Kyle Warren was what could only be described as old-school. He owned neither a cell phone or computer and rarely used the telephone. Almost all of his communications were done through letters. Dusty had often thought his father’s one-man war against technology was his way of trying to preserve his gypsy lifestyle.
Dusty sat back in his chair and read:
Hi, son,
Sorry for the short notice, but I’m writing to ask a favor. The circus has fallen on hard times, and I need your help. Over the past few months we’ve had much smaller crowds than usual, even in the cities where we do better than average. I’m chalking it up to this bad economy of ours, but placing blame doesn’t solve the problem.
As a result of this, I was not able to renew my circus/carnival license in time for our Birmingham, Alabama, performance, and the city would not allow us to set up camp. Needless to say, this setback just made matters worse.
So I’m writing to let you know we need to camp out on your ranch until I can get our license straightened out. I wouldn’t inconvenience you if we had somewhere else to go, but you’re the only one I know of with the room to accommodate everyone, including the animals.
We’re not looking for charity. We are all more than willing to work to pay our way, and we just need a place to stay temporarily.
By the time you get this letter we will already be heading your way, so we will arrive at the ranch by the end of the week. See you then.
Pop
Dusty leaned forward and placed his hands over his face. “Damn,” he whispered to the empty room.
The last thing he needed right now was for his ranch to be overrun by elephants, tigers and fire eaters. But how could he turn them away? The motley crew that made up the Warren Traveling Circus was the only family he had.
Dusty stood from his chair and crossed to look out the window that overlooked the ranch. His ranch. Acres and acres of land bought and paid for by his sacrifice.
He knew a lot of men in his position would see the open fields of green grass and tall trees as a waste of space and money, but for Dusty it was all he’d ever wanted: wide-open spaces. Standing there looking out over the fields, he felt the conflicting emotions he always felt when it came to his father and the circus.
When people asked him about his background, he would tell them he grew up in a circus and they would think of dancing elephants and flying trapeze artist. They would assume growing up in a circus would be second only to growing up in Disneyland. Most of the time, he did nothing to dissuade that opinion.
A lifetime of training was not broken easily and from the time he could talk he’d been taught not to speak ill of the circus. But what no one ever considered was what it was like after the lights went out and the people went home. Sure they got to see dancing elephants, but someone had to clean up after those elephants. And sure the trapeze artist performed wonderfully, with nothing but smiles and waves to the crowd below. But the crowd never realized that trapeze expert was often hiding the pain of recent injures behind those smiles. Because in the circus, hurt or not, the show must go on.
And not only must the show go on, but it must appear seamless to the audience. Just as a magician would never reveal his tricks to the audience, a circus master would never allow the audience to see what went on outside the big tent. And Kyle Warren was a true circus master.
But Dusty had seen it. For the first seventeen years of his life he’d lived it, without even the buffer of a mother’s love. Semta Owusu had been a beautiful, equestrian rider whom Kyle had fallen head over heels in love with. But what Kyle had not realized was Semta had a wanderer’s soul, and no desire to be a mother.
Kyle himself rarely talked about her. Dusty had eavesdropped on enough conversations as a child to sort out most of the story. Like the fact Semta was over her infatuation with Kyle within weeks of the love affair’s beginning, but Kyle’s love never died.
According to the stories he’d heard, Semta was already in the process of making preparations to leave the circus when she became aware of her pregnancy. At Kyle’s request, and to honor what they’d shared, she decided to carry the child to term and give him over to Kyle to raise. Once Dusty was born and given to his father’s custody, Semta disappeared from the circus and their lives forever.
Dusty had never even so much as seen a picture of her. And because carnie logic did not run the typical route, Semta had become something of a folk hero among the group. But not to Dusty.
The first several years of his life were the best memories, and he attributed that to a child’s blissful ignorance. But once he was old enough to become aware of the world, the world outside the circus, he found himself longing for something different. Something that could give him a sense of stability.
Between the multitude of schools he’d attended and self teaching, Dusty had learned enough to take the test and get his GED at sixteen.
When he announced to his father he wanted to go to college, Kyle had dismissed the idea as ridiculous. But a year later when Dusty received an acceptance letter from the University of Miami, Kyle got the first glimpse of his son’s rigid spine.
Dusty made it clear he was going, with or without Kyle’s support, and Kyle gave in, secretly believing Dusty would miss the circus life and return. He never did.
And for several years things had been tense between the two men until a few years ago when the circus stopped in Tampa. Dusty drove up to see the show and was welcomed back into the fold by the people he’d known and loved all his life.
Now they were coming here. To his home.
He turned from the window and picked up the receiver on his desk phone. He dialed the number he’d already memorized and waited while it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mikayla. It’s Dusty.”
“Hello.” The smile in her voice was all the comfort he needed.
“I was just wondering if you have any plans for lunch today?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
“I was thinking maybe I could grill up a couple of pork chops here and toss a salad?”
“Sounds great. What time?”
“Around twelve, if that’s okay for you.”
“I’ll be there with fork in hand.” She laughed.
By the time he hung up the phone, Dusty was feeling much better, and the cloud that had come over him after reading his father’s letter had completely dissipated.
What started that afternoon with grilled pork chops continued for several days, and Dusty and Mikayla spent every available minute together. They spent the days visiting portions of the Keys neither of them had ever been to before, and their nights were spent eating at either of their homes.
Dusty was beginning to understand Mikayla’s lack of details regarding her background was deliberate, and it made him more curious about the woman. Sometimes she would say or do something that made her seem so much older than her twenty-eight years, but when she was with Angel she was like a playful child.
He wasn’t sure what she was hiding, but he knew it had something to do with Angel. He found himself remembering what she’d said to him on the first day. I named her Angel for a reason.
But despite his misgivings, he did not press her for information. He was enjoying being in her company too much to do anything that would push her away.
With each passing day, he realized his father’s circus was getting closer and closer to Miami. He’d already designated a portion of the ranch for their use, and alerted his staff to the upcoming changes. At least, what changes he could warn them about.
Most of the time, when he thought about the circus, he would force away the thoughts by concentrating on something else. His work, Mikayla, anything. But sometimes the thoughts could not be pushed away, and he was left feeling a strange sense of depression he didn’t quite understand.
The day before he expected his family to arrive, he and Mikayla visited Coral Castle. As they stood taking in the stone sculptures, Dusty decided to shar
e his news with her.
“I may not be able to see you for a while.”
She turned to him with a hurt expression. “Why not?”
He took a deep breath. “My father is bringing the circus here. He’s having some problems with his license and needs a place to hide out. I’ll be tied up with them for a while.”
She smiled. “The circus is coming to town.”
Dusty gave her a strange expression. “I guess you could say that.”
After a few seconds of silence, she turned back to the coral sculptures, and Dusty held back the question he wanted to ask her.
Finally he gave in to the urge and just asked, “Would you like to meet them?”
She turned and hugged him, and he realized he’d just said what she wanted to hear. “I would love to.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, and as it always did when he was with Mikayla the troubling feelings subsided. He was beginning to think all he needed to get through this visit was to just hold tight to Mikayla.
“Mikayla,” he whispered in her ear, “I noticed you don’t talk about yourself much.”
She leaned back from him. “Nothing to talk about.”
“I disagree. I want to know what made you.”
She frowned. “What made me?”
“What things formed you into the woman you are today.”
She turned back to the sculptures. “Remember what the plaque at the front of the museum said about this place?”
“What plaque?”
“It said for the thirty years he was building this place, Ed Leedskalnin refused to let anyone see him work.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“It also said no one is certain how he built this place, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable to us now—does it?”
“What’s your point?”
She pulled his arms close around her waist, and backed up until she was pressed against his chest. “My point is what made me, as you say, is not as important as what we have right here, right now.”
Dusty stared down into her eyes and read the warning. He knew if he kept down this road he would find himself walking alone. “Okay.” He nodded, deciding that for today prudence was called for. At least for today. But one day, he wanted to know the secrets she kept closed up so tight. The things she did not want to share with the world.
Before he wanted to know out of curiosity, but now, it was essential. He needed this part of her she was so reluctant to show the world as proof she cared for him as deeply as he cared for her. And he did indeed care deeply. In fact, he was falling in love.
Chapter 11
The next night, Dusty cooked dinner for Mikayla at his house. It was dusk as the pair stood over the open grill in his backyard, examining the chicken on the grill.
“I think it’s ready,” Mikayla said, studying the meat and listening to her stomach rumble. She’d spent the day writing, and sometimes during those periods when she was in the zone she forgot to eat. As a result, now she was starving.
Dusty shook his head. “No, not yet, just a few more minutes.”
She frowned at him. “You’re gonna burn it.”
“I know what I’m doing.” He gave her his most seductive smile. “Trust me.”
“I trust you, it’s my stomach that’s having doubts.”
Dusty closed the lid of the grill. “Just a few more minutes, and then the meat will be so tender and juicy it will fall off the bone.”
“Using words like that doesn’t improve matters.”
His smile became a grin. “Words like what?” He walked to her and took her in his arms. “Words like…tender—” he slid his large hand along the outside of her thigh “—or words like juicy?” he whispered as his hand closed over her rounded bottom. He pulled her closer and whispered into her ear. “Those kinds of words?”
Mikayla nodded, her mind focused on the feel of his hands on her body. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to her own.
“Damn.” Dusty sat her back away from him. “Stop, Mikayla.” He gestured to his groin. “You’re waking the beast, and if you want your dinner anytime soon, I’d advise you let him sleep.”
She smiled and lifted a questioning eyebrow. “The beast? Somebody has a pretty high opinion of themselves.”
He shrugged. “I’m not the one who gave it a nickname.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh, really?”
Dusty glanced at her when he realized his mistake. “I just meant—you know. Men always give their male parts outrageous nicknames. I’m sure women do it, too. For instance, what do you call her?” He gestured to her body.
“A vagina.” She shook her head. “Fine, I’ll leave the beast alone. Besides I’m more hungry than horny anyway.” She turned back to the long picnic table where they planned to eat. “Where are your dogs?”
“Who knows.” He joined her at the table. “Probably down at the circus. Ever since they arrived, I’ve found everyone from my staff members to nosy neighbors snooping around down there.”
Mikayla glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the circus tents that could be seen even from a distance.
Seeing the forlorn expression in her eyes, Dusty said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take you over there soon.”
“How’s it been going so far?”
“Not as bad as I’d imagined. In fact, it’s been kinda nice. I’ve seen people I haven’t seen in a few years.”
“And here you were worried they would take over your ranch.”
“I’m still worried.” He went back to check the grill, and as he lifted the lid the smoky smell floated toward Mikayla.
“Mmm, that smells wonderful.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “Now it’s ready.”
They sat at the picnic table and ate the grilled chicken, potato salad and corn on the cob Dusty had prepared, and watched the sun set over the western edge of the property.
“It’s so serene here,” Mikayla said, pushing her plate away. She’d eaten until she felt ready to burst and there was still leftovers. “So peaceful.”
He watched her face in the dim light. “You haven’t had a lot of that, have you?”
“What? Peace?”
He nodded, still watching her emotions play across her face.
“Who has?”
“True. But there is something more going on with—”
“How’s Angel?”
“What?”
“I stopped by the kennel earlier and she was not there.”
“Sam has her out. She has a lot of energy for a six-year-old. He likes to take each of the dogs out for a long run in the evening.”
“I guess I’ll check back on the way home.” She glanced at her watch. “What time do they leave for the day?”
“Six.”
She frowned, glanced at her watch again and then let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see her next time.”
“Or…”
She tilted her head to the side. “Or what?”
“Or, you could stay the night and see her in the morning.”
She said nothing, and for a moment Dusty regretted the suggestion.
“You’re asking me to stay the night?”
“Yes.”
She reached across the table and took one of his hands in hers. “Are we ready for that?”
He smiled. “I’ve been ready since I saw you running through my hospital.” He stood from the table, and walked around to her side and held out his hand to her. “I want you, Mikayla, but I can wait. If you’re not ready for this, I can wait.”
Mikayla sat staring at the hand for several long seconds before she seemed to come to some kind of decision. She bit her lip, took a deep breath and took the offered hand.
Dusty, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, led her back into the house. As they reached the back door Mikayla paused and Dusty felt as if the world had slipped out from beneath him. H
e turned to look at her.
“What about the food?” she asked, glancing back at the table.
Dusty felt his heart start beating again. “I’ll take care of it later.”
He guided her into the house and up the stairs and down the hall. He could feel Mikayla’s hand going cold as he led her into his bedroom. Once they were inside, he closed the door and twisted the latch.
She looked into his eyes. “Locking us in?”
He shook his head. “No. Locking my three knuckle-heads out.”
She laughed. “Do they interrupt you a lot?”
He wrapped his arms around her. “They haven’t had a lot of opportunity to.” Dusty took her mouth in an urgent kiss. It was as if he were a starving man, and she was a feast. As his eager hands roamed over every inch of her body, he didn’t know where to start. There was so much he’d wanted to touch, to hold, to kiss, to taste. And now that she was with him, he wasn’t sure he would survive the night.
Mikayla responded with an enthusiasm he’d dreamed about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight, parting her lips beneath his to accept his hot tongue as it explored every inch of her mouth.
Dusty wasn’t sure if he’d carried her or if she’d walked, but within seconds she was beneath him on the large, high-poster bed. His blue-jeans-clad legs pushed hers apart so he could sink into the crevice of her body.
Dusty was awed by how well their bodies fit together. It was as if she were molded just for him. But there was only one potter that could create anything as divine as Mikayla Shroeder.
He let his tongue slide over her neck in featherlight touches, savoring the shifting of her body as she tried to avoid the tickling sensation. He slid his hand between their bodies and cupped the seat of her jeans and almost groaned at the heat coming from her center. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Not sure he could wait much longer, Dusty sat back and pulled his polo shirt over his head, before scooping her up in his arms once more. It was as if he could not bear to stop touching her for even a moment.
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