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The Rails to Love Romance Collection

Page 59

by Brandmeyer, Diana Lesire; Cabot, Amanda; Carter, Lisa

Knowing Will kept a close watch on her brought Ellen comfort. And more worry. Constance must be insane. That was Ellen’s only explanation for her behavior. If Will had to confront her, no telling what she might do.

  Lucy sat beside her. “I saw you and Will talking earlier. He can’t stop staring at you. I’ve seen that look before—on my father’s face when he gazes at my mother. Will’s in love with you.”

  “Hush. I don’t want the other girls to know.”

  “Too late. They already do. The tiger is out of the cage, so to speak.”

  Ellen giggled. “I’m in love with him, too. He’s the man for me. I just hope he catches Constance trying to sabotage me again.”

  “Do you think she will?”

  “No telling what she is capable of. But I have to trust God, don’t I?”

  “ ‘Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.’ That’s His promise to us.”

  “So easy to say. So hard to do.” Ellen bent over her work once more. A few more stitches and she would finish the hem on this band member’s jacket. He wouldn’t need it until tomorrow’s parade, but it would be good to get the job accomplished.

  The albino twins came in to dress for the menagerie. How difficult it must be for them to travel without their parents. Ellen missed her family, but she couldn’t imagine being a child in the circus. Because she shared her name with one of the girls, they had a special place in her heart. “Ready for tonight’s show?”

  Little Ellen nodded, her white curls bouncing.

  Ellen went to the rack to pull out their costumes. Though she searched twice, she couldn’t find them. “Does anyone know where the McPherson children’s clothes are?”

  Lucy rummaged through a rack. “Constance had them when she stormed out of here this afternoon. She must still have them.”

  Great. Ellen surmised Constance planned some crime to pin on her. At least Will would be with her when she confronted her.

  Ellen scurried from the tent and scanned the area for Will. He wasn’t around. Neither was Constance. He must be following her. Maybe she went into town. But where did she put the costumes?

  Perhaps she took them to the Alvena to work alone, away from Ellen. She trudged across the grounds. The tracks sat some distance from the lot. She hoped the items would be there and this wouldn’t be a wasted trip.

  The odor of smoke hung in the air. What was Mr. Haley cooking? Shouldn’t he be about ready to pack up for the night?

  As she approached the Alvena, she realized the smell of smoke didn’t come from the cook wagon but from her own sleeping car.

  She grasped her skirts and sprinted toward the train. As fast as possible, she bounded up the steps.

  When she saw the sight, she stopped in her tracks.

  Flames leapt from her trunk, licking at the blankets hanging from the berth beside it.

  And Constance stood transfixed, watching the fire consume all Ellen’s worldly goods.

  No! Not her money. Her chest tightened, her stomach tumbling in her middle.

  She kept a roll of cash in a secret compartment. Every dime of what she’d saved to send Mama to the sanatorium.

  Not much.

  But all she had.

  She rushed forward, her throat constricting.

  Constance snapped to attention and blocked her way. “You’re getting what you deserve.”

  Ellen tried to push her to the side. “Let me go. I have to get in there.”

  Constance dug in her heels. “Never. Not until all you own is ashes.”

  The fire traveled along the berth and up the wall. Smoke filled the compartment. Ellen coughed. She labored for each breath.

  A handkerchief. She grabbed one from her skirt’s pocket and covered her mouth. She pushed and shoved with all of her might. Constance pushed back. Ellen stumbled to the ground. With one booted foot on her chest, Constance stood over her.

  What was she going to do? The money was gone. Gone. Though the chance of earning enough to help Mama was slim, there was one. Now, that small hope went up in smoke.

  Ellen’s eyes watered. “Get off of me.”

  Constance pressed harder on Ellen’s chest. What little air she managed to get in her lungs came filtered through the handkerchief.

  Blackness edged her vision. If she passed out, she might never emerge alive. She fought to remain conscious.

  Oh God, I’m trusting You to get me out of here. Only by His saving grace might she survive. Help me. Please, help me.

  The blackness closed in. The crackling of the fire faded into the background.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Smoke drifted from the Alvena’s window, catching Will’s attention as he returned to the circus grounds from town.

  Constance. What was she doing?

  He sprinted toward the sleeper car. Why had he left? Why had it taken so long to find a sawmill employee?

  Beads of sweat formed under his shirt collar. He loosened it so he could breathe better.

  God, help me! Though he pumped his arms and legs as fast as possible, the cars passed with maddening slowness. He reached the Alvena after what seemed like miles and miles of racing.

  He took the steps in one flying leap.

  When he opened the door, heat from the fire slapped his face.

  Constance stood in the middle of the room, flames surrounding her, her foot on something.

  Not something.

  Someone.

  Ellen.

  Will rushed forward. With one giant shove, he pushed Constance to the side. He bent down and dragged Ellen across the floor, toward the exit. Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Hang on, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. I’ll have you in clean air in a minute.”

  Constance barreled at him, knocking him off balance. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  He staggered and bumped against a berth. A moment later, he regained his balance and picked up Ellen.

  “Will?”

  He wanted to brush the brown curl from her damp forehead. “Yes, I’m here. Don’t worry. I have you.”

  “God sent you to me.”

  “Yes, He did.”

  Constance rushed him again. This time, he steeled himself. When she plowed into him, he grabbed her and tossed her to the side. A moment later, he and Ellen emerged into the daylight.

  By this time, a crowd had formed, drawn by the smoke. He handed her off to Lucy and went inside to confront Constance.

  “There’s no more use in fighting. This is the end for you.”

  She narrowed her watery eyes. “Not until I get what I want.”

  “It’s not yours to have.” He stepped forward. She backed up. They repeated this dance until she stumbled into the flames. She screamed. In one motion, he scooped her up. She wriggled. Kicked. Scratched. He held firm. Sweat rolled down his face, his back, his chest. He coughed. So did she.

  The door. So far away. He lurched forward. He couldn’t breathe.

  Ellen sat on the hard-packed dirt, coughing, crying, waiting for Will to emerge from the burning train car. What was happening to him? God, please save him. I’ve lost so much. I can’t lose him.

  She remembered praying for help as the darkness consumed her. And God answered her. Will came. He pulled her out. He saved her.

  He shall give you the desires of your heart.

  There is one thing I desire, Lord. A life with Will. Please, make that possible.

  “He’ll be fine.” Lucy sat next to her and rubbed her back.

  “I pray you’re right.”

  A crowd of roustabouts and kitchen staff gathered. Most of the crew continued with the show. Nothing must stop it.

  How long had he been in there? She jiggled her foot. Come on, let me see you. Just one glimpse. “What’s taking him so long?”

  “He’ll be out. You’ll see.” Lucy’s words brought small comfort.

  And then, the most beautiful sight. Will tumbled through the door, Constance in his arms. Several of the tent men not yet
busy with teardown rushed forward. One took Constance. The other steadied Will.

  Ellen jumped up. Still shaky herself, she ignored the dizziness and staggered forward. A wide grin spread across his face. He enveloped her in a hug.

  “Oh, Will, I thought you were going to die. What would I do without you?”

  He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. Though he tasted of smoke, she didn’t care. Nothing had ever been sweeter to her.

  He broke away. “You’ll never have to find out. Ellen Meyer, I love you. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Her body tingled. “Yes, yes, yes, of course I will. I love you, too.”

  A cheer went up from the circus family surrounding them.

  “And I have one more surprise for you.” He reached into his back pocket and drew out a piece of paper. A telegram.

  No, not more bad news. Couldn’t she be happy for a few moments?

  “It’s from a fine sanatorium in Boston. They have accepted your mother as a patient. Her care is paid for in full.”

  “You did this for me?”

  “For you. For us. I can’t be happy unless you are.” With that, he kissed her again.

  She returned the kiss, deepening it until she couldn’t catch her breath.

  The World’s Greatest Show brought them together. And together they’d live out the world’s greatest love.

  Epilogue

  Sunday, July 12, 1896

  Baraboo, Wisconsin

  Ellen sat in the upstairs bedroom of Will’s father’s home as Lucy fussed with her hair. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride ever.”

  Ellen peered at herself in the mirror. Did she glow from happiness? “I can’t wait. It’s fast, I know, but why put it off?”

  “Not at all. If you’re truly in love, there’s no reason to.”

  “And it worked out that we’re near the Ringling’s home base, so Will’s dad can be a part of our special day. Even if my parents can’t.”

  “They’ll meet him when you go east this winter. And they’ll love him.”

  “Maybe Mama will be well enough by then to be home.”

  A knock sounded at the door. “Are you ready?”

  Lucy pinned one last curl and admitted Mr. Ringling. “She is.”

  “Your groom awaits.” He offered Ellen his elbow and escorted her downstairs.

  Flowers adorned the small parlor, the scent of roses perfuming the air. Will stood between the long front windows waiting for her, straight and tall, his eyes bright. She’d never met anyone so handsome.

  She smoothed down the light gray silk of the gown her assistants had created for her and descended the steps. Once in front of the minister, Mr. Ringling handed her off to Will.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Will said. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I’m the most blessed woman in the world to call you my husband.”

  The pastor cleared his throat and began the ceremony. Though she tried to listen to his admonition to them, the service passed in a blur. Before she knew it, the reverend declared them to be husband and wife.

  She tingled from head to toe.

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  Will bent over and pulled her close. “I love you, Mrs. Jorgensen.”

  “I love you, too.”

  They kissed, a long, deep kiss.

  No circus would be as thrilling as this moment.

  The world’s greatest love, indeed.

  Liz Tolsma is a popular speaker and an editor and the owner of the Write Direction Editing. An almost-native Wisconsinite, she resides in a quiet corner of the state with her husband and their two daughters. Her son proudly serves as a U.S. Marine. They adopted all of their children internationally, and one has special needs. When she gets a few spare minutes, she enjoys reading, relaxing on the front porch, walking, working in her large perennial garden, and camping with her family.

 

 

 


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