In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Griffin, Pamela

  Angel thought back. “At the tent when Roland and I got there—”

  “We were discussing it, yes. I can’t go against Papa’s wishes, but at the same time I don’t want to live without Chester.”

  “Wouldn’t Mahoney be upset if you two married?”

  She scowled. “We can’t live the entirety of our lives to suit our boss. I tried that, and I’m sick of it. After what Germaine did, running off with Lionel just because Mahoney didn’t want them to marry… Truth is, I think he liked her. But Chester and I don’t plan to leave the carnival, not that it matters. Not if I can’t get Papa to change his mind.”

  “Doesn’t it, um, bother you, how he takes care of his fleas?”

  Cassie laughed, sounding relieved to change the subject. “I didn’t like it one bit at first, let me tell you. But he’s said it’s safe; it’s not like he could get a disease, since they aren’t the type to bite animals.” She shrugged. “I think when you love someone you just have to learn to take the fleas with the flowers.” She grinned at her joke. “No one’s perfect, Angel. You find that out pretty fast when working at a joint like this. Every man has his flaws or idiosyncrasies that you wish like everything you could change—and I’ll bet the guys feel the same about us women. But if you love a person enough, you don’t mind dealing with the problems or even ignoring them. Because there’s so much more to appreciate. I love his laugh, the way he always tries to make others laugh, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and…” She caught herself, embarrassed. “I just love being with him. And if living without a certain man is more difficult than living with him, imperfections and all, I think that’s a basis for true love.”

  Cassie’s words brought Roland to mind, which confused her. She didn’t have feelings for him, and certainly, if she did, they would never include love. Still, she considered his main flaw: his mobster family. He couldn’t change his origins, but he tried to change his future; she admired his perseverance in what she imagined couldn’t be an easy challenge to undertake.

  The train took a sudden sharp bend, throwing the girls against each other, and Angel again concentrated on striving to remain in one piece.

  “Not to worry,” Cassie assured her. “Won’t be much longer. We should reach New Milford soon.”

  “I am so relieved to hear it!”

  The girls looked at one another then giggled, and their conversation took on other directions as the train sped them to their destination.

  “How long did you say till we get there?” Roland didn’t want to sound like a coward, but having never ridden in anything but his family’s private car, he was getting a lesson in roughing it he would long remember. No one, but no one from the old life would imagine him in such a place. The thought pleased him.

  With a maddening grin Chester eyed Roland’s white-knuckled grip on the bedpost. “Track usually isn’t so bad. Must have run into some rough. Winds are pretty high.”

  “You can say that again.”

  The train made another sharp rocking motion.

  After endless minutes Roland heard the warning whistles and felt the train’s momentum begin to slow.

  “Don’t look so smug yet. Now is where the fun really begins,” Chester observed from where he sat on the floor, his back against the wall. “Once we pull in, we gotta get everything up and ready for tonight. Hope you got a good rest, ‘cause you’re gonna need it.”

  At Chester’s amused grin, Roland shot his new—and at the moment, questionable—friend a dirty look. Rest? The man had to be pulling his leg. The travel had been about as restful as racing pell-mell across New York City in a car with bad springs while being chased, like when Roland was a boy and his bodyguard grew a little too careless flirting with the lady friend of a dangerous mobster who happened to be one of Grandfather’s worst enemies. After that incident, the bodyguard disappeared. Roland imagined his new locale was the bottom of the Hudson River.

  Even riding on a train with a conductor who seemed to prefer the idea of flying by airplane to traveling by land and tried to push his locomotive to the limits of the airborne daredevils couldn’t compare with the fear of that summer day. Living as a Piccoli, Roland had lost track of the times he’d been certain his life would end. Despite the hardship, he felt doubly thankful he had followed Angel what seemed longer than a mere week ago. He preferred living in this atmosphere, a world apart from his wealthy and dangerous roots. The carnies treated him with suspicion at first—he was a novice at menial labor and hadn’t had an easy time of gaining their trust, something he still worked at—but at least they hadn’t questioned him about his past, and for that, Roland was grateful.

  Exiting the train, his legs still shaky, he noticed the glow of dawn filled the sky. The train had pulled off onto a sidetrack, away from the junction and out in the wilds, as before.

  The roustabouts immediately began setting up the rides, and the meal tent was erected on the other side of the lot, breakfast administered rapidly. Afterward, with no idea what was expected of him, he searched out Mama Philena. She handed him a bucket of paste and a long-handled brush. “I’ll take care of the animals. You go into town and hang flyers. On the sides of buildings, anywhere they’ll fit.”

  He remained still when she turned to go. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He lifted the items he held in emphasis when she only stared. “The flyers?”

  “Oh, I’m not forgetting anything, dearie. It’s a two-man job. Your partner has them. Waiting over there for you, by Samson’s railcar. Best hurry. It’s a long walk into town.”

  Mama turned away, chuckling most wickedly, her shiny purple shirt seeming to echo her devious behavior, crackling with laughter at him as it rustled with her swift movements. He harbored no doubt about the identity of his partner. When he reached Angel waiting near the train, he went into surrender before she could pose an attack.

  “I promise I had no part in this. If you want me to find someone else to help me, I will.”

  A grin, both amused and exasperated, lifted her mouth. “Oh don’t be silly, Roland. I’m not mad. They do seem determined to put us together though, don’t they? It’s actually quite strange, when you consider it, since Mahoney’s number one rule for his carnival seems to be to discourage close rapport between male and female carnies.” She shrugged in an offhand manner, further baffling him. “I don’t mind working with you. Are you ready?”

  Her eyes sparkled, as if she anticipated the outing.

  Would he ever figure her out?

  The walk to town was a few miles, but time seemed to pass quickly now that Angel had let down her guard and conversed on friendly terms. They talked of everything: the carnival; their experiences with it; the weather, sunny and clear. But they avoided the subject of their lives as if by unspoken agreement. Roland was almost sorry when they arrived in town, a pretty little community with the usual Victorian-style houses and stores, with a strip of short grass and blooming trees running along its center.

  They chose a building with old, peeling posters as their first mark. While Angel held the carnival flyer against the wood, Roland executed a few swipes of paste over the paper with the brush until it rested flat against the building. Angel let out a little squeal when the bristles whisked over her hand.

  “Sorry. This is my first experience doing this sort of thing.”

  “That’s okay.” She rubbed the back of her sticky hand on a leg of her denim trousers. “I imagine, with the life you’ve led, you’re not accustomed to manual labor of any… regular sort.”

  Her words were cautious, her manner intent, and he recognized her desire to know more.

  “You really don’t want to know, Angel.”

  “Did you…” Her teeth pulled at her lip. “Did you kill anyone?”

  Why did that always seem to be the first question the ladies asked? “No. But if I’d stuck around, my grandfather would have put me in a position to do so. He made that very clear at our last meeting.”

  She gave an abrupt no
d. “Okay, so I guess we should find our next spot. Mama said fences or anywhere posters have been hanging and public buildings. They cleared it with those in charge, I would hope.” She quickly moved away.

  He followed her with brush and bucket. “I put that life behind me, Angel.”

  “I know.”

  “But it still scares you.”

  She hesitated. “Can you blame me? All I know about you Piccolis is what I read in the papers. And what I’ve heard from others.”

  “We’re not all cut from the same cloth. A cousin doesn’t approve of the family business either. He’s the quiet type though. Doesn’t have the nerve to stand up against his father.”

  “What about your fiancée? How does she feel about it?”

  “My what?” Stunned, he stopped walking. Her face was rosier, and he wondered if the exertion of the walk or the nature of the question had caused it.

  “The papers said—”

  “The papers. The society pages, no doubt.” Roland grimaced at the reporters’ tendency to get facts incorrect and spin their own web of tales to sell their blasted papers. “Well, they got it wrong. I’m not engaged.”

  “But—”

  “I was almost engaged, for two weeks. We were thrown together by our families. Both of us realized it wouldn’t work. She loves someone else, and I don’t love her. End of story.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so nosy.”

  The tension left his muscles. “It’s all right. No harm done.”

  “My aunt wanted me to marry someone, too. It’s part of why I ran.”

  Taken aback, this time by her unexpected confidence, he shot her another look. He felt encouraged that she had relaxed with him enough to talk about her past and on her own initiative.

  “Hey, mister!”

  They turned to see a freckle-faced youngster, his brown hair uncombed and sticking out in tufts, his pants worn in the knees and a little too long. He looked around nine years of age.

  “Whatcha carryin’ a pail and brush for?”

  “We’re part of the carnival about three miles down the road.”

  The boy’s eyes sparkled in excitement. “In Sutter’s Field?”

  “I… don’t know. It’s a field, near the depot.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Angel gently chided.

  The boy scowled. “Aw, book learning’s for sissies.”

  “I’m no sissy, and I read books.” Roland thought the boy’s arrogant attitude toward education was much like his brother’s. “An education will always benefit your mind and will keep working for you as you grow older.” He felt Angel’s stare and wondered if he was being too hard on the youngster.

  The boy shrugged. “Can’t go anyhow. Not since things got so bad. Mama needs me at home while Pa looks for work and Rex, too. That’s my brother. I’m Sam. I’m runnin’ an errand for Mama now.”

  Roland felt remorseful for his stiff words. After living a privileged lifestyle when it came to assets, it was too easy to forget the nation suffered a depression. “I’m sorry, son.”

  “How long will the carnival be here?”

  “A couple of weeks, I imagine.” Roland glanced at Angel, who shrugged. The flyers didn’t say. He looked back at the boy. “I hope things go better for your family. We need to hang the rest of these posters now.”

  “Okay.”

  The boy dogged their steps up the road. He talked a mile a minute, and Roland thought a career as a carnival barker might be a strong prospect for his future. Their small, self-appointed guide pointed out buildings, talked about their owners, whether he did or didn’t like them, and expressed a strong desire to visit the carnival. Roland wondered if Sam was forgetting his errand.

  Together he and Angel pasted another flyer to a building, and the boy watched, engrossed. He followed them as they completed two more. Once they finished, he grinned.

  “I gotta go now.” He moved toward the druggist’s, next door to the wall where they had hung the poster.

  “If you come to the carnival, look me up,” Roland said before Sam could disappear. “I’m a caretaker of the animals. We even have a live elephant.”

  “No foolin’? An elephant? Hot diggety dog! Wait’ll I tell Joey. And he thought finding that turtle was so great!” He rushed into the building, and Roland smiled, remembering his own boyhood excitement and curiosities.

  If only the warm feeling could have lasted.

  Roland’s blood froze as he caught sight of a thickset man wearing a three-piece, pin-striped suit and fedora five buildings away, near a lamppost. He slipped the bucket handle over his wrist, took the brush leaning against the building, and grabbed Angel’s arm with his free hand, turning her quickly with him in the opposite direction.

  “Hey!” She looked at him in confusion but didn’t try to break his grip.

  “Just keep walking.”

  He kept his voice low but couldn’t mask his alarm. Her eyes widened, and she started to look over her shoulder.

  “Don’t look, Angel.”

  Quickly she focused ahead. Once they reached the corner of the next building and darted around it, he peered around the side, then he pressed his back against the wall and closed his eyes in a dizzying mix of anxiety not to be found and relief to have escaped.

  “I should have known the conductor might say something about my sudden disappearance,” he muttered. “My grandfather has close ties with the company.”

  All color drained from her face. “Your f–family? H–here?”

  “He was too far away to make out, but a man back there looked like one of Grandfather’s associates.” Roland doubted many citizens of New Milford wore such expensive suits or had the ox like build Giuseppe did. And Grandfather’s men traveled in pairs, which meant Giuseppe’s partner, Lorenzo, wasn’t far. “We need to get back to the carnival. Now.”

  She gave a jerky nod, her eyes round with the same apprehension he felt.

  “It’s all right, Angel. He didn’t see me. If we head around the back and circle the buildings, we should be safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Again he clasped her arm, this time gently, his manner intense. He noticed her state of shock and gave her shoulder a shake to break her out of her daze.

  “Are you with me?” He kept his tone calm but firm.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He smiled to reassure her, though he felt just as anxious, and pulled her with him through the first phase of his plan. To his relief they found their way back to where they started, unobserved.

  On the open road Roland felt like a sitting duck. He doubted Giuseppe would shoot; in all likelihood, his orders were to bring him back unharmed. But Giuseppe had no respect for women, those not connected with the family, and Roland dreaded the idea of him coming in contact with Angel, uncertain what the goon might do. The best-case scenario would be if he demanded she come with them; the worst-case… Roland didn’t dare imagine the worst case.

  Not once did he release his hold on Angel’s arm, and he felt the tremors of fear that moved through her. She managed to keep up with his rapid gait but didn’t say a word. Once the carnival tents came in sight, he felt her relax and heard her protracted sigh of relief.

  “I’m really sorry about all this,” he said grimly before they joined the others. He looked back at the road to make sure they weren’t followed. “I guess you had the right idea all along about staying as far away from me as you could.”

  Instead of fleeing his company, as he was sure she would do once he released her, she whirled to face him, her eyes intense. “Are you in danger if he finds you?”

  Shocked that she should care, it took him a moment to respond. “He probably only has orders to bring me home. But Angel…” He took a deep breath. “I told you once that you weren’t in danger. With Giuseppe I can’t make that promise. Of all the men my grandfather could have sent, he’s the worst of the bunch.”

  She didn’t ask him to explain, and he didn’t care to.

  “What
will you do now?”

  “I’ll leave the carnival. I can’t put anyone else in danger.”

  “But—where will you go? Won’t you be in even more danger if you leave, since you said that here you can blend in and that your grandfather’s men wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this?”

  “I can’t take that risk now.”

  She grabbed his arm, again startling him.

  “You can’t put yourself at risk either. You’ll be easier to spot if you leave such a crowded place. And you said they could be ruthless, even to family.”

  “It’s my family, Angel. I’m not going to let anyone here suffer because I had the luckless curse of being born a Piccoli.”

  “You can’t leave,” she insisted. “Talk to Mama; tell her about this. She’d be easier to talk to than Mahoney, and she is his mother. I’m sure she’d agree. And if you don’t tell her, I will.”