“But it doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m going to the authorities,” he began, causing an automatic shaking of her head. “But we’ll have to keep this quiet until we know more. Can you do that?”
Relief was medicating in the moment.
They had no answers. And she must have been on edge for weeks—months, even. Why? Because of Bella? Because Rose wasn’t certain she could trust him?
Colin exhaled. It felt like a sword to the chest.
Rose nodded. Weakly. He knew she’d given every effort to accept his promise. Then, finally, when the white-knuckled grip she’d kept on his hand proved ineffective, she fell against his shoulder, burying her face against his collar.
Colin cupped a hand to the nape of her neck, holding her still. Letting the release of tears come.
“Rose? Do you want to leave? Tell me the truth.”
“No.” The answer reinforced by a firm shake of her head against his neck.
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear. So promise me one thing?”
“If I can,” she answered, her lips moving against the linen of his shirt.
“I can’t do what I need to if I’m worried about you. Until this is sorted out, I need you to go back to the ring stock tent with Owen and wait for me there after your performances. I’ll walk you back to your tent every night. And I’ll make sure we have trusted eyes on you at all times. If I can’t be there, then Jerry or Owen will. I’ll even conscript Ward into security detail if I have to, though I worry he’d give up his post if it ran over into mealtime.”
She gave a faint smile. “It’s not necessary, Colin. You have enough to do without watching over me.”
“It is necessary, Rose.” He leaned back to look in her eyes. “I need to know you’re safe. And I need your promise that you’ll do this for me. If anything happens on the lot, you’ll go back to that tent and wait for me.”
“If you really want me to.”
“I need you to,” he countered, the words soft. Entreating her to listen.
“Then yes. I will.”
It was the only promise Rose had made to him that Colin feared she couldn’t keep.
The threats were real.
And Colin had to consider who, of the circus family all around, was behind them. He now knew that if someone wanted Rose out of the show, they’d stop at nothing to accomplish that goal.
“Come on then. Let’s get you to the train.”
He helped her stand, bracing her elbow until she nodded that she was okay.
“I don’t want Bella punished for this.”
“Bella?” Rose’s statement could have knocked him over with the brush of a feather. “What about Bella?”
The first thought in his mind was, Why ever not? Followed closely by every scenario in which he prayed it wasn’t Bella Rossi’s doing. He didn’t want to imagine a star in their show could be so calculating. So callous and cruel as to strike a woman from behind.
“What are you saying, Rose? That you know it’s her?”
“Not for sure. But I can’t see it any other way. The first note I received, Colin . . .” Rose stared back, regret illuminating her eyes. “It was written in Italian.”
CHAPTER 28
1928
PORT HURON, MICHIGAN
Storm clouds rolled in across the vast fields in which they’d put up their tent city.
The sky was more than menacing, with a straight line of purple-gray that spanned the city’s horizon and added a wide shadow behind the tips of the tall trees. Coupled with the kick-up of cool wind off Lake Huron and speckles of raindrops that sent intermittent pricks against Rosamund’s skin, it created a sinister backdrop for the impending evening performance.
They were minutes away from show time.
Rosamund and Owen stood in the backyard area behind the tent, which was reserved for performers in the show, taking in the scene from the alley hidden away from the public eye.
The entire backyard area seemed shrouded in a blanket of darkness that had fallen without warning. The sun wasn’t set to go down for another couple of hours, yet it was far too dark already to signal anything but a deluge headed right for them.
“I don’t like the looks of it,” Owen said, reading Rosamund’s thoughts.
The horses, too, seemed uneasy. They picked up their hooves, jostling about as if they were taking turns stomping at ants on the ground.
“Shhh. Shhh,” she soothed, taking Ingénue by the bit. “Calm down, lady.”
“I think we should prepare for this,” Owen whispered, his eyes scanning first the line of ominous clouds, then the span of the tent city before them.
“You’re thinking of the people.”
He nodded. “The animals too. Crowds can be directed. But big cats and elephants can be tricky to manage on the best of days. Even trickier when storms roll in. I’d rather we not take any chances with them.”
“I can already tell with the horses,” Rosamund muttered, adjusting a surer grip on Ingénue’s bit. “They’re far too anxious. I wonder if we should call it off tonight.”
“A little late to cancel, seeing as the show’s already begun. But it’d be Colin’s call to shut things down now. You seen him?”
Rosamund scanned the bustling back lot, looking for their boss’s mop of dark hair standing out against the crowd.
“No. Last I saw him was more than an hour ago. He was pulled away to deal with something on the Midway. An altercation with some boys from town, so he shoved off to handle it. Said he’d stop in to check on us after the performance.”
“We ought to find him. And soon.”
Owen’s forehead revealed a slight crease at the brow, and hard lines chiseled the skin around his stern mouth.
“You don’t think we have that long.”
He shifted his glance her way, shaking his head. “We’ve seen storms on the lot before, but never like this. That sky is black as death.”
Rosamund swallowed hard, not liking his choice of words. “Okay. What should we do?”
“Batten down the hatches, I’d say.”
It looked like they already were.
All around her, the back lot bustled.
Rosamund saw Jerry trot by with a couple of men in tow. They’d obviously found the machinist to work out some problem with the circus diner concession wagon nearby, its goods quickly being caught up in the mounting gusts of wind. The men battled together, working to pull down the raised panels on the back while the concessioner tried to keep his stacks of popcorn bags from flying away.
Across the yard she could see Minnie’s costume wagon and changing tents, the costume mistress gathering up brightly colored taffeta gowns, plumed hats, and sequined leotards while stealing glances up at the line of thick clouds. Clowns, too, were gathering their props and pulling down the rolled sides of their tents, should the sky open up while they were waiting for their part in the evening performance. A train of elephants ambled by, their trainers casting nervous glances at the storm clouds overhead. The lumbering beasts didn’t look as surefooted as usual, and that was always cause for concern.
Rosamund couldn’t see the lines at the main entrance from where they stood, as it was on the other side of the Big Top. She could, however, hear the generous roar of the crowd inside the tent. If they hadn’t sold out that day, they’d come very close to it.
“How many do we have tonight?”
Owen clicked his tongue against his teeth with a tsk tsk sound, then said, “By all accounts, we’re full up.”
The Big Top could accommodate up to fifteen thousand people.
God help us . . .
She shook her head. How could they find shelter for that many?
“Colin needs to know about this.”
“He already does, Rosamund. All he has to do is look up at the sky. That man is two steps ahead of everything concerning this show. But I’d feel better if we were certain as to what he wants done.” Owen ran his hands over the nose of the horse nearest him. “We have protocol for this, but I’m not at liberty to set the wheels into motion without his say-so.”
“So what do we do?”
“Get these animals under cover. Now.”
“What do you say we get the horses in the back entrance of the Big Top? There’s enough room. Once the flyers go into the last part of their set, we can march into the ring a little early. That way, we’ll free up room for the elephants behind us, and no one will have to be left in a downpour. They’ll still hear the storm, but at least they won’t have to see what’s happening. That would buy us some time, wouldn’t it?”
“Good idea. I’d feel better knowing the elephants weren’t watching the sky.”
Rosamund nodded and pulled the horses toward the Big Top, just as thunder rolled in a gentle rumble overhead.
“I wish we weren’t either.”
THE BIG TOP WAS JUST AS LIVELY AS EVER, WITH ROARING LAUGHTER as the clowns ran through their act.
Rosamund sat on Ingénue’s back, scanning the crowd. She looked from the span of people to the openings in the tent in the back and the darkening sky behind them. It had begun to rain by then, a steady crying down of water that charged the atmosphere with growing anxiety. She felt a prickle in the hair on the back of her neck, as if a blast of cool air had just swept in to tease it.
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to keep Ingénue as calm as possible.
A sharp crack of lightning shook the canvas vault overhead, making the crowd gasp in unison. It seemed they’d been oblivious to the onslaught of rain and wind up to that moment. But any oblivion shattered after that. The air began to sizzle with nervous energy as the sky sent another crack of lightning to earth. And then another, the last one stirring the horses enough that several of them reared back.
Rosamund managed to calm them down, hushing them with soothing words and the steadiest tone she could manage.
The band still played, though the roar of wind outside battled for its own attention. It agitated the crowd enough that some patrons stood. Even edged toward the exits. And the band suddenly stopped, all of the instruments shrieking to an off-key halt.
Alarm bells sounded in Rosamund’s head the moment she heard the new tune.
Every performer knew that the playing of “Stars and Stripes Forever” indicated a matter of urgency under the Big Top; it meant something was terribly wrong and was a cue to put everyone on full-scale alert.
She looked from her left to her right, scanning the walls of canvas and the growing agitation in the crowd.
There was no way they could perform now and do it safely. Not when the storm was causing such a stir. Parents were tugging frightened children along, clogging the exits as the band continued to play.
Rosamund glanced up ahead, struggling to see where Owen stood, looking for direction.
He’d raised his hand out in front of their troop.
She caught his gaze but Owen shook his head, telling her to hold fast.
In the many months she’d traveled with the circus, Rosamund’s strength and intuition had grown. From unwelcoming crowds in some towns, to sick animals and the unfortunate accidents that could plague a traveling circus, the unexpected had become quite commonplace. There were injured men. Illness. The responsibility to care for animals and watch for abuse, even in the actions of friends who worked around you.
And then there was the coil of nervousness in Rosamund’s midsection, ever-present as she remembered the threats that had been aimed directly at her. Any strength she’d built up seemed fleeting now as the sky bled ferocious tears.
The wind tore at the tent like a child throwing a toy. At that moment the interior lights failed. In an instant the Big Top became a prison for frightened performers, with the fierce trumpeting of alarmed elephants and the horrifying shouts of guests trying to flee for their lives through a pitch-black death trap.
CHAPTER 29
Blood covered Rosamund’s hands.
It was sticky and wet, causing her fingers to slip as she kept fabric torn from her costume in a tight compression on the girl’s thigh.
“You’re going to be all right,” she cooed, brushing strands of mud-caked hair back from the little girl’s brow.
Rosamund tore her eyes away, looking up and down the back lot alley.
It was still dark, the skies echoing gray overhead. It was no longer the line of deep purple and black they’d seen before the storm rolled in, and she took that as a good sign.
Performers had scattered. Guests ran past the tents anchored at the far end of the alley. All were soaked and most were terrified, though some had the presence of mind to stop and loot from damaged tents.
Rosamund cried out, calling to them. Desperate for help.
“Rosamund?”
She looked up, relieved to find Jerry crouched at her side. He turned his head down, keeping it out of the wind, and looked her over.
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not me. It’s her.”
He pulled the blood-soaked fabric back, inspecting the wound.
“She’s bleeding and . . . not crying anymore . . .”
Jerry unbuckled then tore off his belt. “Help me lift her,” he instructed, pushing his glasses back on his nose with his index finger.
Rosamund nodded, slipping her hands under the girl’s leg as he eased the thick strap of leather under it. He pulled hard, seeing that the leather was taut.
“I’ve got her,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “If you find her parents, say I’ve taken her to the hospital tent.”
She knelt in the mud, the wind spattering her cheeks with rain, and watched as Jerry ran off with the child bundled up in his arms.
Dazed, she looked around. Canvas and steel anchors of tents had been torn to bits like they were made of rice paper and string. They marred the landscape like casualties of war. And the animals—who knew where they all were—made horrific, guttural moans and cries in the distance, followed by human shrieks and cracks of thunder.
Please, God. Don’t let the lions be loose. She got to her feet, limbs shaking. If the big cats smelled blood . . .
Leaves flew past, mixed with circus programs and rain-soaked popcorn bags, littering the air like butterflies tossed in the wind.
“Rose!”
She turned, hands shaking, the rain spreading the blood from her hands to stain the front of her costume in crimson.
Colin emerged from the chaos, rushing through a line of people like a warrior tearing through battle. He was without his vest or hat, his shirt covered in mud and clinging to his skin, taking in heaving breaths with a rise and fall as though he’d been running for miles. His arms were braced at his sides, his hands balled up in tight fists as if he’d been ready to fight the storm with his bare hands.
He locked eyes on her, and immediately the tension eased from his stance.
Rosamund ran to meet him at the entrance of the ring stock tent as water dripped from the overhang and gathered in puddles between them.
“You’re hurt?” he said. Words clipped. Eyes begging for an answer.
She shook her head. “No. There was a girl. She was injured and . . .” She ran her hands down the front of her costume on instinct, as if she could simply brush the blood away. “I’m okay. Come in out of the rain. You’re soaked to the skin.”
Colin obeyed, moving past her as a roar of thunder clapped behind them. He stepped into the tent with her, easing into the opening by the horses.
“Lightning struck just outside the Big Top, and Nora went mad. Tore through the side of the tent.” He shook his head. “She’s . . . she’s dead.”
Rosamund’s hand flew up to her mouth. “No . . .”
Not the kind-eyed mother elephant that she’d first met on the lot.
“The police followed her as she rampaged into town. I tried to get there in time. They put her down, Rose. Right there in the middle of the street.” He slapped his hand on his leg. “What a waste. She must have been terrified—she couldn’t have known what was happening.”
Rosamund’s heart squeezed in her chest as she watched the anguish on his face. Behind them, the rain was now coming down in sheets.
“And then I came back to this—disaster everywhere. Some are badly injured.”
“God in heaven . . .,” she whispered. “How could this happen?”
“It just . . . happens, Rose. I’ve seen every kind of accident you can imagine. This is the life. Don’t you remember me telling you that?” There was frustration, even anger, in his voice.
“Of course I remember!”
“Do you also remember the deal we made after you were attacked? If anything happened on the lot, you’d bring the horses back and wait for me here? I came back and found this tent empty, Rose! All the while, we’ve got a tornado blowing through the Big Top and wild animals running loose, and I’m trying to track down a lost bareback rider like a needle in a haystack. Because she’s too willful to do anything I ask of her.”
“Owen and I—we did come back. We had to get the horses to safety. And I did wait here at first, but there were frightened people everywhere, running all over each other. And when the little girl fell and cut her leg, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”
“I looked for you in every corner of this tent, and in the Big Top. I crawled through piles of overturned chairs and sawdust on my hands and knees in the dark, looking for you. Scared I’d find you with another knock on the head, or worse this time.”
The Ringmaster's Wife Page 26