by Sharon Ihle
Rayna let out a yelp and jumped backwards.
Gant clamped his hands over his ears.
From above them, Mollie’s excited voice rained down.
“The circus is coming. The circus is coming!” She laughed and clapped her hands. “Can y’all hear it down there?”
Grimacing, Gant hollered back, “We hear it just fine, Mollie. So does the entire South.”
“That’s good,” she shouted. “The fellow who sold it to us promised it could be heard for five miles in any direction. That ought to bring the customers in.”
“You’re not going to get even one customer if Toby can’t learn to play a real tune on that thing. My eardrums are about to burst.”
Mollie laughed. “That fellow also said that if you didn’t have to put cotton in your ears, it wasn’t a good calliope. I’ll see if I can’t get Toby to tone it down a bit.”
After she’d been gone a minute, the instrument finally played something Gant could recognize.
“Is that a real song?” Rayna asked, head cocked.
“It’s called The Old Gray Mare Ain’t What She Used To Be, a song Gus wrote during the war after his horse ate some green corn and got sick.”
After listening to a few more bars, she said, “It’s a nice, lively tune.”
“It’s much more than that,” Gant explained. “I don’t know if it’s true of all circus folk, but the Bailey’s put a lot of stock in superstition. Mollie thinks beginning each circus with that tune will bring them good fortune. That and her lucky brooch.”
Tapping her foot along with the music, Rayna said, “Every circus I’ve ever been with has been pretty superstitious, too. Me, I was born that way, omens and curses, anyway.”
As if cued by her words, Hans Jahner rounded the corner just then and headed toward them.
“Bad omens, in particular,” she added as he approached.
“Good morning, you two,” Hans said, bowing toward each of them. “Are you feeling better Rayna?”
Annoyed by the mere sight of a man who’d had his respect not two days ago, Gant ignored him and turned to Rayna. “Were you sick last night?”
“Not really,” she said with a shrug. “I probably had just a little trouble getting used to the movement of the ship.”
“Before it even left the dock?”
Hans stepped between the two, cutting off her reply.
“I’m sure it was nothing,” he said. “It was indelicate for me to even mention it. Shall we go, Rayna? Maria is already working on za coach and there is much for you to do if we are to fit your act into za schedule.”
Rayna glanced at Gant, a sort of apology reflected in her eyes. “I’m afraid Hans is right. I’ve got to get busy on my act. Thanks for the lesson in lucky omens.”
Because he couldn’t argue the point, and by now, didn’t even want to, Gant just gave her a nod and watched as the handsome German escorted her to the showroom.
Just before they stepped into the dim arena, Rayna pulled away from Hans. “Give me five minutes, will you? Mollie was talking about using my mule and me in a new skit about Cleopatra. I think I have some things in my room that might help to give us both an Egyptian look. I’ll be right back.”
Hans, who never liked any kind of change in his plans, grumbled, but he said, “Oh, very well. Do hurry.”
Rayna was already halfway up the first flight of stairs before he’d finished the sentence. When she arrived at her cabin, she rifled through the dresser she shared with Maria until she found the pouch containing the gold coins usually braided in her hair. A long, shimmery scarf woven with golden threads caught her eye, and she grabbed that as well. Then, clutching the items in her hands, she hurried out of the cabin.
She had no more than rounded the blind corner at the landing on the main deck, when Rayna collided full on with Gant, who was heading up top. The pouch and scarf fell from her hands, and Rayna pitched forward against Gant’s chest.
The pouch burst open on impact against the oak deck, scatting its contents in a noisy clatter. Aided by the breeze, the scarf fluttered across the deck like a fleeing river otter. A small gust of that breeze gave it wing, and the strip of silk rose up and over the low railing of the ship.
Taken by surprise, Gant hauled Rayna up by her shoulders. “Are you all right? I hit you hard enough to knock you into next week.”
Although it had been a tremendous blow, Rayna said, “I’m fine. I should have paid more attention to where I was going.”
Glancing over the side of the ship, she caught a glimpse of the length of silk as it skimmed the slick waters, graceful and birdlike. Then it sank from view.
She sighed heavily, remembering how much it had cost. “There goes my favorite scarf.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t a thing I can do about that. Let me help you with your coins.”
“Thanks, but I can get them myself.”
As she started to lower herself to the desk, Rayna noticed that Gant wasn’t so much listening to her as staring at the deck. His eyes were narrow, intense, and his expression, thunderous.
Unable to understand the source of his irritation, Rayna followed Gant’s gaze. When she spotted the item that upset him so, she nearly heaved up her breakfast.
There, smiling up at her through the pile of cheap gold coins, was the image of Dan Rice. It was painted on Mollie’s lucky pink brooch.
Five
Gant plucked the brooch off the deck and slowly stood up. With reluctance, he met Rayna’s gaze. Or tried to, anyway. Her incredible green eyes no longer teased or lured, but hid from his scrutiny. Agate-hard, her gaze darted between him and the ship’s railing, frantically searching for an avenue of escape. He glanced down to her roseate mouth, to the very lips he’d been longing to kiss only moments ago, and found them white with fear.
He should have trusted his first instincts. He’d known then, and damn well should have known now, that Rayna was no goddess. She was nothing but a beautiful, devious thief of the lowest caliber. Gant cursed himself for not working harder to convince Mollie that hiring the Gypsies could only lead to trouble.
“I know how this must look,” Rayna said, her voice quiet and tentative. “I think I can explain.”
Gant curled his lip as he said, “I’m sure you can, and I have a good idea what that explanation might be. You stole Mollie’s brooch because you’re a miserable, thieving Gypsy.”
“No, please listen to me.” Rayna was practically begging. “I, ah, found the brooch.”
“I think we both know where you found it. On Mollie’s dressing table.”
“No, you’re wrong.” Now she was tugging at the lace edging her apron. “I was just on my way to the dressing room to return it to Mollie’s table. Honest.”
“Honest?” Gant cocked a cynical eyebrow. “I doubt you know the meaning of the word.” She flinched, but he went on. “If you’re so damned honest, why didn’t you tell Mollie you had her brooch when she asked about it a while ago?”
“Because...” Rayna’s breath was coming in shallow gulps, making her feel dizzy. She inhaled deeply, and then made up the story as she went along. “I hadn’t seen the brooch then. I went up to my cabin to get a few things for the new show, and when I came back out, there it was. On the stairs.”
Part of Gant wanted to believe her, but the truth was written all over her beautiful face. She was not only a thief, but a liar as well. And she was a pretty bad liar at that.
“Sorry,” he said, folding the brooch inside his hand. “I’m not buying your story. I doubt that Mollie will either.”
“Oh, but it’s the truth,” she said, still pleading. “I didn’t steal the brooch. You’ve got to believe me.”
Gant looked away, unable to stare into those deviously hypnotic eyes any longer. “You’re telling your little tale to the wrong person. I’m going to return Mollie’s property to her, and then let her make the decision about what to do with you.”
“Please don’t suggest to Mollie that I st
ole the brooch. It will only ruin everything that Maria and I have worked so hard to accomplish. If you won’t do this for me, consider my mother. Please think of her and how she will feel should your suspicions become known.”
Think of her mother. Another of his deficit emotions, Gant thought with a pang. He knew little about the bonds most folks had for their mothers, and even less about a woman’s devotion to her child. The Gantry men were hard on their women, at least Luther Gantry, Senior had been. A Mexican camp follower who ran off for greener pastures shortly after her sons arrived had conceived Gant’s two older brothers, twins who were also named Luther Gantry. The baby of the family, another Luther Gantry referred to as Luke, hadn’t fared much better. He was born of a terrified rancher’s daughter who’d been kidnapped by the family for extortion purposes. She survived until two days after his birth when the very men hired to save her, accidentally killed her. Before that unfortunate woman, Gant’s half-breed mother had served the elder Gantry’s needs.
Gant had only faint memories of the Apache squaw who conceived him and his younger brother, another pair of Luther Gantry’s. He couldn’t even remember the love she may have bestowed on him. On the day of Gant’s fourth birthday, Lou came into the world, trading his existence for their mother’s. Four years was not a lot of time to gather the kind of emotions Rayna might be feeling. And standing two feet away from her now, was not nearly enough room for him to think rationally.
Backing away, he made a decision. “I’m going to return Mollie’ brooch to her. If she wants to know how it fell into your hands, I’m sure she’ll look you up.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“I’m not done yet,” he warned. “If she does want the truth, tell it. It might make the difference in whether you stay or go. Mollie can spot a liar a mile away.”
Rayna nodded, not as contrite as he’d have liked, and said, “I appreciate having you on my side.”
“You do not have me on your side. Remember that the next time some else’s property starts looking good to you. I won’t be leaving decisions concerning you up to Mollie again.”
With that, Gant turned on his heel and started for the staircase.
Rayna let out the breath she’d been holding and continued on her way to the arena. She was trembling all over, partially with anger, mostly with trepidation as she entered the show room and took a deep, steadying breath. The sawdust, she noticed with a grimace, had soured, much like her mood, and the lighting was as dim as her hopes.
Despite this, she put on a bright smile and strolled over toward the ring where the Travis twins were putting the draft horses through their paces. High above them workmen were laughing amongst themselves as they strung the ropes those same twins would use in their aerial act.
Laughter. Gay circus music from Gus’s band as they practiced their tunes. Rayna heard none of it as she spotted the person she sought sitting cross-legged on one of the cane-bottomed chairs at ringside. The thunder of her own heart obliterating all other sounds, Rayna started toward her mother.
Maria, watching her approach, called out, “Recognize that tune? Can you feel the excitement building?”
Rayna sank onto the chair beside her. Glancing at the tiny woman, she quietly said, “I’m afraid I don’t have your enthusiasm yet. Did you and Hans get everything worked out for the grand entrance?”
Maria beamed. “Yes, we did. Sweetpea has no trouble dragging me and the coach through the sawdust. It is not so deep as I feared. Still, for parading around the towns we visit, we will have to let him ride with us on the seat of the circus wagon.”
“That’s nice.”
Alerted to Rayna’s mood, Maria leaned in close. “What is it, daughter? You are sad, no?”
“Yes, Daia, I am sad. Something has happened.”
Maria sucked in her breath. “Something evil?”
“Perhaps.” Rayna glanced down at her lap, and then carefully lifted the pouch from the folds of her skirt. “I stopped by our cabin on the way down here.”
Maria went pale and made an awkward lunge for the pouch. “Did you want me to braid your hair? I have time.”
“No,” Rayna said gently, disheartened by the fear in her mother’s eyes. “I had planned to use some of the coins as a kind of headdress for Pierre, but on the way here, I dropped the pouch and everything fell out. Do you know what I found mixed in with the coins?”
Maria fell back against her chair. She squeezed her eyes shut as if to trap the sudden wealth of moisture inside, but a single teardrop rolled down her cheek anyway.
“Oh, Daia.” Rayna’s voice was low and supportive. “Why? I thought you were happy here. I thought for sure that this time things would be different. What happened?”
Maria’s tears finally burst through her lids. “I don’t know,” she said through a sob. “I just don’t know.”
Rayna slid her arm across Maria’s shoulders, and then glanced around to make certain they weren’t being observed. Everyone, including Hans who was in the center ring with the twins, was too busy working on final preparations to notice.
Patting her mother’s back, Rayna whispered, “It might be better if we talk about this later. I only mentioned it now in case Mollie comes downstairs and asks me where I found her brooch. I didn’t want you to be surprised if that should happen.”
Maria gulped and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “She knows already?”
“Gant knows. He was talking to me when the pouch hit the deck. He’s upstairs returning Mollie’s brooch to her now.”
“What did you tell him?” Maria twisted her hands together. “How could you explain such a thing?”
With a shrug, Rayna said, “I told him I found Mollie’s brooch on the stairs this morning, and he---“ She hesitated a long moment, deciding it would be better not to relay Gant’s reaction. “That’s about it.”
Maria hung her head. “He didn’t believe you, did he?”
“No, not exactly.”
“He thinks you stole the brooch, does he not?”
Rayna sighed. “Yes, he does.”
“I’ve ruined everything for you again,” Maria said, her voice a loud wail. “And now we’ll be fired. You might even wind up in jail again. What have I done?”
At these final words, Maria buried her face in her pudgy little hands, threw herself forward, and collapsed against her own knees.
“Daia,” Rayna whispered, aware that eyes were finally upon them. “Be quiet. There is no reason to think that Mollie has condemned either of us yet. She has a good and generous heart. Maybe she believes that I found her property on the stairs, and the entire incident will be forgotten.”
“Maybe so,” Maria said, lifting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of Rayna. “But what of the next? How will you explain my crimes away the next time the sickness comes over me?”
“It won’t happen again,” Rayna declared, praying that it was so. “You were just nervous about your new surroundings when you did what you did. It seems to happen only when you are worried or upset. You will be happy from now on. This will not happen again. It can’t.”
Maria looked away and buried her face in her hands as another wave of sobs swamped her.
Rayna wanted desperately to console her mother, to let her know that everything would be all right, but something held her back. Although she knew Maria probably hadn’t set out to steal the brooch, it was almost impossible to believe that she hadn’t at least realized what she was doing during the actual theft--and after. How could she comfort Maria further without condoning her behavior?
Aware suddenly that someone was approaching, Rayna glanced up to see that Hans was on his way to the seating area.
“What is za problem here?” he asked as he drew near.
“Nothing,” Rayna quickly said, again making up the story as she went along. “Maria twisted her knee, but she’ll be all right soon.”
“We shall see.” Hans hunkered down in front of the chair, and then pushed the sti
ll-sobbing Maria back into a sitting position. “Let me look at it. I do za doctoring around here.”
Maria yelped as Hans manipulated her leg, but her cries were no act for his benefit. He actually was hurting her, twisting her misshapen legs into angles they couldn’t possibly manage on their own. She bit her lip and allowed the pain, accepting it as a sort of punishment for her crimes against her daughter.