White Horses

by Joan Wolf

  As they were speaking, they had passed wagons filled with produce and another wagon selling ice. Now they came abreast of a farm wagon with a man and a child on the front seat. “Look, Papa,” the little boy called. “It’s the circus lady!”

  He started to wave frantically and Gabrielle smiled and waved back. “I hope we see you tomorrow,” she called.

  “Surely will,” the farmer called back. “The lad’s been talking of nothing else since he saw your poster.”

  “Wonderful.” Gabrielle blew them a kiss.

  “Was that necessary?” The words were out of Leo’s mouth before he had a chance to think about their wisdom.

  Gabrielle gave him a surprised look. “Was what necessary?”

  Stupid, Leo thought. She’s a circus performer, not a lady. She drums up business however she can.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “I spoke out of turn. I imagine you get a lot of children at your performances.”

  “We get people of all ages, from the very young to die very old. Luc, do you remember that woman last year who celebrated her eightieth birthday at one of our performances? It was amazing,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “Eighty years old and she was sitting on a bench watching our show! Isn’t that marvelous?”

  Leo couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

  They had reached the town limits of Amiens and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a stone building with a sign outside reading Hotel de Champs.

  “Here we are,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “It’s not fancy but it’s clean and the beds are good.”

  Leo turned to Gabrielle to help her down, but all he saw of her was her back. A second later she had jumped to the ground unassisted.

  She turned to look back at him. “Can you hand me my bag, Leo?” she asked.

  He picked up the canvas bag that contained her clothes and handed it down to her. She continued to surprise him, he thought. Certainly she was nothing like any woman he’d ever known.

  “Give me yours, too,” she said.

  He shook his head. “It’s too heavy, I’ll lift it down.” He jumped to the ground himself and lifted down his leather portmanteau.

  “The landlady will have supper for us,” Gabrielle told him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  Leo looked down into her delicately lovely face. She looked as if she existed on champagne and strawberries. “Food sounds good,” he said.

  They all trooped inside the old hotel and settled around three tables in a large, shabby-looking dining room. Leo looked at the landscapes that hung on the wall. They were terrible.

  A short, portly woman in a blue apron came bustling into the room. “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Robichon,” she said. “It is good to see you again.”

  “Bon soir, Madame Gare,” Gabrielle responded. “It is good to be here. What do you have to feed us with tonight?”

  “Lamb stew,” the landlady replied.

  “Wonderful,” Gabrielle said.

  “I will serve it immediately,” the woman said, and bustled out of the room.

  “I thought you were Madame Rieux,” Leo said to Gabrielle. “Have you kept your own name for the circus?”

  “Yes. Robichon is a well-known name in the areas we travel. Even when Andre was alive I was Mademoiselle Robichon in the circus.”

  “Gabrielle is famous,” Albert said with pride. “Papa always said that of all the horsemen he had trained, she was the best.”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “That is quite a compliment.”

  Gabrielle smiled modestly. “My father was prejudiced,” she said.

  “That’s not true,” Mathieu put in. “She has my father’s touch.”

  Leo remembered Gabrielle had said that also. “What do you mean by ‘touch’?” he asked curiously.

  “She knows what a horse is thinking,” Mathieu said.

  “Horses can’t really think,” Leo scoffed.

  “Perhaps not, but they feel,” she insisted, “and they communicate what they are feeling through the reins. Unfortunately, few riders care to listen.”

  Something about Gabrielle’s words and the certainty in her voice silenced Leo’s argument. He thought about her theory as he ate his lamb stew, confounded again by her unusual ways.

  The conversation at the table had gone on without him, and when he turned his attention back they were talking about the brutal conscription that was going on in France.

  “A soldier came to the farm over the winter,” Mathieu was saying. “Albert and I had to hide in the hayloft so he wouldn’t find us.”

  “We had a scare, too,” Carlotta said. “Henri and Franz had to bribe the conscripting officer to get off.”

  “Yes, it cost me a bundle,” Henri said. “The peasants don’t have the cash to hand over, though. Poor bastards. They’re pushed into the army and they don’t know the first thing about military matters.”

  “Napoleon lost a huge number of men in Russia,” Leo said neutrally.

  “Yes, and the rest of the army is tied up in Spain by the English,” Henri said. “It’s time Napoleon made a deal with the Allies and agreed to give back all his conquered territory and rule within the boundaries of France.”

  “Do you think he would be content with that?” Leo asked curiously.

  “No,” answered Emma flatly. “That man will never give up his territories. The Allies will have to beat him on the battlefield. He will never give up voluntarily.”

  “Unfortunately, I think Emma is right,” Franz said.

  “Do you think that France would be content for Napoleon to rule it?” Leo asked.

  “If he ruled in peace, yes,” said Henri.

  “After all, what’s the alternative?” Carlotta asked. “The return of the king? Did we go through all that we have gone through just to see the Bourbons back on the throne again?”

  “I hope not!” Henri said.

  Gabrielle spoke up. “If the king ruled with a parliament, like in England, that would be all right, Henri.”

  “Perhaps,” Henri said grudgingly. “But the history of the Bourbons doesn’t suggest that they would be willing to do that.”

  “I think the Revolution changed things in France forever,” Gabrielle said gravely. “No king will ever again have the power of Louis XVI.”

  “Napoleon has that kind of power,” Henri pointed out.

  “Napoleon is on his last legs,” Gabrielle insisted. “The English are beating him in the Iberian Peninsula, and if he is going to march against Germany again, it will be with an army of raw recruits. I think we are in the days of a dying regime.”

  “I think so, too,” said Franz soberly.

  Leo was careful not to contribute much in case he inadvertently gave away clues to his real identity. He looked down now at his empty plate. Madame Gare came out of the kitchen. “How are we doing, eh? Finished? I have apple tart for dessert.”

  Gabrielle jumped up. “I’ll help you clear, Madame Gare.”

  “Such a good girl,” the landlady beamed.

  Emma also got up and quietly went to the next table and began to collect plates. The two other women in the company, Carlotta and Jeanne Maheu, a band member, remained in their seats.

  After dessert was finished, Gabrielle went into the kitchen and came out carrying a large bag. “Supper for Cesar and Jean,” she said to Leo, referring to the two grooms who stayed behind to guard the horses. “I’ll take it out to them tonight. It’s the first night on the road for the horses and I want to make sure everything is all right.”

  Leo said, “Will they remain with the horses all night?”

  “Yes,” Gabrielle said. “Cesar has his two Alsatian dogs with him. They will sound an alarm if anyone tries to get near the horses.”

  “Are Cesar and Jean armed?” Leo asked.

  “Yes,” Gabrielle replied.

  Leo nodded his approval.

  “Shall I go with you, Gabrielle?” Luc asked.

  Leo gave the equestrian a long, hard stare. “I
will accompany my wife,” he said. My wife. The words sounded so strange rolling off his lips.

  Gabrielle patted Luc on his sleeve. “Thank you, anyway, Luc.”

  Luc’s handsome face looked grim.

  “Come along, Leo,” Gabrielle said, and without even glancing at him, she began to walk toward the door leaving him, along with her dog, to follow.

  This has got to stop, Leo thought. I am not her servant! He wondered if she had treated Andre this way. I pity the poor bastard if she did.

  Leo drove out to the field while Gabrielle held the food on her lap. Colette lay sprawled across her feet for the twenty-minute drive. Leo was silent and Gabrielle made no attempt to engage him in conversation. When they arrived they were greeted by two large black Alsatian dogs, which barked excitedly.

  “Yes, yes,” Gabrielle soothed them. “I am bringing your dinner, too.”

  Cesar approached them.

  “Is everything quiet?” Gabrielle asked.

  “Yes. The horses are all tired from the day’s journey. No one has acted up.”

  “Good. I have lamb stew for you and Jean and the dogs.”

  “Wonderful. We’re all hungry.”

  The two men had put out benches and Gabrielle began to set out their meal on one of them. They sat on the other and started eating. Gabrielle then went to the wagon and returned with two large dishes into which she poured the remainder of the lamb stew. The two Alsatians began to eat hungrily.

  Colette stood and watched them, her ears pricked.

  “Don’t look like that—you just ate, you piggy,” Gabrielle said affectionately.

  Colette ignored her; she continued to watch the other dogs eat.

  “Let’s go look at the horses,” Gabrielle said to Leo, and they walked the twenty feet that divided them from the corral.

  Inside, the Lipizzaners, the Arabians, Coco and four of Gabrielle’s carriage horses were eating quietly from their separate piles of hay. It was a mild, pleasant evening. Leo found himself very curious about Gabrielle’s work. “What do you do when it’s raining?” he asked. “Do they stay out in the rain?”

  “I put them in the stable tent when the weather is inclement.”

  “And do you make a profit with this circus?”

  “Papa did. I hope I can do the same.”

  “Is this your first season running the show?”

  “I finished up the last weeks last year. This will be my first whole season.” Leo thought she sounded a bit less assured than usual.

  As they were speaking, one of the horses left his pile of hay, went over to another of the horses, nudged him out of the way and began to eat his hay.

  “Jacques, don’t be a bully,” Gabrielle called.

  The other horse stood looking sadly at his hay being devoured by Jacques. Gabrielle ducked through the ropes and went up to him. “ Come along, Tonton,” she said, and led him over to the pile of hay that Jacques had deserted. The horse lowered his head and promptly carted to eat. Gabrielle came back to stand beside Leo.

  “Poor Tonton,” she said. “He is low man in the pecking order and I worry about him getting enough to eat.”

  “He looks fat enough,” Leo said.

  “That’s because he was fed in his stall all winter.”

  As they watched, Jacques deserted Tonton’s pile of hay and went over to reclaim his own. Once again Tonton »as without food.

  “Mon Dieu,” Gabrielle said. “My poor Tonton.” She went back to the wagon, and when she returned she was carrying a lead rope. “The corral opens over here,” she said to Leo, pointing. “Hold it for me, and I’ll bring Tonton out. He can eat out here with us.”

  She took down the rope and went in after the large bay horse. Leo watched, amused, as she led him out, handed him to Leo to hold and went back for Jacques’s pile of hay. She brought the hay outside of the corral, dumped it on the ground and went to take Tonton’s lead. She held the lead and Tonton lowered his head and began to eat.

  “I’ll have to tell Jean and Cesar to leave Tonton in the stall tent where the horses are tied. We did it last year—they must have forgot.”

  “You take good care of your horses,” Leo said approvingly.

  “They deserve good care,” she returned. “They are the heart and soul of our show.”

  They stood quietly, side by side in the darkening light, as Tonton munched away on his hay. Leo suddenly found himself acutely aware of her presence. All of his nerve endings seemed to be attuned to her, and he scowled, not liking the feeling at all.

  Gabrielle broke the silence and called to the grooms. “I am going to tie Tonton to the corral. Make sure you put him back inside when he has finished his hay.”

  Cesar came over to them. “I forgot about Tonton. Is Jacques still stealing his food?”

  “Yes.” Gabrielle was busy tying a knot in Tonton’s lead rope.

  Then she turned to Leo. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

  They walked back to their wagon, and as Gabrielle put her foot on the step to climb up, Leo put his hands around her slim waist and lifted her. She was light and buoyant as he swung her up to the seat.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said from her place above him. Her voice sounded a little breathless.

  “A husband helps his wife,” he returned as he went around to the other side of the wagon.

  “Nevertheless, I can get into the wagon by myself.”

  He climbed into the seat beside her. “If we want to present the picture of a happily married couple, you are going to have to be less independent,” he told her sternly. “I’m not the sort of man to stand by and let his wife climb into a wagon by herself.”

  With this, he pulled the reins from her hands and started the horses on their trip back to the hotel.

  Eight

  It was dark by the time Leo and Gabrielle got back to the hotel. Leo parked the wagon in the stable yard next to the other one. No groom appeared to unharness the horses, so he did it himself. Then he and Gabrielle put the horses into their stalls and returned to the stable yard.

  Leo looked at the two wagons and said, “I’m wondering if I should plan to sleep on Colette’s sofa. I don’t like leaving the wagons unguarded for the night.”

  Gabrielle shook her head decisively. “Your job is to do everything you can to fit into this circus. If you start sleeping in one of the wagons, everyone will wonder what is going on.”

  “My job is to protect the gold,” he corrected, “but I suppose you’re right.”

  “I know I am, so come along.”

  Together they went into the hotel through the back door. They found Emma in the lounge, knitting, the Maroni brothers playing cards, and Mathieu and Albert playing chess.

  “Here they are,” Emma said, looking up over her spectacles.

  “Everything all right with the horses?” Gianni Maroni asked.

  “Everything’s fine,” Gabrielle reported. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Gone to the cafe down the street,” Mathieu reported.

  Leo walked over to look at the chessboard. Mathieu was winning.

  “Would you care to have a glass of wine before going to bed?” Gabrielle said to Leo. “We could walk down to the cafe if you like.”

  Leo agreed and Gabrielle said, “Let me change into something besides this skirt and boots.” As Gabrielle left the room, he turned his attention to the chess game. “Whose turn is it?” he asked.

  “Mine,” Albert said. He picked up a piece and Leo said, “Are you sure you want to move that?”

  Albert gave him a surprised look. “Why not?”

  “Look at your bishop,” Leo recommended.

  Albert looked. “Oh,” he said, and hastily moved his bishop out of danger.

  “Stop helping Albert and giving me a little bit of a challenge for a change.”

  “If I’m so terrible, then I won’t play with you at all,” Albert retorted. “It’s no fun for me to get beaten all the time.”

  Leo l
ooked at his supposed wife. She was wearing a long dark blue wool skirt with a matching jacket. It was a very simple outfit, with little trim, hardly fashionable, yet she managed to look very smart. Her hair was bundled into a loose chignon on the nape of her delicate neck.

  “Stop quarrelling, boys,” she said to her brothers. “Ready, Leo?”

  “Ready.” He followed her to the door and out onto the street. Colette went with them.

  The cafe’s outdoor patio was closed up for the night, with chairs upended onto tables, but when they walked inside they were greeted with brightness and the smell of cooking oil. Most of the tables were taken, the largest one by the circus people. Gabrielle and Leo went to join them.

  “Good,” Carlotta exclaimed happily as they came up to the table. “Another woman. Come and sit by me, Gabrielle.”

  “I’m sure Gabrielle will want to sit beside her new husband, cherie,” Henri said. “Bring over those chairs, Leo, and you both can squeeze in here.”

  Leo dragged the chairs over and he and Gabrielle sat down.

  Sully asked, “I was wondering—why are we starting out so early this year, Gabrielle? It’s colder and the light doesn’t last as long. We usually don’t start for another two weeks.”

  Leo looked at the man who was the Cirque Equestre’s clown. Sully was a tall, thin man with mournful brown eyes and a receding hairline. He didn’t look at all jolly.

  “I just thought it would be a good idea to get a head start on the season,” Gabrielle said easily. “The more performances we put on, the more money we make. No?”

  Leo, who knew that they were starting early so they could move the gold as quickly as possible, shot a swift look around the table to see if Gabrielle’s reason was accepted. A few people nodded and the rest seemed indifferent. He relaxed.

  Jeanne Maheu, one of the band members, smiled at him. “Have you been to Astleys circus in London, Leo?”

  Jeanne was an exotic-looking woman, with long black hair and slanting brown eyes. She almost looked Oriental, Leo thought.

  “No, I have never had that privilege,” he said.

  “Have you ever seen any circuses at all?” she pressed.

  He shook his head. “No, madame, I’m afraid I haven’t.”