not to worry. I’ll talk to Mr. Barlow. Maybe he’ll let us work without pay for a few years, or I can take the punishment for both of us. Whatever happens, you’re not going to be separated from our little girl, I promise.”

  Lilly closed her eyes and buried her nose into Phoebe’s silky hair. What had they done? Not only had they failed to save Pepper, but they had put their daughter’s future in danger too.

  Just then, the pounding chug of an approaching locomotive thudded outside. A short train passed by the windows of their car, and iron brakes caught and screeched, caught and screeched. Cole got up and pushed aside the curtain to look out. “My God,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “What is it?” Lilly set Phoebe on the sofa and went to the window.

  On the other side of a second of tracks, a crowd of townies had gathered around the train depot. Men, women, and children filled every available spot, perched on top of lone boxcars, sitting inside open car doors, standing on water tower stairs and overturned barrels. The adults jostled one another for prime viewing space while children held balloons and ate popcorn and cotton candy, or played tag in front of the platform. A half-dozen men set up cameras.

  “That bastard got the word out all right,” Cole said. “He must have made an announcement during this afternoon’s show.”

  “Do you think he sold tickets?” Lilly said.

  “No, it’s a publicity stunt.”

  Lilly buried her face in her hands. “Poor Pepper.”

  Cole pulled her to him and they both grew quiet.

  When Lilly could speak around the lump in her throat, she looked up and said, “How do you think he’s going to do it?”

  Cole jerked his chin toward the window to indicate the locomotive that had just pulled in. “With that.”

  Lilly drew away from him and looked out. The locomotive sat on the tracks several hundred feet away, situated halfway between the Barlow Brothers’ train and the depot. Only one railcar sat behind the engine—a derrick car mounted with an industrial crane used for lifting railway carriages on and off the tracks.