“What’s wrong with my attitude?”
“It’s irreverent. Take your vocabulary, for example. The words you use. They’re definitely irreverent.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“Lovemaking is supposed to be sacred.”
“It’s supposed to be dirty and sweaty and fun.”
“That, too, I suppose. But holy.”
“Holy?” He regarded her with disbelief. “How can somebody who grew up around a bunch of social parasites and drugged-out rock stars be such a prude?”
“I knew it! I knew you thought I was a prude, but you weren’t honest enough last night to admit it.”
“Now I get it. You’re deliberately trying to make me crazy. No matter what I say, you’re going to get mad at me, aren’t you?” He gave her a sideways look that further aggravated her.
“Stop trying to be cute. You’re too mean to be cute.”
He cocked his head and, to her surprise, looked genuinely hurt. “Do you really think I’m mean?”
“Not all the time,” she admitted. “But most of the time. You’re definitely mean most of the time.”
“Anybody in this circus will tell you I’m the most fair-minded manager they’ve ever worked for.”
“You do seem fair-minded.” She paused. “With everybody but me.”
“I’ve been fair with you.” He hesitated. “Maybe I wasn’t fair the night they had the cake party for us, but I was surprised, and—that’s no excuse, is it? I’m sorry, Daisy. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that.”
She studied him, then gave a small nod. “I accept your apology.”
“And I wasn’t mean last night.”
“I’d rather not talk about last night. And I want your promise that you won’t try to seduce me again tonight. I have some thinking I need to do first, and I’m going to do it on the couch.”
“I don’t know what there is to think about. You don’t believe in sex outside of marriage. You’re married. What’s the problem?”
“I’m circumstanced,” she pointed out gently. “There’s a subtle difference.”
He muttered a particularly nasty obscenity. Before she could chastise him for it, he jerked the wheel to the right and pulled into the Cozy Corner Truck Stop.
This time their waitress was sullen and well past middle age, so Daisy felt safe leaving him alone at the table to go to the rest room. She should have known better, however, for when she came out, he had struck up a conversation with a flashy blond sitting in the opposite booth.
She knew he’d seen her, even as she watched the woman pick up her coffee and slide over next to him. She even thought she knew why he was doing this. He wanted to make certain she didn’t attach any emotional importance to what had happened between them.
She gritted her teeth. Whether Alex Markov wanted to admit it or not, he was a married man, and all the flirting in the world wouldn’t change that.
She stalked over to a pay telephone on the wall not far from the booth where the blond was admiring his muscles. As soon as she had her temper under control, she picked up the receiver and kept it pressed to her ear while she counted to twenty-five. Finally, she turned back to her husband and called out, “Alex, darling! Guess what?”
He lifted his head and regarded her warily.
“Good news!” she chirped. “The doctor says this time it’s triplets!”
Alex was finally speaking to her again by the time they arrived at the new lot. As he climbed out of the truck and began unhitching the trailer, he told her she wasn’t going to be working with the animals anymore. Instead, she would start doing lighter duty, keeping the costumes mended, and, of course, appearing in spec every night.
She frowned at him.
“I thought you’d be happy not to have to work so hard,” he said. “What did I do wrong now?”
“Why did you wait until this morning to lighten my duties?”
“No particular reason.”
“Are you sure?”
“Stop beating around the bush and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I feel a little bit like a hooker who’s just gotten paid for duties performed.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’d made up my mind about this even before we slept together. Besides, who says you’re the one who should get paid. I think I performed pretty damn well, too.”
She ignored his baiting. “I said I’d take over the menagerie, and I meant it.”
“I’m telling you that you don’t have to.”
“And I’m telling you that I want to.” It was true. From her experience with the elephants, she knew the work would be hard, but it couldn’t be worse than what she’d already survived. And she had survived. She’d shoveled manure until her hands blistered, hauled heavy wheelbarrows, been swatted by cantankerous baby elephants. She’d looked fear in the face, and she was still on her feet—battered, maybe, and certainly bruised, but still standing.
He regarded her with a mixture of incredulity and something that almost seemed like admiration, although she knew it couldn’t be that. “You’re going to see this thing through, aren’t you? You’re not going to run away.”
“I’m not making any long-term predictions. One day at a time is the most I can manage right now.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and frowned. “All I know is that I have to do this.”
“Daisy, it’s too much work.”
“I know.” She smiled. “That’s why I have to do it.”
He gazed at her for a long moment and then, to her astonishment, dipped his head and kissed her. Right there, in the middle of the backyard as the workers bustled around them, as Brady and his sons practiced their acrobatics and Heather juggled, he gave her a deep, long kiss.
When they finally drew apart, she felt warm and breathless. He raised his head and glanced around. She expected him to look embarrassed by their public display, but he didn’t. Maybe he was trying to make up for the incident with the cake, or maybe his motivations were more complex than that, but for whatever reason, he’d let everyone in the circus know that she meant something to him.
She had little time to ponder the incident as she set about her duties in the menagerie. A young worker named Trey Skinner appeared and told her Alex had assigned him to help her with the heavier work. She had him position Sinjun’s cage in the shade and haul some hay for her, then she let him go.
To her relief, Lollipop didn’t try to spit at her again, but she still gave the llama a wide berth. In addition to Lollipop, Sinjun, and Chester, the menagerie contained a leopard named Fred, a vulture who’d had his wings clipped, and a gorilla. There was also a boa constrictor, but to Daisy’s relief, the snake had become Jill’s pet, and she kept him in her trailer when he wasn’t on display.
Following Digger’s sketchy instructions, Daisy fed the animals, then began cleaning out the cages, starting with Sinjun’s. The tiger regarded her with lofty condescension as she gave him his shower, acting as if he were granting her a privilege by letting her serve him.
“I don’t like you,” she grumbled as she turned the water on him.
Liar.
She nearly dropped the hose. “Stop it,” she hissed. “Stop putting thoughts in my head.”
He yawned and ducked into the spray, making her feel unbelievably foolish.
When she was done with Sinjun’s shower, she wandered back into the tent and stared at the lowland gorilla named Glenna who was caged in the corner. Her dark chocolate eyes were sad and resigned as she stared out through the iron bars of battered old cage that seemed much too small for her. Something about the animal’s quiet resignation fascinated Daisy, and she found herself approaching the cage.
Glenna sat quietly watching her, assessing this new human being in what must have seemed like an endless parade of humans who passed by her cage each day. Daisy stopped and waited, feeling as if she somehow wanted Glenna’s permission before she came closer, as if in this one small event, the gorilla should have a choi
ce.
Glenna moved to the front of the cage and observed her. Slowly she raised her arm and pushed her hand through the bars. Daisy stared at it and realized the gorilla was reaching out to her.
Glenna waited patiently, her hand extended. Daisy’s heart thudded. She could barely bring hers if to pet a kitten, let alone touch a wild animal, and she wanted to turn away, but the gorilla seemed so human that to ignore the gesture would have been an unforgivable breech of good manners, and she walked hesitantly forward.
Glenna’s hand rested palm upward. With the greatest reluctance Daisy extended her own hand and, using the tip of her index finger, gingerly touched the tip of Glenna’s finger. It was soft and smooth. Feeling a bit braver, she stroked its supple length. Glenna closed her eyes and gave a soft gorilla sigh.
Daisy stayed with her for some time, stroking her hand and feeling as if her life had somehow found a sense of purpose.
As the morning slipped by, her questions about the proper care of the animals multiplied. Several times she ran over to ask Digger for advice about feed and daily routine, and each time she approached, Tater trumpeted at her like a playground bully.
Digger answered her questions reluctantly, and she knew he was still put out by what had happened between them yesterday. As she turned to leave after her second series of inquiries, he spat, barely missing her sneaker.
“Don’t have time for any more of your questions, Miz. Wouldn’t want nobody to think I’m lazy.”
“Digger, I didn’t say you were lazy. I was just worried about the conditions in the menagerie.” She secretly wondered how much Digger really knew about the proper care of the menagerie animals. He loved the elephants, but he didn’t really care about the others. He certainly hadn’t known that tigers loved water. She resolved to do some research herself in her free time.
His rheumy eyes were full of resentment. “I been around animals for fifty years. How long you been around?”
“Only two weeks. That’s why I need your advice.”
“I ain’t got time for no talk. Got too much work to do.” He looked past her, and his lips parted in a grin that showed yellowed teeth curling in on several gaping holes. Too late, she saw the source of his amusement Tater had sidled up behind her.
Swat!
She felt as if she’d been hit in the chest with a tightly rolled piece of carpet. With no time to brace herself, she flew across the ground before stumbling against a bale of hay. Her hip hit the dirt, sending shards of pain shooting up into her body. Digger’s wheezy laughter echoed in her ears. She lifted her head just in time to see an expression in Tater’s eyes that looked very much like a smirk.
Fireworks went off in her brain. She’d had enough!
Ignoring the pain in her leg and hip, she vaulted to her feet and descended on the baby elephant, shaking her fist. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! Ever! Do you hear me?”
The elephant took a lumbering step backward as she went after him. “You’re rude, nasty, and mean! And the next time you swat me, you’re going to be sorry! I won’t stand for being abused! Do you understand me?”
Taper let out a pitiful little elephant bleat and ducked his head, but she was a woman who had been pushed too far. Forgetting her aversion to touching animals, she poked his trunk with her index finger. “If you want my attention, you earn it by being nice! You don’t earn it by swatting me every time come near!”
His trunk drooped, and one of his ears turned inside out as it flopped forward. She reared herself up to her full height. “Do we have an understanding or not?”
He lifted his head just far enough to butt it gently against her shoulder. She crossed her arms, rejecting his peace offering. “I can’t just pretend none of this happened.”
He nudged her again, his brown eyes baleful. She steeled herself against the sweep of those impossibly curly lashes. “I’m sorry, but it’s going to take time. You have a lot to make up for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the menagerie.” She turned to walk away.
He bleated. Pitiful. Heartbroken. Every boy in the world who’d lost it all for love.
Her steps slowed and her heart softened as she saw the woebegone baby elephant with his sagging ears and mournful brown eyes. His defeated little trunk dragged on the ground, the tip curling in the dust.
“You brought this on yourself,” she pointed out,
A tiny, plaintive trumpet.
“I tried to be nice.”
Another pathetic trumpet. And then, to her astonishment, she saw tears begin to trickle from his eyes. Digger had told her that elephants were one of the most emotional animals in existence and they’d been known to cry, but she hadn’t believed him. Now, as she watched the tears running down over Tater’s wrinkled skin, her resentment dissolved.
For the second time that day, she forgot her aversion to petting animals. She reached out her hand and stroked Tater’s trunk. “That’s not fair. You’re as big a crybaby as I am.”
His head perked up and he took a few tentative steps toward her. When he came close, he stopped as if to ask for permission before he rubbed his head against her shoulder.
Once again he nearly sent her flying, although this time the gesture was one of affection. She rubbed his forehead. “Don’t think that just because I forgive you I’m going to be a pushover. You have to mind your manners or it’s all over between us.”
He snuggled against her as gently as a kitten.
“No more swats. No nasty bathroom tricks.”
He let out a soft puff of air, and she surrendered. “You silly baby.”
As Daisy lost her heart, Alex stood by the back door of the big top and watched it all happening. He saw the elephant curl his trunk over her arm and smiled to himself. Whether Daisy knew it or not, she’d just made a friend for life. He chuckled and headed toward the red wagon.
Heather had never been so miserable. She sat at the kitchen table of their Airstream and stared down at her day’s schoolwork, but the print on the page wouldn’t come into focus. Like the other circus kids, she was doing her schoolwork by correspondence through the Calvert School in Baltimore, a place that specialized in teaching children who couldn’t go to regular school. Every few weeks a fat envelope arrived full of books, papers, and tests.
Sheba had gotten into the habit of supervising Heather’s schoolwork, but Sheba’s own formal education hadn’t been terrific, and she was pretty lame at anything except monitoring the tests. Heather was having trouble with geometry, and she’d gotten a D on her last English composition.
Now she pushed her book aside and stared down at the piece of notebook paper in front of her that she’d been doodling on. Mrs. Alex Markov. Heather Markov. Heather Pepper Markov.
Shit. Why had he let her do it? Why had Alex let Daisy kiss him like that right out there in front of everyone? Heather had wanted to die when she saw that kiss. She hated Daisy’s guts, and the best thing about these past few weeks had been seeing her all dirty and nasty from hauling shit. She deserved to haul shit.
Over and over Heather tried to ease her guilt about what she’d done to Daisy by telling herself that Daisy deserved what had happened to her. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t fit in. And she should never have married Alex. Alex had been Heather’s.
She’d fallen in love with him six weeks ago when she’d first set eyes on him. Unlike her father, he always had time to talk to her. He didn’t mind having her follow him around, and before Daisy had come along, he’d even taken her with him sometimes when he’d gone to run errands. Once when they were in Jacksonville, they’d gone into this art gallery together and he’d explained stuff to her about the pictures. He also encouraged her, to talk about her mother and had said couple of things about why her dad was so stubborn.
But as much as she loved him, she knew he still thought of her as a kid. Lately she’d been thinking that maybe if he’d realized she was a woman, he’d have looked at her differently and not married Daisy.
Once again, guilt stabbed at her. She hadn’t planned to take that money and hide it in Daisy’s suitcase, but she’d gone into the red wagon, and Daisy had taken that phone call, and the cash drawer had been open, and it had just happened.
It was wrong, but she kept telling herself it wasn’t too wrong. Alex didn’t want Daisy—Sheba said the same thing. Daisy was going to make him miserable, and because of what Heather had done, he could find it out right now instead of later on.
But the kiss she’d witnessed this morning told her Daisy wasn’t going to let him go that easy. Heather still couldn’t believe the way she’d thrown herself at him. Alex didn’t need her! He didn’t need Daisy when he could have Heather.
But how was he supposed to know the way she felt about him when she’d never told him? She pushed aside her books and jumped up. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to make him see that she wasn’t a kid. She had to make him understand that he didn’t need Daisy.
Without giving herself time for second thoughts, she rushed from the trailer and headed toward the red wagon.
Alex looked up from the desk as Heather walked in. She’d tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her plaid shorts, which were almost entirely covered by an oversize white T-shirt. She looked pale and unhappy, like a fairy-sprite with clipped wings. His heart went out to her. She had it rough, but she kept fighting, and he liked that about her.
“What’s up, honey?”
She didn’t reply at first. Instead, she began to wander aimlessly around the trailer, touching the arm of the couch, the handle on a file cabinet. He saw a faint orange mark on her cheekbone where she’d tried to camouflage a pimple, and he felt a rush of tenderness. Someday soon, she was going to be a real beauty.
“Troubles?”
Her head snapped up. “Not me.”
“That’s good.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I just thought you might want to know . . .” She ducked her head and began to poke at the cuticle around one chewed fingernail.
“Know what?”
“I saw what Daisy did to you today,” she said hurriedly, “and just want you to know that I know you couldn’t help it and everything.”
Kiss an Angel Page 18