The Ringmaster's Wife

by Kristy Cambron

  She dedicated the moment to the remarkable woman who had changed both her life and Colin’s.

  They flew through the act, Colin directing their mastery of the ring with his bow.

  Ingénue glided with hooves that danced on air, Rosamund feeling the memory of every turn and start and stop with her hands and heart in unison. She thought of Mable, how time had drawn too short too fast. And of Bella and the Rossi family, how everything had changed in the blink of an eye. And of the rest, her family, Owen, Annaliese, and the ever-smiling Ward. And the animals, led by the kind-eyed Nora and her little Mitra, who had followed along behind his mama with trunk clinging to her tail.

  Theirs was a story she wanted to tell that night, of the resiliency in the people’s menagerie she’d found at the circus. She prayed always to look through life with a lens of love and kindness, just as Mable had.

  To shed the mask and the costumes, to offer her best to the world in return.

  The act came to an end, she and Ingénue flowing through their final backbend lift with precision. And she trusted Ingénue to edge over to the side of the ring, as always. She slipped down, waiting for the roar of the applause.

  But it didn’t come.

  No sound permeated the air until Rosamund heard steps crunching on sawdust and straw. She turned her face to it. And she felt a hand slip into hers. Colin stood at her side, and she needed no invitation to know what to do—they bowed together, receiving the ovation of their lives. Even with a faceless crowd. And even with a Big Top that was pitch-black all around her.

  “Thank you for the new watch,” he said, leaning close to her ear.

  “You found it.”

  “Yes. You’re smarter than Mable gave you credit for, slipping it into my violin case. Did you know I’d play for you tonight, that I had to do it one last time?”

  “No,” she answered truthfully. “But I hoped you would, for all of us. Mable wanted you to have your time back.”

  “I went to see her, you know. Yesterday. She wasn’t awake, but I was able to speak to her. I thanked her for my life, and I didn’t even know she’d thought of me in her last days. Not until you brought me this watch.”

  “She said you’ve given enough to your grief and it’s time to live. So,” Rosamund whispered, easing her hand from his and replacing it with Ingénue’s reins, “live. And please—you and Ingénue take care of each other for me while you do.”

  CHAPTER 36

  1929

  BEACON, NEW YORK

  The calendar was but a breath from turning the page to autumn.

  Rosamund sat in a wicker deck chair in the expanse of fields beyond her aunt’s estate, rolling Bella’s golden thimble in her fingertips. She listened to the song of the birds in the trees and the wind that sifted through their branches, giving her just a bit of evidence to picture what their rustling must have looked like.

  The early-morning hours were her favorite. She’d taken to sitting there each day, wondering what the New York fields looked like in comparison to the foggy mist painted in the fields at Easling Park.

  The sounds around her were amplified with the limitations of sight. And though it often rained on the North Yorkshire mornings she’d spent outside, she could already feel the promise of the sun’s late-summer warmth beginning to caress her face along with the wind. She could sense the memory of Ingénue’s hooves, almost hearing the sound they made when connecting with the earth.

  “Rose.”

  Her name came out on a breath of wind.

  Colin.

  She turned her head, shock freezing her hands in her lap. The breeze caught up wisps of hair around her brow, dancing them against the skin of her cheeks.

  “Colin?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice close to her ear. He was kneeling. She knew because she could feel his warmth at her side. “We didn’t mean to startle you. Your aunt said we could find you here.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. I come bearing gifts again.”

  She felt his fingertips slip over hers, opening her hand. If he was surprised to find a thimble there, he chose not to say. Instead, his fingertips connected with the skin of her palm, sweeping the golden trinket away and replacing it with a thick leather strap.

  “Here,” he said, easing her fingertips over the worn leather reins.

  “Ingénue!” Rosamund’s heart leapt, turning somersaults in her chest. “My friend.” She heard the horse’s soft neighs behind her.

  “Yes. She’s here. You brought me a gift, remember? Well, Mable wanted you to have one as well. Mr. Ringling said she was quite insistent that you two should be reunited. And that you know in this gift, Mable wanted you to have your time back. She said you’ve spent far too much of it grieving. That it was time to go home.”

  A tear slid down Rosamund’s cheek, and Colin caught it softly, in a butterfly’s kiss of a fingertip to skin.

  “You told Ingénue and me to take care of each other,” he whispered. “You couldn’t have meant us to do that on our own. Without you, neither of us makes a lick of sense.”

  “Are you really here right now?”

  She gripped the reins, pushing up against the chair’s armrests to stand. She felt Colin stand too, offering a hand to brace under her elbow.

  “Yes,” Colin said, his voice soft and tipped with the Irish brogue she so loved. “Ingénue is right behind you. You can reach out and touch her if you want.”

  Rosamund shook her head, allowing the reins to drop from her fingertips. She raised an arm, feeling the soft touch of linen beneath her hand. She slid her hand up until it hooked around his neck. “I meant you. You’re here.”

  He laughed softly, encircling her with strong arms.

  “You left the show for me?”

  “In the thick of the season,” he confirmed.

  She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “We rolled into Decatur, Illinois, mid-June. I told Mr. Ringling then that I had no choice—I would be forced to trail after a bareback rider who’d left his employ. But I couldn’t desert him then. Not after we’d just lost Mable. It took some time, but we brought Owen and Jerry in to take over shared management. And when the train went west from Missoula, Ingénue and I caught our own train back east. And it brought us all the way here. To you.”

  Rosamund let a breath escape she hadn’t realized she held. “Then you left for good?”

  He chuckled, and she could picture him smiling. Just as he always had. She hoped his blue eyes were dancing, staring back at her.

  “Yes, Rose. If you wanted me to, I’d walk away from the life. In a heartbeat.”

  “But you’re circus, Colin. It’s in your blood.”

  He paused. She listened, turning her face into the breeze, wishing she could see his face to know why he’d stopped.

  “And you told me once that it’s in yours too.”

  “But this might never change. I could be blind the rest of my life,” Rosamund cried, raising her hands to his face, seeing only shades and shadow where his smile used to be. “I’ll never see you.”

  “You’ve always seen me, Rose. That’s the difference. I couldn’t accept a new watch for a new life unless you’re in it. And Mable knew that. Seeing isn’t always with the eyes, love. But we can do that together too. I’ll play for you like Hendrick once did. You can ride Ingénue and I’ll be at your side, performing with you in the ring. And I’ll describe everything, like it’s the Cà d’Zan we’re seeing all over again. We can even fish on every dock and dance in every tower in Florida if you want to.”

  “Mable would have expected nothing less. Somehow she knew I’d go out and perform too, didn’t she?”

  “I think she did,” Colin said, chuckling ever so slightly. “Mable Ringling was
a remarkable woman. Our friend. A blessing, I think, to see that both of us came back to one another.”

  “If you ever came back, I assumed it would be to say good-bye. I thought you’d only be able to see me as broken now.”

  “We’re all broken, Rose. You told me that once, remember? That’s the point,” he whispered, his lips grazing hers. “Everyone has scars. Some you can see, like the one on your wrist. Others, like a watch, remain hidden in the pockets of our past. But to heal? We can’t possibly do it on our own.”

  “I was never on my own. Not from that day I stepped onto the train at King’s Cross Station. And I was wrong. My home was never the circus. It wasn’t under the Big Top sky or turning circles in front of the crowds. I was on a circus train traveling from place to place, but my home has always been with you.”

  “Then why don’t you marry me?” He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Because my home is wherever you are too.”

  Rosamund stood on tiptoe, trusting her heart to connect her lips to his. She pressed in, feeling the strength of familiar arms come around her. Reveling in the presence of him once again in her life.

  “Is that a yes then?” he asked, the smile of a happy Irishman alive in his voice.

  “Aye. It’s a yes,” she teased, smiling back because he hadn’t needed to ask. “Mable said we only see what we want to see, and I want to spend the rest of my life looking at you.”

  EPILOGUE

  APRIL 28, 2002

  CÀ D’ZAN

  SARASOTA, FLORIDA

  Camden Keary-Smith never heard her name called over the microphone.

  A stage had been erected against the backdrop of the Cà d’Zan, with the crystal waters of the bay rolling beyond. She gazed out over the water, imagining what the yachts and the grand parties must have looked like in Mable Ringling’s day.

  Ruby nudged her shoulder. “Mom, it’s time.”

  “Hmm?”

  “They called your name . . .”

  Her attention was drawn back and she remembered at once why they were there.

  “Oh yes.” Camden fluttered her hands, almost dropping her program in her haste to stand. “Yes, of course.”

  Ruby braced her at the elbow, helping her to her feet.

  They took the steps slowly. Having waited for the moment for some time, she now wanted to savor it.

  A young lad stepped up, adjusting the microphone in front of her.

  She nodded in thanks, then looked out over the crowd for the first time. “I’ve never spoken in public before . . .”

  The young man hopped up again, tapped the microphone.

  “Right here, Mrs. Smith. Speak right here.”

  She exhaled, then smiled. “I’ve never spoken in public before,” she said, trying again.

  Her voice was loud this time. Crystal clear. Booming out from the speakers to mingle with the swaying palms and the roses in Mable’s garden.

  “But this is a very special occasion, and both my brother, Jack Keary, and I are delighted to be here for this historic day. The Cà d’Zan reopens today, after the greatest renovation in this property’s history. We gather here now, in its shadow, proud to stand as two of many who represent the rich history of this place.

  “Our parents, Colin and Rosamund Keary, traveled with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey circus for over four decades. They held roles as manager, bareback rider, musician, and in 1957, with the Big Top no longer in use for the shows, they spent their final working year as ticket takers at the venue doors. Our parents not only spent time at this property, but they loved the family who owned it, and credited Mable Ringling in particular with bestowing compassion and kindness on all who entered this home.

  “In the days when names such as May Wirth, Lou Jacobs, and Lillian Lietzel were known the world over, our father worked humbly behind the scenes, partnering with the Ringling Brothers to bring the circus to countless towns and cities all across the country. He retired in 1958, after faithfully serving for forty-six years.

  “Our mother, Lady Rosamund Easling-Keary, received her paid passage from the Ringling Brothers in 1926 and traveled from England to Sarasota, where she began a bareback riding career that spanned decades. After an accident sustained in the years following her circus debut, she was declared legally blind, and believed her circus days were over. But it was the belief my father had in her abilities and the extraordinary friendship they shared with John and Mable Ringling that she credited for the career she had in the years that followed.”

  Camden stopped, overcome with emotion.

  She turned, gazing at the Venetian palace that sparkled in the sun.

  There was restored whimsy in every corner. A playfulness that combined with the rich artistry of a piece of history one couldn’t read about in a book. It was so much more.

  She brought her attention back to the crowd, searching for young faces to talk to. Her eyes sought out families—the ones who would make this place live on.

  “I speak to you today, to the children of the next generation who will visit and truly cherish this place. Everything the Ringlings loved is here. They are here, and their story—waiting to be discovered anew. And so we leave you today with Mable’s words, because what we see is a choice, as is what we offer the world in return. And it’s only behind the costumes and the masks that we can be who we truly are. Embrace that today, and may we never be afraid to really live. Thank you.”

  Camden heard the applause as she walked back across the stage. But it didn’t feel as though it was for her. She turned a half circle before stepping down again, catching a final view of the glorious Cà d’Zan—the House of John—before the Ringlings welcomed the world again.

  CHRONOLOGY

  1866—John Nicholas Ringling born May 31, in McGregor, IA, to August Frederich Rungeling (Ringling) (b. 1826, m. 1852, d. 1898) and Salome Marie Juliar (Ringling) (b. 1833, m. 1852, d. 1907).

  1875—Armilda E. (Mable) Burton born March 14, in Moons, OH, to George Wesley Burton (b. 1848, m. 1869, d. 1919) and Mary Elizabeth Wilson (b. 1852, m. 1869, d. 1929).

  1882—Ringlings move family, including seven sons and one daughter, Ida Lorina Wilhemina Ringling (b. 1874, d. 1950), to Baraboo, WI.

  1882—Ringling brothers Albert Charles “Al” (b. 1852, d. 1916), August Albert “A.G.” (b. 1854, d. 1907), William Henry Otto “Otto” (b. 1857, d. 1911), Alfred Theodore “Alf T.” (b. 1863, d. 1919), Carl Edward “Charles” (b. 1864, d. 1926), John Nicholas (b. 1866, d. 1936), and Henry William George (b. 1868, d. 1918) organize first winter-season hall shows, performing in Wisconsin town halls.

  1884—Circus formed in partnership with Yankee Robinson. Billed as Yankee Robinson and Ringling Bros. Double Show.

  1885—Ringling Bros. established as sole proprietors.

  1890—Circus travel ceases by wagon, converts to rail.

  1893—World’s Columbian Exposition (Chicago World’s Fair) opens May 1, recognizing 400th anniversary of the New World’s discovery by Europeans, spanning 600 acres, with 200 newly built structures and culture displays from 46 countries. Draws world record with more than 27 million in attendance through closing day, October 30.

  1905—Mable Burton marries John Ringling December 29 in Hoboken, NJ.

  1907—Ringling Bros. purchase Barnum & Bailey Circus from Bailey family heirs.

  1918—John Ringling purchases summer home along Hudson River in Alpine, NJ.

  1919—Ringling Bros. merge circus proprietorships to debut Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Combined Shows March 29 in New York City.

  1923—Doge’s Palace opens as museum in Venice, Italy. John and Mable Ringling spend year touring Italy, finding inspiration to build their new winter home in Sarasota, FL. Society architect Dwight James Baum commissioned as architect for C�
� d’Zan (“House of John”).

  1924—Construction begins on 36,000-square-foot Cà d’Zan, winter home for John and Mable Ringling. Venetian-style mansion spans 20 acres of Sarasota Bay waterfront and includes $50K electric organ, 41 rooms and 15 bathrooms, waterfront dock with Venetian gondola, five-story belvedere tower (kept lit in evenings at Mable Ringling’s request), and roof with antique Spanish barrel tiles salvaged in Granada by John Ringling.

  1926—Cà d’Zan mansion completed at then-staggering cost of $1.5M. Charles “Mr. Charlie” Ringling dies December 3.

  1927—John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art established in Sarasota, FL. In January, circus winter quarters move from Bridgeport, CT, to Sarasota, FL.

  1929—Mable Burton Ringling dies, age 54, on June 8 in New York. John Ringling purchases American Circus Corporation, absorbing major circus shows Sells-Floto Circus, Al G. Barnes Circus, Sparks Circus, Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus, and John Robinson Circus at a cost of $1.7M.

  1930—John Ringling marries Emily Haag Buck December 19 in Jersey City, NJ.

  1932—John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art opens to public January 17 in Sarasota, FL. Circus partnership dissolves into corporation formed by Ringling creditors. John Ringling remains as president with no assigned duties.

  1936—John Ringling and Emily Buck divorce July 6.

  1936—John Ringling dies December 2 in New York City, with reported $311 in the bank. Estate is closed to public. Cà d’Zan, John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art, and estimated assets of $24M bequeathed to state of Florida. John Ringling North (nephew) and Ida Ringling North (sister) appointed estate executors.

  1946—Cà d’Zan reopens to public. John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art and Cà d’Zan mansion ownership transferred to state of Florida, with final settlement between the state and Ringling’s executors in 1947.

  1996—Cà d’Zan falls into disrepair, serving as setting for Miss Havisham’s dilapidated mansion in Hollywood remake of Dickens’s classic Great Expectations. $15M restoration and conservation project begins on Cà d’Zan mansion. Full restoration is completed in April 2002.