Spellbound

by Sharon Ihle

  “Pardon me, Mollie,” Gant said, strolling up with J.R. in tow. “I wonder if I might trouble you for a minute of your time.”

  Mollie glanced up at him, and then at the man beside him. “No trouble a’tall. We were just finishing.” She turned back to the circle of performers. “Take a ten minute break. I want to get busy on these new projects as quickly as possible.”

  As everyone got to their feet and began to drift away, Mollie caught Rayna by the elbow. “Would you mind staying? There’s a few more things I’d like to discuss with you before the others get back.” She paused to glance at Gant. “You don’t

  mind if she stays, do you?”

  Instead of answering, Gant, who’d been watching Rayna out of the corner of his eye anyway, shifted his full attention to her. Even though properly groomed and dressed, she was somehow more exotic this morning than she’d been last night. Her hair, braided into one thick ebony rope, was draped down over the front of a crisp white blouse tied high at the base of her throat. And her eyes—those incredible eyes, although ringed with circles of exhaustion, were as beckoning as ever. Rayna smiled at him then, moistening her swollen lips in the process, and rolled her eyes toward Mollie. It was then that Gant realized they’d been staring at one another as if they were the only two people on the ship.

  Strangling on nothing, on the air that he breathed, Gant coughed into his fist as he said, “Rayna’s welcome to stay. What I’ve got to say isn’t that private.”

  Maybe not the conversation, Mollie thought, but from where she stood, the way her partner was looking at Rayna, was. Certainly private enough anyway to make her feel as if she’d walked in on the most personal of moments a man and woman could share. When had this happened, she wondered?

  Blushing, trying to appear as if she hadn’t noticed a thing, Mollie turned to the stranger with Gant and asked, “So who have we got here? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

  “That’s one of the things I want to talk to you about, Mollie.” Gant gestured to the kid. “This is my younger brother, J.R.”

  “Your brother? You mean he’s one of the---“ She cut herself off then and took a quick glance at Rayna.

  Keeping his voice low, Gant finished Mollie’s thoughts. “Yes, he’s one of the Gantry brothers. Rayna met him last night.”

  “Oh,” Mollie said. “I see.”

  But Gant could she that she didn’t. He explained about running into his brothers at Greenville, and then later when they’d come to the circus.

  As he spoke, Rayna took the opportunity to have a better look at J.R. When she’d first seen him at the landing, most of her attention had been on Luther, obviously the more dangerous of the two. Now that she really had a chance to study the younger brother, she could see the resemblance between him and Gant. J.R.’s hair, damp, looking as if it had just been washed, was a shade lighter than his brother’s, more brown than sable. Although very nearly the same midnight black in color, there was also a distinct difference in their eyes, and not simply in their diverse shapes. Gant’s intelligence, cunning, and quick wit shone clearly in his intense gaze. J.R., on the other hand, while not exactly exhibiting a lack of intelligence, gave off a duller impression.

  “So if it’s all right,” Gant went on, keenly aware of Rayna’s gaze—and that it rested on J.R. instead of him. “I thought you might find a place for him in the circus. He’s expressed an interest in being a clown. Do we have room for one more?”

  Mollie laughed. “Hear that, Rayna?”

  Preoccupied, she hadn’t. “What?”

  “Gant’s brother. He wants to be a clown. Think we can find a spot for him?”

  “Well, let’s see.” Rayna returned her attention to J.R., but this time, she put her hands on her hips and slowly circled him, making mental notes about his physical characteristics, the deficits as well as attributes. He was powerfully built through the chest and shoulders, long of waist, and if sitting side by side with Gant, would probably meet him head to head. He looked very strong. A definite plus.

  From the waist down, however, J.R. lost several inches over his taller brother. From what she could tell through his Levis and apparently custom-made chaps, the younger Gantry’s legs pretty well stopped at the knees, the distance from calf to ankle less than half the length of his thighs. That was also a plus, she decided, especially if they turned him into a baggy-trousered clown.

  Smiling, Rayna considered his low center of gravity as she looked into J.R.’s droopy eyes. Clown eyes. “How’s your sense of balance?” she asked him. “Can you walk across a log stretched over a stream with your eyes closed?”

  He shifted toward Gant, automatically seeking approval, and then said, “I ‘spose I could if I wanted to. Why?”

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  He shrugged. “Not that I know of. Ain’t never been treed by a hound named fear, if that’s what you mean.”

  Rayna burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what I mean.” She glanced at Mollie. “J.R. might just be the little spark we’re looking for in Anna Mae’s act. Can you see him up there dressed as a carpetbagger?”

  Gant couldn’t see him that way at all. “Isn’t Anna Mae a wire walker? What’s that got to do with J.R.?”

  Thinking of him as her employer, not as a man, Rayna turned to Gant. “I think J.R. would be an excellent complement for her. Mollie’s looking for more comedy, and your brother wants to be a clown. Why not on the high wire?”

  Gant looked up at the ceiling, at the network of ropes and steel rigging, and then dropped his gaze to J.R. Shaking his head, he said, “It’s up to you, kid. If you want to let these women stick you on a rope so you can break your neck, I won’t stop you.”

  J.R. had obviously already considered the idea and made up his mind. He said, “Sh—I mean, golly, Gant. Walking across that wire on my hands would be like a stroll in the park compared to living on the run with Luther or Pa. How do I get up there?”

  *

  While his training turned out to be far from a stroll in the park, he proved to be a natural at both comedy and acrobatics, including wire walking. Rayna, who was given the job of both creating the act, and then instructing J.R., was grateful for the distraction. That task, in addition to working on her own new act, gave her fewer hours in the day to brood about Gant. To think of what it had been like to lie in his arms. To want him.

  She’d been so busy the past two days, she’d hardly laid eyes on Gant. He’d been up top at the pilot house most of the time working as a spotter for Duke, checking each ripple and wave for snags and sawyers, helping to ensure the safety of the steamship. Even Hans, a man who simply was not going to take no for an answer, had only managed to corner her twice in all that time. In both instances, she’d been able to put him off by pleading female complaints, but what would she do when he no longer accepted that excuse? How could she discourage him short of sticking her dagger into his tiny little heart?

  Weighed down by those thoughts, Rayna stepped out from between the double doors and onto the main deck. Dusk had already settled over the relatively calms waters of the Mississippi. Soon the ship would nudge its way onto a low-lying riverbank for the night. By tomorrow, they would dock in Memphis. Then it would be time to put on the show.

  Her excitement growing at the thought of unveiling the new acts they’d worked so hard to create, Rayna glanced toward the bow of the ship. There she saw Mollie in an animated conversation with Hans. Not far from their mother’s feet, little Minnie and Mattie scuffled, fighting over a toy.

  Warmed by the sight, Rayna hugged her arms to her waist and headed in the opposite direction. Toward the stern. Just as she reached the flat near the back of the ship, she realized that someone was standing at the other end of the giant paddlewheel. And that a pair of hot black eyes were upon her.

  Slowly turning her head, Rayna locked gazes with Gant. He was alone, standing near the rail, hands shoved into his pockets. Had he been thinking of her?

  Gant moved s
lowly at first, one sure step at a time. He was walking toward her, his eyes still intent on hers. Her heart was pounding with joy and her mouth was watering in anticipation. Soon Gant would sweep her into his arms. Then his mouth would seek hers, the perfect fit. She would allow this and more, curses be damned. Rayna arched her neck and filled her lungs with the sultry evening breeze. She smiled. Any moment now Gant would reach her, touch her.

  At once, from the corner of her eye, she picked up a flurry of movement near the bow of the ship. A quick glance showed her that Hans had concluded his conversation with Mollie, and was now heading down the deck toward the stern. Please, she thought desperately, let him be going to the stairs.

  Looking back to where she’d last seen Gant, Rayna saw that he was still advancing, grinning most wickedly, the devil flashing in his dark eyes.

  Rayna forced her gaze away from him and checked on Hans. He’d passed the stairs. There could be no other destination for him now but to reach her. She heard Gant approaching, not more than three feet away.

  And then Hans called out, “Rayna. Come here. I must talk with you now.”

  “Sorry, Hans,” Gant said as he reached Rayna’s side. “Some other time. She’s not free right now.”

  Despite the clear warning, Hans kept on coming, his expression dark and determined.

  Just before Hans reached her, Rayna heard a blood-curdling scream that could only have come from Mollie.

  She spun around toward the forward section of the ship in time to see a tiny blonde head spinning along with the rapid current. In less than a few seconds, the bulk of the ship would pass by the child.

  The little girl, arms flailing, was headed right for the churning paddlewheel. And sure death.

  Ten

  Without thinking of her own safety, Rayna immediately dropped to her knees and threw herself across the low railing. As she leaned out over the water, a pair of strong hands encircled her waist. Then she heard Gant’s frantic voice instructing her over the rush of water.

  “Go on,” he shouted. “Reach out as far as you can. I won’t let you fall.”

  Trusting him with her life as well as the child’s, Rayna stretched as far as she could. A split second later as a tiny nest of yellow curls came spinning by, she filled her fingers with that baby-fine hair and pulled, dragging the child up and out of the water. In the next second, Gant had them both in his arms, and then he set Rayna on her feet.

  Spouting muddy water, as enraged as she was frightened, a sobbing Minnie threw her arms around Rayna’s neck and clung for dear life.

  “Dear God,” Mollie cried breathlessly as she raced to her daughter. “Are you all right, baby?”

  Mollie tried to pry Minnie from Rayna’s arms, but the child, still sobbing, couldn’t be budged. Calming her daughter and herself in the only other way she could, she began stroking Minnie’s back, cooing comforting phrases as she caressed her.

  “There, there honey. Mama’s right here.”

  When Minnie’s cries continued at the same frantic level, Mollie set her own fears aside and offered a sure stopper for the child’s reservoir of tears.

  “Hush now, Minnie, or you’ll get Rayna all in a dither. You don’t want that, do you? If she thinks you’re going to be a crybaby, she might change her mind about letting you ride Pierre in her new act.”

  That dangling carrot plugged Minnie’s dike with a suddenness that was punctuated by a loud hiccup. She lifted her head from Rayna’s shoulder and said, “Ride Pierre? In the circus?”

  Mollie shot a nervous glance at Rayna, and then gave a reluctant nod. “She wants you to ride him into the ring, make him do a couple of tricks, and then ride him out again. Do you think you’re a big enough girl to do all that?”

  “I’m this big.” She stretched her tiny arms apart as far as they could go, and then slapped her chubby hands to each side of Rayna’s face. Then she graced her with a wet, noisy kiss.

  As Minnie lavished Rayna with hugs and kisses, Mollie whispered her gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you. If you hadn’t acted so quickly, I can’t even think about what might have happened.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Rayna said. “Having Minnie in the act is thanks enough.”

  “I’m riding Pierre,” Minnie said with a giggle.

  Mollie sighed. “Yes, you are.” With a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head and her firmly in her arms, she rounded the landing and disappeared up the stairs.

  Smiling to herself, Rayna turned to Gant, intending to thank him for his part in the rescue. Before she even had a chance to open her mouth, Hans slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  “That was very heroic of you, darling. Come now. We have some work to do.”

  Hans moved as if to drag her away, but Gant stepped in front of him. “Sorry, but Rayna is busy right now. Why not start your work without her?”

  As bullheaded as he was shallow, Hans wouldn’t be discouraged. He tightened his grip on Rayna’s waist and said, “Our work cannot not be started or completed without her. It has to do with za mule, Pierre. How did you say he got his name, again, Rayna? Something to do with your time in Pierre, Illinois, perhaps?”

  Rayna looked into those cold blue eyes, and shivered. Time was up. She either had to give into Hans, or find a way to get rid of his blackmailing attempts. Since the latter was the only real option, Rayna wondered what Gant’s reaction be if she were to tell him about her past. Would he be receptive, understand and accept the fact that she’d been jailed? Or would his already low opinion of her drop even lower?

  Not ready to take a chance, Rayna softly said, “Hans is right. I really must go with him now. I’ll see you at supper, Gant.”

  He made no reply, but Rayna could almost feel the tension in the air, the anger shadowing her like a great dark cloud. She swallowed hard and started for the show ring with Hans one step behind her.

  Fists clenched, jaw tight, Gant stood frozen in place until well after the pair had disappeared through the doors leading to the arena. Then, frustration exploding inside him, he spun around on his heel and kicked the railing as hard as he could.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Rubbing his sore toe against the back of his leg, Gant tried to figure out why Rayna ran off with Hans the way she did. Nothing made sense, but at the thought of Rayna with the big German, he kicked the railing again, harder this time, and almost welcomed the fresh waves of pain. Then he glanced around the deck, belatedly wondering if anyone had seen his outburst. There wasn’t a soul in sight except for the lone figure of his brother.

  Laughing as he approached Gant, J.R. said, “What’cha doing? Trying to get a better fit for your boots?”

  “Shut up,” Gant said, hobbling away from the railing.

  Although J.R. had come to feel comfortable in the presence of this brother he remained cautious enough to stay out of his reach. They were, after all, Gantry’s. And any man who carried that name was capable of damn near anything, including parricide.

  “Sorry,” J.R. said. “I didn’t know you was really hurt. How come you went and kicked the wall?”

  “Because it was there, all right?”

  As Gant leveled him with a sharp-eyed glare, he could see that J.R.’s newfound confidence was beginning to waver. Too late, Gant recognized the fact that he was so damn frustrated didn’t have a thing to do with the kid. And he sure didn’t want to dampen J.R.’s attempts at making a new life.

  Packing his anger away for review later, Gant quietly asked, “Did you want something?”

  J.R. hedged, and then did what he always did when faced with an angry Gantry. He hung his head before he said, “I was just wondering about something. I can ask you later when you’re not so mad.”

  Feeling lower than the toe he’d just smashed, Gant said, “Sorry for yelling, J.R. I’m having a bad day.”

  “I kinda noticed that.”

  “Then I hope you also noticed that it has nothing to do with you. What do you want
?”

  J.R. looked down at the deck, shuffled his feet, and then looked up at Gant from under the ledge of his brow. “It’s, um, about, um, well, women.”

  “Women?” Surprising even himself, Gant burst out laughing. “You picked a hell of a day to ask me about women, kid. It seems I don’t know a damn thing about them myself.”

  Nervous laughter skittered out of J.R.’s throat. “You got to know more than I do.”

  “I doubt it. What is it you want to know?”

  “It’s about Anna Mae Gunther. She’s lots of fun to work with, but she’s been acting kinda funny all day.”

  “What do you mean by funny?”

  “I can’t explain it so good, but it’s like she wants me to do something with her.”