Joanne Bischof

by The Lady

  Great, and now he was chuckling.

  Ella closed the door and dressed quickly, careful not to disturb Margaret who was a slow riser. Ella combed her hair and plaited it with hurried fingers. With a whisper of thanks over the water in the pitcher, she rinsed her face and mouth. She scrubbed her cheeks with a towel, plucked a sweater off the back of the door, and slid it over her yellow seersucker dress. Pausing at the mirror gave a moment to check her reflection. Haunted, lonely eyes looked back. “He’s leaving tomorrow,” Ella said softly. “Tomorrow.” She pushed a stray lock of hair into her braid. “You need to make amends with that.”

  Steeling her emotions—her heart—she stepped out and skirted the sofa to peek on Holland.

  Charlie crouched in front of the stove and put a scoop of coal in.

  Had he lit the fire for them? He must have. Margaret hadn’t woken yet, and even if she had, Ella doubted her roommate would have braved coming out with a dozing lion tamer on the floor.

  “Thank you,” Ella said when he closed the square iron door.

  “Thank you.” He dipped his head. “For breakfast…and the nap.” He smiled again, then rubbed idly at his wrist. It was nice, his smile. “And thank you for helping us last night. I didn’t know what to do.” He rubbed gently at his other wrist. “Are you all right?”

  Swallowing hard, Ella moved back to the mound of blankets where the baby slumbered with her pudgy cheek squished against a damask pillow. Settling down beside the dear, Ella felt Holland’s skin, relieved at how cool it was. “I think some sleep was just what she needed,” Ella said. “And now she might even eat. I can make something softer if she won’t take a corn cake.”

  He was watching Ella warily—as if sensing the battle inside her. “We should be going. Can I take it with me?”

  She slid her mouth to the side as a plan unfolded. A way to help him and Holland, one last time. “What about this. I can feed her some breakfast, maybe even give her a bath. I could bring her along to you shortly. If you’d let me.”

  “Don’t you have to work today?”

  She was about to shake her head, but it was time to give a better answer. “No.” Rising slowly, she brushed at her hands. “I don’t work there anymore.”

  His eyes searched her face. Would the reasons show?

  “It’s not because…” He looked to be trying to piece it together. “You followed me,” he whispered. “Did they fire you over that?”

  She nearly nodded.

  “Ella.”

  “I think I might have quit.” Perhaps it was a little bit of both.

  “Over Holland.” It wasn’t a question.

  She gave him a soft, “Yes.”

  “Ella.” The way he breathed her name again made her suddenly feel like everything was going to be all right. Like someone was on her side. Someone strong and capable and caring. But the feeling vanished as soon as it formed. She barely knew him. And he was leaving soon. Very soon. Ella looked up into his face, skimming her gaze across his smooth forehead to his lightly bristled jaw, letting her attention rest for the briefest of moments on his mouth before turning all focus to the eyes that watched her with a tender openness. What was Charlie Lionheart to her?

  What could she possibly be to him?

  Remembering her offer, she put on what was hopefully a convincing smile. “Trust me. I’ll get Holland all settled and fed and then bring her along. It would be a joy.” Perhaps humor would be the best approach. “I don’t have anything else to do today and she’d save me from hours of boredom.”

  “Is that so?” A small smile.

  Ella nodded.

  He looked down at the baby who was still sound asleep and for the first time in days looked peaceful. “I suppose…” He eyed Ella again as if to make sure she wasn’t about to sprout horns. “There’s no harm in letting her sleep. As long as you don’t mind bringing her along.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  He studied her a moment longer, and she realized that his scrutiny was of a different kind. One that had her feeling very much a woman and him a man. Then their heads turned in unison at the sound of shuffling on the other side of the bedroom door. The shuffling stopped, Margaret perhaps listening just on the other side.

  “I should probably go so your roommate can come out now. I think she’s feeling held hostage.” He moved his face so near to Ella’s ear that a little shiver slid down her neck. “I do think she’s scared of me.”

  Ella peered up into his face as it slowly moved away. In a quick glance, she took in his striking form from the black coat that brushed the ground wherever he walked to his tall boots with the clattering buckles that served who-knew-what purpose.

  “You are rather intimidating,” she said half in honesty and half in jest.

  He smiled and looked once more at Holland before moving toward the door. “Oh.” One hand slipped into a pocket and he pulled out a dime.

  She sensed it was the only one he had from the soft sound of his pocket.

  “So you can get in.” He gave it to her. “And Ella,” he formed a fist with one hand, smoothing a broad thumb back and forth over his fingers, “I do forgive you…and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Suddenly her throat was tight. She drudged up a nod then a smile. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  His Adam’s apple dipped and he looked around the apartment. “There’s something else I need to tell you. We…we would be leaving tomorrow. Today would be our last performances. But we’ve got a situation with some wagons. On top of that, the roads to Charlottesville are still muddy. So much so that the roustabouts who went ahead could barely get through. The caravan won’t make it.”

  Ella drew in a breath. Held it.

  “They’ve come back, and after last night’s rain, it’s been decided that we’re going to have to wait for it to dry out more.”

  What was he saying?

  In the distance, a cannon boomed, followed by the distant roar of cheers.

  Charlie grinned. “We’ll be here for a few more days. I hope you Roanokeians don’t mind. We promise to put on a good show.” His eyes searched hers so deeply, she had to remind herself to exhale. “You’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”

  Her chest filled. A few days. So small a thing. But for some reason, those words pooled within her as warmth and hope—and she dared to ignore what dimness loomed beyond. Did her expression hold the same wonder as his own? All she could do was smile. It seemed all right, for he was doing the same.

  C H A P T E R 9

  __________

  While Holland slept, Ella tiptoed around the apartment, cleaning up her cooking mess and answering Margaret’s countless questions…

  How long has Charlie been with the circus? I don’t know.

  Why is his last name Lionheart? I’ve wondered that myself.

  Why is the baby named after a country? I’m quite certain it’s not a country.

  Don’t you find him a little frightening? Maybe at first. But…no.

  And why that was, she was still trying to understand.

  There was a large part of her that knew she should be afraid of men, but to her bewilderment, she wasn’t. At least not with all of them as a whole. She was merely fearful of those who claimed to be spiritual, as she knew what evils could lurk beneath the surface. Much better for a man to be upfront about who he was. Not hide in the shadow of some hogwash about grace and mercy.

  Ella gripped the bowl she was washing and forced rising memories away. A slow inhale burned until she released it.

  Margaret hurried about, getting ready for her shift. At a knock on the door, Ella met and paid the milkman and bade farewell to Margaret who slipped out with a wave. At the stove, Ella slid a small pot into place, added a splash of the milk, a dash of sugar, then left it to warm.

  Thankful that Charlie had had the presence of mind last night to bring along Holland’s things, she poked around in the canvas satchel and found two clean cloths for diapers, a change of clothing, a
nd a glass suckling bottle that bore a narrow, metal teat—just the thing to try and coax some breakfast into the baby. After a peek on the sweet, sleeping bundle, Ella used rags to stop up the sink. She filled a pot from the tap and moved it to the stove to heat.

  Meal. Bath. Unable to think of anything else that might help, Ella tidied up the living area and tried very hard not to think of Charlie.

  Failing at that, she was glad when Holland awoke.

  Ella scooped her up. “Good morning!” she gently cooed.

  Holland’s blue eyes were wide. Mouth pursed tight as if confused by the foreign apartment. She looked around, and Ella felt a pang that the baby was probably wondering where Charlie was.

  “He’s off to the lions,” Ella said cheerily, and about laughed at the rarity of such a comment. “We will have some breakfast and be on our way, too.” Gone were any hints of Holland’s tears, and Ella held her close as she filled the bottle, tested the temperature on her wrist, then settled in the kitchen chair with her little friend. It took several tries to convince the baby that the drink was worth tasting, but within moments, Holland drank hungrily. Using the edge of Holland’s nightgown, Ella dabbed drips of cream from her chin.

  “Is that good?”

  The baby licked her rosebud lips. When the bottle was empty, Ella broke off pinches of bread which were happily nibbled. After that, Ella moved to the sink, content with the sensation of Holland snug on her hip and the notion that the baby had a full belly. Ella filled the sink from the tap, then warmed it with what she heated on the stove. When the temperature was just right, she rinsed and bathed a very-quiet Holland who was still looking around as if Charlie might appear any moment.

  Bent over at the sink’s edge, Ella rested her chin on her hands and watched the baby play with wet, soapy toes. Fearing she shouldn’t sit too long in the water, Ella lifted her silky, slick form and held her close.

  “Oh, you are a delicious little thing,” she said, drying her off. Holland kicked her feet happily. “Are you feeling better now? A full tummy and a good night’s sleep? Your papa will be so happy to see your face.”

  From the bag, she pulled a tiny green frock with boat-shaped buttons running up the front. After white stockings, Ella slipped on the girl’s leather booties. Next she gathered up a few scattered items, tucked them all into the canvas bag, and draped the strap across her body before carrying Charlie’s little one out the door. The walk to the carnival grounds was pleasant while Ella pointed out the sights to her companion. Holland was yet to make a sound. Just those wide, ice-blue eyes, taking the world in. One soft hand clinging to Ella’s neck.

  At the entrance, Ella stood beneath the great banner announcing the Graven Brothers Circus as she pulled out the dime. Recognizing the woman in the booth, Ella searched her mind, trying to remember her name. Lorelai. That was it.

  “Good morning, Miss Lorelai.”

  The woman looked up, took the dime, then glanced from Ella to the baby as recognition dawned in her round face.

  “Why if it’s not me ’olland. Lookatcha, love. Bright and chipper for yer ol’ Aunt Lorelai.”

  Ella bounced Holland closer to the woman who gave the baby’s pudgy hand a squeeze. “I’m bringing her to Charlie.”

  “’E’ll be up at the Big Top now. Seein’ to ’is lions.”

  “Thank you,” Ella said as the force of the line about pushed her through the entrance. And now. To go find a man who was taking care of lions.

  Nothing to worry about.

  But as she drew closer, her heart pounded. It was still early enough that the crowd was building and she remembered that the main show didn’t start until one. Ella neared the massive tent with its broad red and white stripes and fluttering flags. She looked around, and spotting a man pushing a small hand cart with garbage cans, stepped that way.

  “Excuse me, sir, do you work here?”

  “Naw, miss. I just do this for fun.” When Ella pursed her lips, his mouth quirked, seeming to regret that. “What can I do for you, miss?”

  “Charlie Lionheart.” She searched for an approach that might keep him out of trouble. “I’m a nurse and was taking care of Holland. Might you be able to tell me how to find him?”

  The man doffed his cap and motioned for her to follow. “Right this way.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He led them around the colossal tent, and after unfastening thick ties, disappeared through a slit. “You’ll want to keep to the seats, miss, as he’s got the lions out an’ he don’t allow visitors at this hour,” he called back to her. “But seein’ as ya got Miss Holland…” He flashed silver teeth then slid his hat back on.

  Ella ducked inside, taking care with the baby, and nearly gasped at the sensation of the cool, still air—the musty scent of dirt and animals and distant rain. The Big Top spread wide and round, rows upon rows of vacant benches. She looked toward the grand center, and then she saw him.

  A sweeping curve of fencing circled the arena, rising from the dusty earth to the overhead rigging. And in the middle of it, Charlie was surrounded by two…no, three, grown lions. Each of the massive beasts walked around the dirt ring—him in their center. Ella gasped.

  The man beside her chuckled. “I’ll just let ya watch until he’s finished.”

  She barely remembered nodding her thanks as the man departed. Still holding Holland close on her hip, Ella stared. Charlie spoke in low tones to the animals, motioning them one way or another. A second man, dressed in striped pants and a black overcoat, watched on, his arms folded over his barrel chest as he stood just outside of the ornate bars that were as grand as the ring itself. So wide that the cage could surely house a slew of elephants. The man spoke in a gentle baritone—something about the new latch system—and Charlie said he was still trying to figure it out.

  With over a dozen rows of wooden benches ahead, Ella started forward.

  “No. You…” Charlie said to the nearest lion as it stopped and lay down, “…are not listening.” Charlie strode over, knelt, then ran his hand up the side of the animal’s tan back, patting his muscular shoulder.

  Ella’s mouth parted.

  “You big lazy oaf,” he said.

  The other man spoke something to Charlie which she couldn’t hear.

  “They’re done for the morning, La’Rue. That’s enough practice.” Still dressed in the pants and untucked shirt she’d last seen him in, Charlie sat down in the dirt beside the lion. The massive beast rolled over, reclining his head onto Charlie’s lap. With fast hands, Charlie scrubbed the animal’s thick mane, laughing as another strolled over and nudged him.

  Speechless, Ella could only stand there in disbelief and listen to the meaty slap of Charlie’s hand on hide as the great cat stretched out beside him, tail lolling back and forth. The third lion ambled over, mouth hinged open in a yawn, flashing brilliant white fangs. He let out a deep, throaty bellow that shot chills up Ella’s spine. The creature ran a huge, pink tongue across the top of Charlie’s head. Charlie chuckled and ducked away. Still roughing his hands up and down the lion lounging against him only made the animal roll farther over.

  Charlie groaned, but spoke good-naturedly. “Move over, Axel.”

  Ignoring him, the great cat just sighed. The curved ears that poked out of his mane looked bigger than Ella’s hand. Beside them, the other two lions were rolling and pawing. Charlie ran his palms under the lion’s face, pulling gently on his enormous jaw, over and over, as if it were no more than a house cat.

  The man in the distance said something, and Charlie lifted his face as he searched the stands. Then Charlie looked right at her and Ella froze. Her heartbeat suddenly in her ears, she remembered that she should have gone to his tent. She thought about standing or speaking…or at least doing something, but then he spoke.

  “It would be gentlemanly of me to stand up, but I’m being crushed.”

  Ella rose and moved down to the front row where she sat. Tucking Holland snugly in her lap, she peered through
the bars that while strong-looking, did little to block Charlie and his animals from view. The lion lifted his angular face and looked at her with pale, golden eyes. He stared fearlessly—boldly—as a king would.

  “I wouldn’t look too long. Not directly,” Charlie said. “Or he’s gonna think you want to take something from him.”

  Ella averted her eyes to the round ears that quirked when the far side of the Big Top rustled in the breeze. The left ear shivered and Charlie rubbed it. Still staring at her, the lion lifted a black-tipped tail in a slow curve before lowering it back to the dust. Then he started to gnaw on the hem of Charlie’s shirt and Charlie nudged the lion’s massive head away.

  She had no words.

  “How did you find me?” Charlie asked.

  It was an effort to draw sound to her voice. “A bit of help from Lorelai and another man. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have…” She fell silent when he shook his head in a manner that wiped away her worries. She glanced to the lions, now so near. “They can’t…get out, can they?”

  “You ask me this now?” He squinted at her playfully.

  She bit her lip and watched him another few moments. It was then that she noticed an ornate cage wagon parked off to the side. Painted a vibrant yellow and trimmed in gold and blue filigree, the giant wagon stood backed up against the arena bars.

  Ella slid her gaze back to Charlie and his great cats. She’d never imagined seeing a lion in her wildest dreams, let alone just feet away. “Is this what they normally do?”

  He nodded. “They’re done working for now. We’ve been going over a new routine and they needed some more practice.” He looked down to the one who was still lounging on him. “Especially you, Axel.”

  The lion pawed Charlie’s chest, and with a grin, Charlie shoved it off. “So that’s what we do. Earlier, we played. They get their energy out. Usually at my expense.” He winced when he shifted and she feared his implication. “And now they’ll nap, then later on, the show will start and I’ll conquer these wild and ferocious beasts with my charms.” His eyebrows bobbed. “To the crowd’s awe and astonishment. Tell me you’re impressed.”