by Tess Oliver
“All right. Not my business to pry.” She sat up and smoothed back her hair. “I’m happy not to dance today, but I sure don’t look forward to cleaning up, especially in mud. Which reminds me, sure hope Emma didn’t use up all the hot water in the bathing tent. She tends to not care how many other people need it.”
“I’m not going to bother to bathe until after clean-up this morning. Besides, if I don’t get a cup of coffee soon, I’m going to climb back into that cot and stay there the rest of the day.” I pulled on my work clothes and boots and headed out.
The early risers were already hard at work picking up any debris and garbage left behind by the carnival goers and the storm. Hector and Francine, like Rose and me, were just trying to shake off the grogginess of the night before. Francine looked as petite as a wood sprite next to the hulking strongman as they crouched over the cooking pit sipping their coffees. I didn’t even need to ask. Francine’s arm shot out with a full tin cup, and I grabbed it greedily.
“You’re an angel, Francine. I owe you.” I took a deep whiff of the coffee. Its rich aroma was almost enough to revive me. Everyone in the camp preferred their cups of Joe to be black as pitch, and this morning’s was no exception. I lifted the steaming liquid to my lips and sipped it. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about liquor. Now, if those fools on Capitol Hill decided to ban coffee drinking, then that would be a reason for a full on rebellion.” I glanced around. “Has Emma already had her coffee? She must have been up early.”
Hector hadn’t taken the time to wax his moustache, and it looked particularly droopy this morning. “Emma hasn’t been around. Are you sure she’s up?”
“There aren’t too many places she could hide in our tent. I assume she’s out and about already.”
“Maybe she’s in talking to Buck.” Francine stood, still cradling her coffee like it was liquid gold. “I’ll take you up on your offer of owing me. Rusty needs some sunlight. You know how he hates cold, damp weather. I’ve got to go around and check the traps for his breakfast.”
“So, he’s cold, grumpy and hungry?” I looked at Hector with a silent plea.
He shook his big head. “Don’t look at me. That snake makes my skin crawl. Sometimes when I’m kissing Francine, he gives me the evil eye like he’s planning to squeeze and swallow me.”
Francine and I had a good laugh over that impossible scenario.
“I don’t think there’s a snake on earth that would consider you possible prey, Hector,” I said. The coffee had cleared my head, and the fresh air and laughter had lifted my sour mood. I was upset with Jackson, but, in retrospect, it seemed I’d overreacted. I’d been hurt and even a little embarrassed by his accusations against Buck. But even if he was utterly wrong, Jackson was just worried about me. Knowing that made me feel a little better.
“Well, I guess I can only nurse this cup of Joe for so long before I get hit over the head with a sweeping broom,” Hector grunted. He stood with painstaking slowness, like a ninety-year-old man coming off the rocker he’d been sitting on for hours. “That fight ring is taking its toll on me. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
I chuckled into my tin cup. “I think all of us can say the same thing. Otherwise, we’d be getting younger instead of older. Why don’t you let some of the volunteers and amateurs fight each other?”
“I’d be fine sitting on the outside of the ropes for a change, but I don’t think Buck would like that.” He motioned with his square, wide chin toward the main tent. “Speaking of Buck—”
I looked back over my shoulder. Buck looked even worse off than I had been before I drank the dark elixir of life from the dented tin cup. But Buck couldn’t use the excuse of not having had his coffee yet. He was already holding a cup in his meaty fist. There was a piece of paper clutched in the other. The closer he got, the worse he looked. This wasn’t all from having had too much whiskey. There was a frosty pale shade to his usually ruddy complexion, and his beard was twitching even more than usual.
“Buck? Are you feeling all right?” I asked.
I was standing not five feet from him, but he hadn’t heard me. He looked around with a strange, faraway gaze as if he’d forgotten he owned a carnival.
“Buck?”
His attention shot back to me. His eyes rounded as if he hadn’t even noticed me standing there. “Charli, morning. Have you seen Emma?”
“Not this morning. I thought she might have been in your tent.”
There was something hesitant about his response. “She wasn’t with me.” He shoved the paper he’d been holding into his pocket. It wasn’t just me. Francine and Hector watched him with the same amount of curiosity and worry as I did.
“Everything all right, Buck?” Hector asked.
“Hmm, yes, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat and put on his best morning scowl. “Shouldn’t you all be pitching in? We’ve got to get this place cleaned up,” he barked. “The carnival is closed today, but I’ll be expecting you in the ring, Hector.”
“Right, Mr. Starfield.” People, especially people like Hector who had worked for Buck for a long time, never called him Starfield. Hector was making a point that he was unhappy about being ordered around. I couldn’t blame him. Fighting day after day, even if you were always the victor, would take its toll on anyone, even a man built of iron like Hector.
***
I’d spent the morning helping Dodie sweep the area around the sphere clean. I decided that once my work was done, I’d take the motorcycle out to Jackson’s house. I owed him an apology or, at the very least, an explanation about why I’d been so defensive. It really did come down to the reality that Buck was the only family I had left in this world. As much as he often irritated me, and even though he had some really unbecoming qualities, my mother had loved him. And he had loved her. If nothing else, we always had that important bond between us. Even though the flaming hoops had been his idea, he had been just as devastated by her loss as me. I just refused to believe that Buck would do anything that would put me in danger. I needed to let Jackson know that was why I’d reacted so strongly to his insinuation.
The weather here was extremely fickle. Yesterday, deep gray storm clouds had hovered over the grounds like a threatening wet shroud, and today, the sun beamed down full of spirit and warmth. I headed to Francine’s tent to take Rusty out for a walk. I’d always found the snake to be an extremely good listener, as long as his belly was full. If not, then he spent his entire walk watching the birds chirping on the wires above.
As if my thoughts of hungry snakes had conjured him, Griggs stepped out from the main tent. He said something to the two big men behind him. They stayed put as he approached me.
“Charli, I’ve been looking for you.” He took the liberty of stepping within just a few inches of me. I moved back. He followed me with forward steps. Sarsaparilla, that was the fragrance coming off his hair. I’d finally figured it out.
“I was just talking to your stepfather. He tells me, with the exception of the fight ring, the carnival will be closed. So, you’ll be free tonight. You and I can hit the town.”
I held up my finger. “If you’ll excuse me just one second.”
His thin lips twisted in an angry knot, and I half-expected him to follow me into Francine’s tent. Daylight cast his small, mean silhouette against the canvas. Rusty stared up at me with a bored look as I reached in and picked him up. Griggs always walked around with his bodyguards. I decided to do the same. “Come on, buddy. I need you.”
“Charli, I don’t like to wait,” Griggs barked from outside.
“Coming.” Rusty made himself comfortable around my shoulders. His broad, flat head lifted instinctually as I stepped into the warm sunlight.
“What the fuck?” Griggs fell back several feet, and I was certain I heard the two thick-necked thugs he’d left behind gasp.
“Now, you were saying?” I went on with our conversation as if nothing untoward was happening. Griggs, on the other hand, seemed to have lost s
ome of his swagger. Rusty was better than a gun. There was no way the man was going to come within ten feet of me now.
“What the hell do you have there?” He snarled a laugh and looked back at his men. “These circus freaks, huh?” He didn’t take his beady eyes off the snake as he spoke. “I thought we’d head across the bridge tonight. Put on something real pretty, and I’ll treat you to a night out.”
“Sir, are you asking Rusty out because I really don’t think you’re his type.”
He lunged at me with a vicious expression before seeming to remember the giant serpent around my shoulders. He backed off. “Listen, little tease, you get yourself gussied up real pretty and be ready at nine.”
“Not a chance.”
His harsh glare flicked from me to the snake and back again. He lifted an angry finger and pointed at me. “I guess you think you’re a clever girl arming yourself with that snake.” He stepped a little closer but still kept a good distance. “Know this, your stepfather is losing plenty of money at my tables. He’s already up to his fat face in debt. One way or another, I always collect what is owed me.” The lascivious expression on his sharp, mean face left no room for misinterpretation. “If your refusal has anything to do with that two-bit rum runner, Jarrett, then you should rethink it. The boy works for me. With a snap of my fingers, I can put him out of business. That same finger snap can cause him a great deal of pain too, if you catch my meaning.”
“Mr. Griggs, I assure you nothing you’ve said here needs interpretation.” His threat about Jackson horrified me, but this was no time to show any weakness. “I know you are a snake.” I patted Rusty on the head. “Sorry, buddy. Bad comparison.” I glared at the man. His face was like cold stone. “My refusal has nothing to do with Jackson Jarrett. We are nothing to each other.” Just saying the false words aloud felt like a stab in the heart, assuring me that I had fallen hard for Jackson. “I won’t go out with you because I hate you. Simple as that.”
The stone facade cracked some with my last words, but I was sure his self-confidence would just brush it off as unfathomable.
“You will bend to me soon. Otherwise, this whole damn place will collapse around you.” He snapped his fingers. His loyal servants trotted after him as he strode across the midway to the parking lot.
As if he’d been waiting for Griggs to leave, Buck stepped out of the main tent. His face was pale, and he looked a bit unsteady. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d laced his coffee with liquor.
It was time for me to confront the man on just what he’d been up to. “Buck,” I said sharply.
He walked over and stroked Rusty’s head. “Did you have a nice talk with Griggs?” he asked before I could start my own interrogation.
“No, talking to that man is never nice. But he sure seems to think that somehow I will agree to go out with him.”
Buck’s beard twitched. He purposely averted his eyes, pretending suddenly to have a profound interest in the snake. “You’ve been getting plenty of rats, I hear, Rusty.”
“Buck? Why does that awful man think I will date him?”
“Would it hurt you to be a little more friendly to Griggs? He’s my business partner, after all.”
Rage heated my face. Rusty shifted on my shoulders. Like most animals, the snake was extremely sensitive to mood changes. “You mean he’s your illegal bookmaker. Your gambling debt is your business, Buck. I want no part of it.”
His eyes flickered with anger. “Well, missie, if it affects this carnival, then it becomes everyone’s business.”
I stared hard at him, warning myself not to cry in front of him.
His expression softened when he realized that approach would not get him anywhere with me. “Look, Charli, so you gussy yourself up and step out with the man once or twice. No big deal. Now tell me, is Rose still seeing that bootlegger, Jarrett?”
“You can ask her that question yourself. Why are you taking an interest in Rose’s social life?”
“I don’t give a damn about Rose’s social life.” His shoulders were extra bunched as he turned and walked away.
Jackson had been right. He’d been right about everything, and I’d gotten so angry at him for suggesting it.
Chapter 17
Jackson
The last thing I needed in my dark mood was another cozy chat with Griggs, but almost the second I walked in for my order list, I was being ushered down the hall to his office. Only this time, the weasel wanted to see Gideon too. One thing about my brother that I always admired was that, just like our pa, nothing ever made him uptight. He walked into the office as if he was walking into Mabel’s to get a pack of smokes.
He leaned up against the wall of the office, looking bigger and tougher than any of the pin-striped lackeys standing around the boss. His massive frame inside the wood-paneled office even seemed to make Griggs uneasy.
“Please, Mr. Jarrett, you and your bother have a seat.” His stubby fingers waved at the two leather chairs in front of his desk.
“I’ll stand if you don’t mind,” Gideon said.
I remained standing too. “Is this about today’s job?” I asked, wanting a quick end to the meeting. Every time I walked into his office, I wondered if I would leave it standing up.
He shot a scowl my direction, and something told me the angry look had nothing to do with my question. He moved his focus to Gideon.
“I have a job for you, Jarrett, and since you’re working for me, you really have no choice except to do it.”
My muscles tensed, but Gideon still leaned casually against the wall. He pulled out his cigarettes and tapped one out. “Something tells me this has nothing to do with running moonshine.”
Griggs leaned back, and the leather on his chair squeaked. “Very perceptive. There was a little scuffle in this joint the other night. I watched you feed three bellbottoms their hats.”
Gideon puffed his cigarette. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
I knew where this was going. I’d been right about the planned fight. Griggs had wanted to see for himself if Gideon was as tough as rumor had him.
Griggs leaned forward and reached for a cigar. “Now, I’m sure you know this because you’ve been fucking that little burlesque dancer at the carnival.”
Gideon straightened, causing the silent wall of thugs around the room to stand at attention. Griggs’s comment had knocked the laid-back attitude right out of my brother, and it was never good to light his fuse.
“Relax, Gid,” I muttered under my breath. Gideon definitely had the strongest fist this side of the mountains, but even his torpedo right hook was no match for half a dozen revolvers.
Griggs smiled, pleased that he’d woken the sleepy giant. “By the expression on your face, I can see that I hit a nerve. Good. As you know, we’ve been taking bets for the fighting ring over at Starfield’s. His strongman has rightfully earned a reputation as indestructible. That’s where you come in. We need you to step in the ring with him. You’ll be the long shot. You’ll win. I’ll see to that. Then Starfield and I sweep up. Or I should say, I’ll sweep up. The old fool owes me a damn fortune. He has no self-control when it comes to the gaming tables. I just about own his whole fucking operation already.” His deep-set eyes flashed my direction. “Pretty stunt riders included.”
It was my turn to straighten. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
“I’ll do it,” Gideon said, obviously sensing that this meeting was getting ugly fast. “When?”
Griggs’s black eyes glittered with dollar signs. “Just need a day to spread the word and collect wages. Something tells me a fight like this is going to draw a crowd big enough to fill the tent.”
“Are we done here?” I asked. “Need to get on the road to do your bidding, remember?”
Griggs waved at the man to his left to hand us our list for the day. I released the breath I’d been holding as we opened the door to leave.
“I’ll see to it that Hector takes a dive,” Griggs said as we walked out.
“No need. He’s not going to win.” Gideon took another draw on his cigarette as he walked away.
***
Gideon was mostly silent as we made our runs. None of this was good. It seemed that Buck Starfield had foolishly gotten himself in much deeper with Griggs than he should have. Buying some crates of whiskey from the man was one thing, but owing a cutthroat like Griggs money was a whole other deal. None of that would have mattered to Gideon and me if we hadn’t both gotten involved with two women whose lives depended on Buck Starfield’s decisions.
Bodhi and Noah were sitting on the front steps as Gideon and I pulled up to the house. “So, is it true?” Bodhi asked. “Is Giddy going to fight the carnival strongman? Gid will make him into sausage,” he continued enthusiastically without waiting for an answer.
I glanced back at Gideon as I pushed open the screen door. “News travels fast.”
“It’s not just news,” Noah said. “There are handbills tacked up all over town. Hector the Strongman vs. Gideon the Crusher.”
“Giddy’s going to knock that giant right on his big fat ass,” Bodhi laughed.
I swung the screen door shut and headed to my bedroom. I stretched out on my bed and my mind drifted to the night before when Charli had been stretched out naked beneath me. She was so damn mad at me when she slammed out of the car. There was no way to erase what I’d said. Even though it was clear now that I’d been right, it wouldn’t repair the rift between us. Buck was her family, and I was just some passing fancy on the long road of her life. I was stupid for letting myself get so wrapped up in the thought of her. I’d learned my lesson after losing Ella. I’d stuck to my guns, never giving my heart to anyone since. But my willpower had crumbled once I met Charli.
A stuttering motor that sounded something like a swarm of angry hornets vibrated my bedroom window.
