“Give me a taste.”
She jabbed her fork into the chicken, and as she cut a piece, the juices spurted out “Look at this.” She poked her fork it him.
He obediently pulled the chicken off with his teeth, chewed, and grimaced. “Dry.”
She snatched up her knife, cut a piece for herself, and ate it. As she had predicted, it was just as delicious as it looked. She ate another. “There is nothing wrong with this chicken.”
“I guess the lasagna affected my taste buds. Let me try some of your pasta.”
Irritated, she watched him twirl his fork in her pasta and slip it into his mouth. A moment later, he delivered his verdict. “Too spicy for you.”
“I happen to like spicy food.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She jabbed at the pasta and dribbled some sauce on the tablecloth as she carried it to her mouth. The sauce was mild and flavorful. “It’s not spicy at all.”
She began to reach for another forkful only to check the motion in midair. Her eyes flew to his as she realized she’d let him trick her, and she set down her fork. “Another power play.”
His long, lean fingers curled around her wrist, and he looked at her with a concern she didn’t believe for a moment. “Please, Daisy. You’re so thin you’re scaring me. You have to eat for the baby.”
“You have no right!” Pain rushed through her. She choked back the rest of what she had been about to say and retreated behind the icy barrier that kept her safe. Emotion was her enemy. She would think only about what was best for her child.
Without a word, she returned to her meal, eating until she couldn’t eat any more. She ignored his attempts at conversation and took no interest in the fact that he ate hardly anything himself. In her mind, she escaped to a beautiful meadow where she and her baby could roam free, both of them guarded by a powerful tiger named Sinjun who loved them and no longer needed a cage.
“You’re exhausted,” he said when she finally set down her fork. “Both of us need sleep. Let’s make an early night of it.”
She rose from the table, gathered her things, and went into the bathroom, where she treated herself to a long shower. When she finally came out, the suite was dark, lit only by a faint light seeping through a crack in the draperies. Alex lay on his back on the far side of the king size bed.
She was so tired she could barely stand, but the sight of his bare chest kept her from moving closer.
“It’s all right,” he whispered through the darkness. “I won’t touch you, sweetheart.”
She stayed where she was until she realized that it made no difference whether he touched her or not. No matter what he did, she would feel nothing.
Alex shoved his hands into the pocket of his windbreaker and leaned against the hurricane fence that marked the far edge of the lot where they’d be spending the next two days. They were in Monroe County, Georgia, and the October air of midmorning carried the crisp hint of autumn.
Brady approached him. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah, well you don’t look so good yourself.”
“Women,” he snorted. “Can’t live with them. Can’t murder ’em in their sleep.”
Alex couldn’t even summon a smile. Brady might be having trouble with Sheba, but at least his relationship with Heather was going well. The two of them spent a lot of time together, and Brady was a more patient trainer than he’d been in the past. It was paying off, too, because Heather’s performances were improving.
He and Daisy had been back for ten days, and the entire circus knew that something was drastically wrong with her. She didn’t laugh anymore or flounce around the lot with her ponytail bouncing. She was polite to everyone—she was even helping Heather with her schoolwork—but all the special qualities that had made her who she was seemed to have been extinguished. And everybody expected him to fix her.
Brady pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and slipped it into his mouth. “Daisy’s been a lot different since she got back.”
“She’s adjusting to being pregnant, that’s all.”
Brady wasn’t fooled. “I miss the way she used to be. She was always nibbing in my business—I guess I don’t miss that—but I sure miss the way she cared about everybody. Now it doesn’t seem like she cares about anything other than Sinjun and the elephants.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
They watched in silence as a truck dumped a load of hay. Alex saw Daisy pick up one of the long-handled brushes and begin scrubbing Puddin’. He’d told her he didn’t want her working, but she said she’d gotten used to work. Then he’d tried to order her to stay away from all of the elephants except Tater, fearing that one of them would swat her. She’d looked right through him and done exactly what she wanted.
Brady crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you should know—I saw her curled up in Sinjun’s cage again last night.”
“Damn it! I swear to God I’m going to handcuff her if she doesn’t stay out of that tiger cage!”
“It scares the shit out of me, I’ll tell you that. I hate seeing her like this.”
“Yeah, well you’re not the only one.”
“Why don’t you do something?”
“Just what do you suggest? I had one of my cars brought down from Connecticut so she wouldn’t have to ride in the truck, but she said she liked the truck. I’ve bought her flowers, and she ignores them. I tried to order a new RV, but she had a fit when she found out about it, so I had to cancel. I don’t know what else I can do.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Why am I telling you this? If you knew anything about women, you wouldn’t be hanging around Sheba.”
“You’re not getting any argument out of me.”
“Daisy’s going to be fine. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Sure. You’re probably right.”
“Damn right I am.”
If he repeated it enough times, maybe he could make it come true. How he missed the way she had been. She never cried anymore. Her easy tears had been as much a part of her as the air she breathed, but now she seemed to have anesthetized herself to emotion. He remembered the way she used to throw herself into his arms from the top of the truck ramp, the sound of her laughter, the brush of her hand in his hair. He ached for her in a way he had never ached for anyone, and last night, it had pushed him over the edge.
He winced at the memory.
He’d dreamed she was smiling at him in that way she used to, her whole face lit up, offering herself to him. He’d awakened to find himself pressed against her. It had been so long, and he wanted her too much to let her go.
He slid his hand along her hip and over the sweet thickening at her waist. She’d awakened immediately, and he’d felt her stiffen as he caressed her, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even resist when he spread her thighs and moved on top of her. Instead, she lay passively while he added one more sin to the list of those he’d already committed against her. He’d felt like a rapist, and this morning he hadn’t been able to look himself in the eye when he’d shaved.
“She still talks to Heather,” Brady said. “But not the way she used to. Heather’s as worried as the rest of us.”
Heather finished the tacos Sheba had made for her and wiped her fingers on her paper napkin. “Do you want to hear what Dad said to me last night?”
Sheba looked over from the sink. “Sure.”
Heather grinned, then puffed out her chest. “He said, ‘Damn it, Heather, get your crap off the couch. Just because I love you doesn’t mean I want your makeup plastered all over my ass.”
Sheba laughed. “Your old man sure knows how to sweet talk.”
“That day at the airport . . .” She blinked. “He had tears in his eyes, Sheba.”
“He loves you a lot.”
“I guess I know that now.” Her smile faded. “I feel sort of guilty being so happy and everything when Daisy’s all screwed up. Yesterday I said shit right i
n front of her, and she didn’t even notice.”
Sheba swiped at the counter with a dishcloth. “Daisy’s all anyone talks about anymore. I’m getting sick of it.”
“That’s because you don’t like her, and I can’t understand why. I mean I know you and Alex used to be together and everything, but you don’t care about him anymore, and she’s so sad, so what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that Sheba can’t stand it when anybody gets the best of her.” Brady stood just inside the door, although neither of them had heard him come in.
Sheba got her hackles up right away. “Don’t you ever knock?”
Heather sighed. “Are you two going to start arguing again?”
“I don’t argue,” Brady said. “She’s the one.”
“Ha! He thinks he can tell me what to do, and I won’t let him.”
“That’s what he says about you,” Heather pointed out patiently. And then, even though she was beginning to think she was wasting her breath, she said, “If the two of you would just get married, you’d be so busy bossing each other around that you’d leave everybody else alone.”
“I wouldn’t marry him for anything!”
“I wouldn’t marry her if she was the last woman on earth!”
“Then you shouldn’t be sleeping together.” Heather adopted her best Daisy Markov voice. “And I know you sneak over here to be with her just about every night, Dad, even though sex without a deep commitment to the other person is immoral.”
Sheba turned red. Her dad opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish, then began to bluster. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady. Sheba and I are just friends, that’s all. She’s been having trouble with her water tank, and I—”
Heather rolled her eyes. “I’m not a moron.”
“Now listen here—”
“What kind of example do the two of you think you’re setting for me? Just yesterday I was reading about adolescent psychology for my homework assignment, and I already have a couple of big strikes against me.”
“What strikes?”
“I lost my mother, and I’m the product of a broken home. That, plus what I see going on right now with the two most influential adults in my life, makes me more likely to have a teenage pregnancy.”
Her dad’s eyebrows shot up practically to his hairline, and she seriously thought he was going to pee his pants. Even though she wasn’t afraid of him like she used to be, she wasn’t stupid, either. “Got to go. See you guys later.”
She slammed out of the trailer.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Settle down,” Sheba said. “She’s just trying to make a point.”
“What point?”
“That the two of us should get married.” Sheba plopped a dab of taco meat in her mouth. “Which just goes to show how much she knows about the real world.”
“You got that right.”
“She still hasn’t figured out how incompatible we are.”
“Except in there.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom in the rear.
“Yeah, well . . .” A foxy smile came over her face. “You peasant boys do have your uses.”
“Damn right we do.” He drew her into his arms, and she snuggled against him. He started kissing her, but then he drew back because both of them had things to do, and once they got started with each other, they had a hard time stopping.
He saw that her eyes looked troubled. “The season’s almost over,” she said. “A couple of weeks and we’ll be in Tampa.”
“We’ll still see each other this winter.”
“Who says I want to see you?”
She was lying, and both of them knew it. They’d become important to each other, and now he had the feeling she wanted something from him that he couldn’t give.
He buried his lips in her hair. “Sheba, I care about you. I guess I even love you. But I can’t marry you. I got my pride, and you’re always stomping over it.”
She stiffened and drew away, shooting sparks at him and acting like he was some kind of cockroach. “I don’t think anybody asked you to get married.”
He wasn’t good with words, but there was something he’d been trying to say to her for a long time, something important. “I’d like to marry you. But it’d just be too hard being married to someone who’s putting me down all the time.”
“What are you talking about? You put me down, too.”
“Yeah, but I don’t mean it, and you do. There’s a big difference. You really think you’re better than everybody else. You think you’re perfect.”
“I never said that.”
“Then name something that’s wrong with you.”
“I can’t fly like I used to.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about something inside you that’s not as good as it should be. Everybody has things like that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head sadly. “I know you don’t, babe. And until you figure it out, there’s not much hope for us.”
He let her go, but before he made it all the way to the door, she started yelling. “You don’t know anything! Just because I’m tough doesn’t mean I’m not a good person. I am, damn it! I’m a good person!”
“You’re also a snob,” he said, turning back. “Most of the time you don’t think about anybody’s feelings but your own. You hurt other people. You’re obsessed with the past, and you’re the most stuck-up person I ever knew.”
For a moment she stood there stunned, but then she started to scream. “Liar! I’m a good person! I am!”
“Keep saying it, babe, and maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
Her cry of fury sent a chill down his spine. He knew she’d fight back, and he managed to make it out the door before the plate of tacos came crashing into it.
As Daisy roamed the lot that night, she found herself wishing she were still performing with Alex. At least it would have kept her busy. When he’d announced that she wasn’t going back into the ring with him, she’d felt neither relief nor disappointment. It simply made no difference. In the past six weeks she’d discovered a pain far more hurtful than any that could be inflicted by the whip.
She watched the crowd file out of the top. Weary children clung to their mother’s sides and fathers carried tired toddlers with candy-apple stains around their mouths. Not so long ago, the sight of those fathers had made her eyes fill with sentimental tears as she’d imagined Alex carrying their child. Now her eyes were dry. Along with everything else, she had lost the ability to cry.
Since the circus wasn’t moving on that night, the workers were free for the evening, and they set off for town in search of food and liquor. The lot fell quiet. While Alex tended Misha, she slipped into one of his old sweatshirts, then made her way through the sleeping elephants until she reached Tater. Kneeling down, she tucked herself between his front legs and let the baby elephant plop the end of his trunk on her knee.
She buried herself deeper in Alex’s sweatshirt. The soft fleece carried his scent, that particular combination of soap, sun, and leather that she would have recognized anywhere. Was everything she loved going to be taken from her?
She heard the sound of quiet footsteps. Tater shifted his rear quarters and a pair of denim-clad legs appeared that she had no difficulty recognizing.
Alex crouched down next to her and propped his elbows on his splayed knees, hands dangling between. He looked so tired that, for a fraction of a second, she wanted to comfort him. “Please come out of there,” he whispered. “I need you so badly.”
She rested her cheek against Tater’s wrinkly gunnysack let. “I think I’ll stay here a while longer.”
His shoulders sagged, and he poked his finger in the dirt. “My house . . . it’s big. There’s a guest room on the south side that looks out on an old orchard.”
She released her breath in a soft sigh. “It’
s chilly tonight. Fall’s coming.”
“I thought we could maybe make it into a nursery. It’s a nice room. Sunny, with a big window. Maybe we could put a rocking chair there.”
“I’ve always liked the fall.”
The animals shifted, and one of them snorted quietly in its sleep. Tater lifted his trunk from her knee and draped it on her husband’s shoulder. The softness in Alex’s voice didn’t hide its bitterness. “You’re not ever going to forgive me are you?”
She said nothing.
“I love you, Daisy. I love you so much I hurt.”
She heard his suffering, saw the vulnerability in his face, and even though she knew it came from guilt, she had endured too much pain herself to find any pleasure in inflicting it on another, especially one who still meant so much to her. She spoke as gently as she could. “You don’t know how to love, Alex.”
“That might have been true once, but not anymore.”
Maybe it was the comfort she received from sitting beneath Tater’s heart or maybe it was Alex’s pain, but she could feel the icy barrier inside her beginning to crack. Despite everything, she still loved him. She’d lied to him and to herself when she’d said she didn’t. He was the mate of her soul, and he would own her heart forever. With that realization came a deeper and more bitter knowledge. If she ever again let herself fall victim to the love she had for him, it might very well destroy her, and for the baby’s sake, she couldn’t let that happen.
“Don’t you see? What you’re feeling is guilt, not love.”
“That’s not true.”
“You’re a proud man. You violated your sense of honor, and now you’re trying to make amends. I understand that, but I’m not going to let my life be dictated by words you don’t really mean. This baby is too important to me.”
“The baby’s important to me, too.”
She winced. “Don’t say that. Please.”
“I’d prove my love if I could, but I don’t know how to do that.”
“You’re going to have to let me go. I know it’ll hurt your pride, and I’m sorry about that, but being together like this is too difficult.”
Kiss an Angel Page 36
