Mabel looked at Annis, surprise brightening her face. “Oh.” She let out a giggle. “Sorry. Let me start over,” she said, thoughtfully tapping her chin with her finger. “Goldilocks. What’s his tale then, Maude? You remember better than I do.”
Maude rolled her eyes and turned away, investing her interest back into preparing breakfast for her beloved elephants. “I’m not telling that story and you damn well know why,” she huffed. The back of her head nearly disappeared inside a large trunk, from which she emerged with multiple flakes of hay seconds later.
Mabel seemed temporarily dumbfounded, then a flash of recognition lit up her eyes. “Oh. Right. He’s here because of me.”
“You?” Annis asked, crinkling her nose. Keeping up with Mabel and her hopscotch way of thinking was something she would need more practice with before she’d be able to take it in stride the way Maude did. Maude always followed along, no matter how scattered or how unexpected a turn Mabel’s mind took. “How?”
She shrugged, bending at the waist to pick up a broom and a shovel that had fallen from their hooks during travel. “It’s all Harris’s fault, really. Have you met Harris?”
Annis shook her head, though she thought she’d heard the name before.
“Well, Harris—though, to be honest, I don’t believe that’s his real name either...It’s actually something strange and hard to pronounce. Hugh tried, but grew tired of it and started calling him ‘Harris’ instead. Not sure why. His real name starts with a P, best I can recall.” Annis was feeling dizzy from the story already and she’d only just learned a man’s name—or rather, what his name was not.
“In any event, he answers to Harris now, so that’s what we call him. Harris. Sometimes we call him Your Royal Highness, but that’s only when we’re being prats and want to have a laugh. Harris is a bit of royalty, see. Illegitimate child of some foreign king in some land I’ve never heard of. It’s why I question the entire story, to be honest. But he claims he’s a sort of prince even if they won’t claim him, and so we do. On occasion.”
“Good God,” her sister interrupted. “Would you get to point already? It’ll be halfway to lunch by the time you finish telling your tale and we haven’t even had a proper breakfast, let alone served one to the girls.” She thrusted the buckets she’d filled toward her sister. “Think we can at least walk and talk while you do carry on?”
“Certainly.” Mabel nodded, smiling brightly. “Now, where was I? Right. His Royal Harris. Anyway, the only entourage His Highness stumbled into our midst with was an odd assortment of monkeys.”
That’s when it clicked for Annis. She’d seen Harris perform last night. It was a sensational number featuring him and his monkeys swinging together from the ceiling, hanging onto everything from ropes to long drapes. Annis had held her breathe while they all jumped and spun about. Mabel seemed oblivious to Annis being briefly distracted by her own recollection. When Annis tuned back in, the story was still pushing onward at full-force.
“...Each of them cheekier than the next. Worst of all is Jacob. That’s right. There’s a monkey with the same name. Well, one night, as we’re breaking down and loading up, that sneaky little monkey runs off. Maude and I were the first to notice, being as our elephant car is right next to theirs, so I start shouting for Jacob to get his little arse into the car where he belongs. It was dark out, mind you. I couldn’t see much but for the stars above and the outline of trees on the horizon, so I just hollered orders out into the night until that little rebel came running back to climb onto Maude’s shoulder to be escorted back home.” She stopped, giving her sister a hand with the morning feeding at last. “Next morning, Goldilocks was sitting in Momma T’s tent, having breakfast with everyone else. Apparently, he’d been walking the tracks the night before, wandering across the country looking for work. When I’d demanded he get himself aboard the train, he’d been all too happy to oblige. Been with us ever since.” She tipped her head back and forth between both shoulders.
“But...” Annis was still catching up. “Why do they call him Goldilocks?”
Mabel laughed as though it were obvious. “Couldn’t very well call him Jacob, like the monkey.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Hasn’t been all bad. He’s a good worker. And he’s awfully pretty to look at, don’t you think?”
“Huh?” Annis wasn’t entirely sure what she thought of anything at that moment, let alone of the boy who couldn’t keep his perfectly sound name for the sake of not being confused with the monkey. “Oh. Yeah. He’s alright,” she agreed once she’d registered the question. “Not nearly as impressive as these two, though,” she said. Awe filled her from the base of her belly and gave way to overwhelm at the sight of Edi and Millie. Annis found them thrilling during their performance the night before. Standing there in the intimate setting of their small quarters while they peacefully crunched away at their morning meal was absolutely mesmerizing.
“They are quite splendid,” Maude agreed, running her hand tenderly up and down the side of Edi’s massive torso. “Who cares about pretty boys when you have elephants?” She smirked, eyes cast sideways at her sister.
“Never said I didn’t prefer the elephant,” Mabel muttered. “Merely trying to point out the silver lining to my inadvertent act of inviting a vagabond to join the circus.”
“Oh, well in that case, yes, he’s lovely,” Maude mused, clearly humoring her sister. “However, he may not be entirely to Annis’s tastes.”
“What?” Annis had only just mustered enough nerve to reach out and pat Edi’s trunk, but was already sweeping back her hand in a hurry, feeling caught in some act of mischief she hadn’t been aware she’d participated in.
“You know something I don’t? How is that always possible? I’m never away from you. We’re always in the same place, living through all the same experiences!” Mabel cried.
“It’s possible because you’re always talking and I’m always listening. And, more importantly,” Maude said, pausing to let her gaze drift toward Annis. She winked. “I’m always watching.”
“Go on, then,” Mabel urged. “Tell us what you saw.”
“Or don’t,” Annis offered, hoping she’d choose the latter.
Maude let out a laugh of sheer delight. Either because she knew it would torture her sister not knowing what she did or because it would torture Annis wondering whether or not she’d say what she knew. Not that Annis could say for sure what it was Maude thought she had seen, but she had an eerie sense it involved a certain someone who looked almost unbearably handsome riding a horse. And she was positive she wanted no word of it uttered out loud, ever.
A sly grin crept over Maude’s mouth. “Oh, alright. I’ll let you keep your secrets. But only because it’ll make Mabel crazier by not telling than it would do you to tell.” She then hooked an arm over Mabel’s shoulders and added, “But if the time comes around you want a certain someone to know, you just say the word and I’ll be sure to let Mabel here use her blow horn of a mouth the get the message out.”
“You’re a terrible sister. You know that, don’t you?” Mabel scowled, though it was hardly believable and Annis had to work harder than usual to suppress her laughter as she listened to their banter.
“I’m a splendid sister, Mabel. I see you for all your fabulous faults and I love you not despite them, but because of.”
Mabel turned her nose up, pouting. “Only because they make you look like the brilliant one.”
“And what’s not to love about that?” Maude said with a delighted laugh. Maybe it was some byproduct of their physical connection, unlikely though it did seem, but one never did appear to be able to laugh without the other no matter how set against it they might have been at the start. And so, it was no surprise to Annis or Maude when Mabel began cackling loudly right alongside her sister, even if the joke was entirely at her expense.
It took Hugh slipping his head in through the open doors to get them to calm down and get serious again.
“Will we be seeing the likes of you out here by daylight at all today? Or are you planning to wait until after sunset when all the work is complete?” he asked, not trying too hard to conceal his own amusement at the sight of them giggling away beside the elephants, who, in their own way, seemed pleased to be provided with entertainment over breakfast.
“Is that a possibility?” Maude inquired, hiccupping.
“Not in the slightest.” Hugh chuckled, shaking his head until his gaze landed on Annis. “My apologies, Annis. I’ve left you in the hands of the worst sort of influence around here. Please, allow me to rectify my mistake,” he teased the twins even as he kept his eyes on Annis.
“Good luck,” Maude chirped mockingly as Hugh began to lead Annis from the elephant cart.
Mabel snorted. “Being a good influence isn’t exactly a desirable trait around these parts.”
“Maybe you should pair her up with Sequoyah,” Annis heard Maude holler after them. Her cheeks burned red just at the mention of his name. Thankfully, Hugh seemed to be oblivious to her blushing.
Chapter Seven
SEQUOYAH
“Indeed. Sequoyah’s not a bad suggestion,” Hugh said. “He does tend to be less prone to leading the shenanigans, though he’s never much for putting up a fight where joining them is concerned.” Hugh held out his arm, gesturing for Annis to take the lead as they began to funnel their way through the unfolding chaos of setting up the tent.
“What about Caroline?” Annis asked, eager to move his point of interest to someone else. Anyone other than Sequoyah, really, she thought. “I spent some time with her this morning. She was just lovely. Very helpful and informative.” Indeed, Caroline had shared a great deal of lessons with Annis where barely-there costumes were concerned, along with the art of keeping all the essentials covered up even when in the most compromising positions. These were lessons Annis hoped never to have to use, but which she found potentially valuable nonetheless.
“Absolutely not,” Hugh replied, aghast at her suggestion. “I can’t count the times she’s been right there at the forefront of some insane act she and Homer cooked up together. I let you go with Caroline and she’ll have you spinning from the ceiling upside down, holding you by your toes while she dangles from a rope and her crazy husband goes about tossing flaming daggers around your pretty little head.”
“Be quite the number though, wouldn’t it?” Annis quipped, entertained and probably not nearly terrified enough at the thought.
Hugh’s brow furrowed. “I see what Sawyer meant now about your shell cracking. You going to be one of the reckless ones then, love?”
Annis thought it over as they walked before she answered. “Not reckless. Fearless.”
“There’s a difference then?” he asked, the rigid lines of his stern expression already melting into curiosity.
“Reckless implies I’ll be careless. Stupid, even, with myself or others. Running blindly off the edge and paying no mind to the consequences. Fearless just means I’ll be willing to leap even if the drop is steep, because I’ve already survived falling and I’m willing to risk it again for my chance to fly. One is calculated risk. The other is not. I’d say they’re very different, wouldn’t you?” She glanced up the side of Hugh’s long body, trying to make out his face, but the sun shone on it just so as to obscure his expression.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” he muttered, but his arms swung freely as he walked. Annis had learned the day before this swinging motion was a good sign where Hugh’s mood was concerned.
“So, Caroline?” she tried a second time.
“No. Not today. And if you ask me that again, I’m going to start to question your reckless versus fearless argument.” He turned abruptly, cutting through the animal tent that was already set up and accommodating a variety of furry, four-legged creatures including everything from lions to monkeys. “I’m still sticking you with Sequoyah. Won’t be permanent though, so don’t get too settled in. I think we best have you bounce around a bit, see what truly sparks your interest. Find where you fit best before we start setting long-term goals where your act in this circus is concerned.”
“You’re the boss,” Annis said, and then sighed.
“You’re not still on about not having an act, are ya?” he asked, pausing mid-step to look at her.
Actually, Annis hadn’t been concerned about that since she’d seen last night’s performances. If Sawyer could command a lion to behave as though it were an innocent house cat, surely there was something hidden in her that was just as unexpected as seeing a two-foot-tall man as the leader among a pride of lions. Her stray sigh was an expression of her displeasure about having to spend the day with a man she’d promised herself, several times over the course of her particularly early morning, she’d stay very far away from—for his safety as much as for her own. But she could hardly admit this to Hugh.
In lieu of telling an outright lie, she shrugged and said, “It’s not that. Just feeling a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.” This was mostly true. These uninvited feelings she was having for Sequoyah were certainly overwhelming.
“You’ll do real well with Sequoyah, then, love,” he said, resuming his march. “Between these high-strung horses and Babe’s worrying, he’s had plenty of practice keeping everyone’s hysterics to a manageable level.” This time, in the shade of the canvas, Annis could see Hugh’s grin clear as day.
“I think I’d like to take offense to that,” she mumbled dryly.
“But?”
“But that hardly seems appropriate when it’s so spot on.”
Hugh laughed, slowly coming to a stop. They’d arrived at a temporary horse corral. At first, Sequoyah was nowhere to be seen. Annis allowed herself a tiny exhale of momentary relief, and then nearly choked on it when two of the paints parted just beyond the makeshift fence to reveal Sequoyah standing right in front of her, looking as beautiful as ever.
Hugh gave her a good slap between the shoulder blades to unblock her airway. “It’s the dust,” he said. “Happens to me all the time.”
If only dust were the source of her troubles. “Uh-huh.” She cleared her throat before gulping down the remnants of a cough and forced herself to meet Sequoyah’s gaze. As soon as she did, she had to fight the urge to look away. The way his dark eyes bored into her made her want to scream from their intensity. She knew instantly the insanity of her believing she could hide herself from him. No one had ever looked at her and seen her more thoroughly than he was doing at that moment.
“Hey, Poppy,” Sequoyah said as he greeted his father, though his eyes stayed locked on Annis. “Making the rounds already? That mean Momma T’s started serving breakfast?”
“Last I checked she was still searching for her favorite griddle. No hotcakes until she finds it.” Hugh shook his head. “And, truthfully, I have a bad feeling the pan she’s looking for was used on some very unsavory monkey business and got left behind back in Missouri.”
Annis was tempted to ask if he meant monkey business in a literal sense but then decided it was best not to find out. Sequoyah seemed to know exactly what sort of monkey business Hugh meant and, judging by the way he pulled his face into a long grimace, he wasn’t eager to revisit the memory.
“Not sure I want breakfast now,” he said dryly. “Thanks for that.”
“Oh, you’re about to thank me double,” Hugh said, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “I’ve brought you a present. Or, a loaner, really. Annis is yours for the day. Teach her something, would you?”
Sequoyah smirked, resting both forearms over the top board of the corral, his wrists crossed, hands hanging lazily out in front of him. “I’m sure she’s learned plenty from hanging around the twins.”
Hugh shook his head, slowly turning away to carry on with his duties as ringmaster and father figure to all. “Teach her something else. Something she can take pride in knowing,” he called over this shoulder.
“Well, that narrows it down quite a bit.” Sequoya
h let out a quiet laugh, tipping his head slightly to the left where Annis stood in front of him, still separated by the wooden slats of the corral. “How about we start with finding out what you already know?”
Annis, tongue-tied, gave a helpless shrug, crossing her arms over her chest as though they could somehow shield her from his curiosities. Sequoyah crinkled his forehead and his eyes narrowed, their spark ever-present. “You don’t know what you already know? I’m going to be honest with you, Annis. That’s not very promising.” She let out a snort that surprised them both, her arms falling loose at her sides again as she did.
“No, I suppose it’s not.” She was well aware the amusement dancing over his face was at her expense, but she could hardly take offense when he smiled at her. He stood up taller, pulling his arms back from the wood until only his hands caught on it, fingers wrapping around the front of it. “Maybe it’s best if you just follow along with me for a bit, watch how we work around here, see if it triggers anything. Hopefully you’ll remember some of the things you already know you don’t currently know you know. You know?”
Annis grinned, nervously shifting from one foot to other, pacing in place. “I think I do.”
He gestured for her to join him in the corral, and Annis found a renewed appreciation for the trousers Babe had dressed her in the day before. Climbing fences was a cinch when she wasn’t wearing a skirt.
As soon as her boots hit the ground again, Sequoyah began moving. He weaved through the herd as though the path he traveled already existed. Annis watched in awe, hesitant to follow.
“I thought we agreed you would be coming along?” he asked, looking over his shoulder for her.
“They...they won’t mind?” While striking to look at, the horses also intimidated her, especially now that she was standing so close and right in the middle of their terrain.
Sequoyah’s expression seemed to settle on a permanent perplexity whenever he looked at her. “Are you planning to throw rocks at them?”
The Wild in her Eyes Page 8
