“I’ve never seen a horse that August couldn’t handle,” Lizzy declared. The thought of August being killed by horses didn’t make sense to her.
“He was talented,” Mr. Spiby said, joining them. “I even offered to hire him away from you, although I’m ashamed to admit it now.” He smiled, then gave his mustache a stroke with his index finger. “But accidents happen, and no one is immune to danger.”
“That’s true enough,” Mother said, clinging to Lizzy’s arm. “I appreciate that you’ve cared for him so completely.” She turned to Lizzy. “Make sure Uncle Oliver pays them for the coffin and . . . anything else.”
“Nonsense, Mrs. Brookstone,” Fleming declared, raising his gaze. “It was my privilege to do this for the young man. I won’t accept money, given the accident happened on my farm.”
“Well, thank you so much for your kindness.” Mother’s words caught in her throat. “He . . . he was such a good man.”
“Come on, Mother,” Lizzy encouraged. “Let’s go inside. We can’t do anything more here.”
“She’s right,” Jefferson Spiby said with a great deal of smugness. “You ladies shouldn’t have to bother with such matters. You just leave it to us, and we’ll see to everything.”
Lizzy wanted to say something—anything—to show Spiby what she thought of his attitude, but she held her tongue. Leading Mother inside, a dozen questions raced through her head. Green broke colts were dangerous, that much was certain, but so too was it certain that August Reichert knew this and would have handled them carefully. Besides, what was he even doing with them? He was there to manage the new mares and the Brookstone stock. Why would he have been handling Fleming’s colts?
“I can’t believe the sorrows we’ve had on this tour,” Mother said, sinking into the sofa.
Lizzy leaned against the wall. Her mother looked so fragile. There were lines in her face that hadn’t been there this time last year. “Mother, I don’t mean to add to our troubles, but there is something I need to tell you. I hope you’ll understand.”
“What is it?”
Lizzy knelt beside her. “You can’t say anything to anyone about this.”
“Is there anything I can do for you ladies?” Jason Adler asked from the doorway.
“No.” Lizzy huffed and went to the door, blocking his entry. “We just need some privacy for the moment.”
Jason looked apologetic and shook his head. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
Lizzy immediately regretted her harsh tone. “No, I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s just a lot to take in.”
“I completely understand. If you have no need of my services, I’ll go see how I might help your uncle. I believe we’re arranging for the funeral home to manage the body and ship it back to his family.”
Lizzy thought of Mary Reichert. She was August’s sister and until this year had been Brookstone’s sharpshooter. She would be devastated. She had quit the show in order to marry her childhood sweetheart, and their wedding was in less than a month. August’s death would probably postpone it.
“Thank you for your help, Jason, but we’ll be just fine.” Lizzy waited until he’d gone, then closed the door.
“What’s going on?” Mother asked, eyeing Lizzy suspiciously. “What do you need to tell me?”
Lizzy sat down beside her mother. “Ella Fleming has run away from home. She’s hiding in the spare room.” She pointed toward the tiny cabin.
“But why?”
“You saw Jefferson Spiby and the way he acted. He’s even worse when no one is around. Ella is being forced to marry him—some sort of financial arrangement. She’s begged her father to release her from the agreement, but he won’t hear of it. He plans for them to marry at Christmas, because Ella turns twenty-one in January and can speak for herself then.”
“But interfering in a family matter isn’t wise, Lizzy.”
Lizzy looked at her mother’s weary expression. Perhaps she should have waited to tell her. No doubt the news about August was only serving to bring back the pain of losing Father.
“I know it’s not, Mother, but I felt strongly about this. I believe God would have us help her. She was in danger—I can’t say exactly what might happen to her if she marries Mr. Spiby, but she’s terrified. She planned to do whatever she had to in order to avoid marrying him.”
“But where will she go now?”
“Eventually she wants to go to Chicago to live with her sister. But for now, I thought she could stay with us. We’ll keep her hidden until it’s time to take everyone back to Montana. I figure she can stay in our car, and I can bring her what she needs. We’ll just have to keep everyone else out of here. At least until after our show in Kansas City.”
Mother glanced at the door to the small sleeping room. “Very well. Since you feel so strongly about this, I’ll trust that it is the right thing to do. I’ve never known you to act in a rash manner. Should I go speak with her?”
Lizzy smiled. “That might reassure her.”
Mother nodded and got to her feet. “Does she know about August’s death or her father being here?”
“I don’t think so. She knew something was going on at the farm, which was why she set out by herself to get here. I’m sure she’ll be very sorry to hear about August.”
eight
The St. Louis showground was packed to overflowing, as most of the Brookstone performances were. Lizzy led Longfellow through his paces as usual. The crowd was completely aghast at her maneuvers aback a galloping horse. Several women in the audience fainted, which wasn’t unusual. It happened with such regularity during their tour that Uncle Oliver always gave a warning before the show. It only served to further excite the audience.
It seemed silly that anyone should faint doing nothing more than watching. It was different if they were asked to participate in the show. She remembered once last year when Mary Reichert was still shooting for the show. She had asked for a volunteer, and a giant, burly fellow quickly accepted. He came to the arena floor, and Mary made him stand with an apple on his head. She aimed her rifle and put a bullet straight through the center of the apple. The crowds went wild, and the man passed out. Lizzy could understand why the stress of that situation might cause someone to faint, although the man quickly recovered and promptly asked Mary to marry him. She declined.
Lizzy brought Longfellow to the far end of the arena, quickly adjusted some straps on her saddle, then put him back into a full gallop. With Longfellow in motion, Lizzy did a rump spin and then a backward somersault onto the horse’s neck. In one fluid motion, she whirled back around, slipped her feet into the straps, and stood. The audience went wild with applause and cheers.
Longfellow reached the end of the run, and Lizzy slid back into the saddle and maneuvered the horse back to their starting position. She slipped her right foot through the drag loop and gave the gelding a couple of pats on the neck. There was just one more trick, perhaps the deadliest. She urged Longfellow forward while giving the crowd a wave. Without pausing, she appeared to fall backward and slip over the left side of the horse, bringing her left leg straight up in the air as she did. With her right foot securely anchored in the strap’s hold, she raised her hands over her head to complete what some called a Cossack drag. It all happened at once, so the audience couldn’t be sure that it was intended. There were gasps, more fainting no doubt, and then silence as Lizzy rode upside down, her head hanging right beside Longfellow’s front legs.
With her long hair nearly dragging the dirt, Lizzy gave a wave, and the crowd jumped to their feet in raucous applause. She smiled to herself, caught the horn, and pulled back up onto Longfellow’s neck. She freed her foot and did a simple saddle spin, ending in a shoulder stand.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Uncle Oliver called out from behind his megaphone. “Let’s hear it for Elizabeth Brookstone and her valiant steed, Longfellow!” The crowds went wild.
Lizzy righted herself and led Longfellow out of sight of the audience. She po
sitioned her feet for the final stand and flag wave. There had been a couple of minor accidents with earlier performances, but overall the show had gone very well. She breathed a sigh of relief, remembering this was the next to last show of the season.
The other performers were taking their final bows. The sharpshooting girls raced around the arena on horseback, shooting their guns in the air to further stir up the audience. As if they needed any encouragement.
Next, the girls who did Roman riding circled the arena side by side. Each of the three girls had two horses apiece and stood astride their team. After they made one full circle, they joined two teams together, and the two performers stood astride the center horses, one in front of the other. For their final move, the third team joined them, and while one of the girls managed all six horses, the other two climbed onto either side of her. With a firm grip on a harness that ran under her jacket, each of the side performers stuck out their free arm and leg to create a star pattern. The cheers were deafening.
Brookstone’s other trick riders preceded Lizzy into the arena, doing vaults and twists as they circled and waved to the audience. Finally, Lizzy rode out standing and waving the American flag. The small band provided by the arena broke into “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and everyone began to sing. It was the perfect end to the evening.
Lizzy rode her horse from the arena. Zeb took the flag and offered them both praise while Lizzy slid off the buckskin.
“Longfellow, you were amazing! Such a good boy.” She gave him a hug. “You’re all done for the year.”
Rupert took the reins from her. “They loved you tonight.”
Lizzy laughed. “Indeed they did.” She gave the horse one more rub of affection. “I’ll use Thoreau for the last show,” she told Rupert. “Longfellow’s earned his rest, although I know he won’t see it that way.” She made her way over to the costume seamstress. “I managed to tear my blouse, Agnes.” She pointed out the ripped shoulder seam.
“No problem, dearie. I’ll have the girls pick it up for washing and then mend it on our way to Kansas City. It’ll be ready for the performance.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
Lizzy made the rounds, thanking everyone for helping with the show. It was something her father used to do, and Lizzy didn’t even think about what she was doing until she was halfway through the performers and crew. It felt right to offer the others praise. Her father had always been so encouraging, and Lizzy knew it had always blessed everyone.
“You did a mighty fine job out there, Miss Lizzy,” Thomas, the oldest of their wranglers, told her.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Thomas. No one person is responsible for our success, as you well know. You boys are the very heart of this show.”
The old man beamed with pride, just as Lizzy knew he would.
“Praising someone for a job well done costs you nothing, Lizzy, but the returns are tremendous. People need to know they’re appreciated,” Father had often told her.
Oh, Father, why did you have to leave us?
Exhausted, Lizzy made her way to the bright red Brookstone train. The men would soon be loading the animals for the next leg of the trip. Mother and Agnes would see to all the other girls, and with them busy, Lizzy wanted to check on Ella before going to Uncle Oliver’s office to count the ticket sales.
“Did everything go all right?” Ella asked when Lizzy opened her door.
“It went very well, although I ripped my blouse.”
“I’m a good seamstress,” Ella said, perking up. “I could repair it for you.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already mentioned it to Agnes. She handles all the costumes.” Lizzy began unbuttoning her blouse. “I have to change my clothes and then do some bookwork. I’ll be back soon. Mother or I will bring you something to eat, however. We always have a snack—well, it’s more like a full meal—after the show.”
Ella smiled. “I really appreciate all the help you and your mother have given me. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’ve been afraid, but you’ve both been so kind. I’m especially blessed by the way your mother prays with me.”
Lizzy felt a momentary sense of guilt for not having done the same. Sometimes prayer just skipped her mind.
“I’m just glad we’ve seen nothing of your father or fiancé. It seems he hasn’t considered you might have come with us. Especially given he saw the train off.”
“I’m praying it won’t even occur to him. Hopefully, he’ll just think I’ve gone to Margaret’s. She knows nothing about what I’ve done, so even if he goes to her, she can’t tell him a thing.”
Lizzy considered the future for a moment. “After the last show in Kansas City, we’ll dismiss the performers and head home for a brief break. I think you should stay with us. Our ranch house is large, and you could stay there until you think it’s safe to go to your sister.”
“When is the performance?” Ella asked.
“Three days from today.” Lizzy shook her head, and her brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’m anxious to be far from my home. There’s still a chance it might occur to Father that I snuck off with the show. I won’t rest until we’re a long way away.”
“Your concerns are exactly why I want you to come home with us.”
“I’d hate to put your family in any more danger than I already have. I doubt Father would ever go all that way to find me, but he might hire someone.” Ella bit her lower lip.
Lizzy patted her arm. “It’ll be all right. If he comes to Montana, he’ll be on Brookstone land—with Brookstone people. They won’t allow him to take you.”
Ella looked up, her face betraying her anxiety. “What if he comes to Kansas City?”
“Well, we’ve managed to keep you hidden from everyone else. No one in the show knows about you except Rupert and Mother. I would trust either of them with my life and know they’ll keep your secret. We’ll be just fine. You’ll see.”
Lizzy left her and quickly changed out of her performance clothes and into a simple wool skirt of brown plaid paired with an old white blouse. She combed through her long brown hair and knotted it into a bun at the back of her neck before making her way to the entertaining car, where Agnes’s sewing room was at one end and Uncle Oliver’s office at the other.
Mother was adding finishing touches to a buffet of treats. She smiled when Lizzy came into the car. “You did such an amazing job tonight. I tell you, I still feel my heart skip a beat when you go into that death drag.”
Lizzy crossed the room and kissed her mother’s cheek before snagging a couple of cookies from the platter she held. “I learned from the best.”
Mother nodded. “Your father made it look so easy. Oh, how I miss him.” Her eyes dampened.
“I do too. Especially after the shows.” Lizzy pushed aside her grief, just as she had every day since her father’s passing. “I’m going into the office to work on the receipts.”
“Jason’s already hard at it. Uncle Oliver sent him to get started.”
Lizzy frowned. “He’s letting him handle the money?”
“I suppose he feels Jason is trustworthy. He does have an interest in seeing the show succeed,” Mother reminded her.
Sighing, Lizzy grabbed another cookie, then headed for the office. If Jason was going to be in charge of the books, then she wasn’t going to stick around.
“Mother told me you were managing the show receipts,” Lizzy said, looking in on Jason, who sat at her uncle’s desk.
“Come in,” Jason said, jumping to his feet. “Two sets of eyes are always better than one. I’ve started counting the coins. I’ve put them in stacks of ten dollars. Why don’t you double-check them?”
Lizzy took a seat despite wanting to turn around and leave. “Very well.” She started on the stack of nickels nearest her.
“I saw part of your act tonight. I was completely terrified for you.” He grinned.
She couldn’t help laughing. “You needn’t be.
It’s all controlled chaos. My father was good at using each act for maximum effect.”
“Yes, he was, but it’s your talent and skill that makes the show. That’s why we can’t lose you. You have to see that they come to watch you.”
“They come for the show in full. I’m only one small part of it. I don’t make an entire show by myself.”
“Perhaps not, but you are the star performer. I’ve been reading through the mail. Most of the letters are for you.” He lowered his voice. “There were at least three dozen proposals of marriage in the last batch alone.”
“Yes, I get that a lot,” Lizzy admitted. She finished with the first stack of nickels and moved to the second. “I have no idea why a man would propose to a total stranger. He has no idea who I am or what I want out of life.”
“It would be nice to know those things,” Jason said. He looked up from the table and met Lizzy’s gaze. He smiled.
She had to admit he was a handsome man. His eyes were the color of sapphires and seemed to sparkle as much as the gems themselves. His face reminded her of chiseled marble sculptures she’d seen in museums.
“I would very much like to know who you are and what you want out of life,” he said.
Lizzy grew uncomfortable. “I can’t give you those answers, Mr. Adler.”
“Can’t or won’t?” His smile never wavered.
“I can’t.” She shifted and pushed the stack of nickels aside. “I don’t know the answer myself.”
“It might be fun to explore the answers together,” he said, jotting down some figures.
“Why are you here?” She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but now that the question was out, she was glad she’d asked it.
Jason leaned back in his chair. “Because I’m thirty years old and need to decide what I want for my future.”
Lizzy shook her head. “And you plan to do that working around a wild west show?”
He shrugged and picked up a stack of dollar bills. “I had to start somewhere, and this pleased my father. I’ve been working for him in some capacity since I graduated from university. He’s allowed me to take part in any and all of his businesses to see if something strikes my fancy.” He put the money back down and leaned forward. “Now that I’ve answered your question, perhaps you’d be so good as to answer one of mine.”
When You Are Near Page 8
