Vagabond Circus Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  Finley thought for a minute and then shook his head.

  “I thought so. You see, after Cynthia died and the child that he had thought was his was murdered, Dave went into a depression. He suffered a great deal of pain, but he had a circus to run and he was more motivated than ever after that tragedy befell him. His brother had sought to ruin his life. Dave finally pulled out of the depression, but still held on to the pain. He suffered nightmares and was only able to rest while dream traveling or using a concoction I made that stole his dreams away.” Fanny shook her head, her tight curls only swaying slightly. “He was a tortured soul after that. And he gave up much that day. He gave up years of his life and also his powers. You see, a person cannot use their dream travel gifts if their heart is too weighted with sadness. It steals their power. Dave knew this, and yet he never let go of the pain. And therefore he was never able to use his Dream Traveler skills after the day his wife, and supposedly you, died.”

  “What was his gift?” Finley said, thinking he knew the answer, and then shaking his head at himself because that was impossible. He hardly knew anything about Dr. Dave Raydon.

  “He had a few actually,” Fanny said, and there was a surprisingly sneaky grin tucked behind her words. “He had the gift of super speed and he was a teleporter.”

  “Wait. What? So I inherited my uncle’s gifts? How is that possible? Does that ever happen?” Finley said, knowing that gifts were shared in families. All of Zuma’s immediate family shared the gift of telepathy.

  “It hardly ever happens that a nephew inherits a gift from an uncle,” Fanny said.

  “Then why do I have Dave’s gifts?” Finley asked.

  And Fanny, dear sweet Fanny, actually raised a challenging eyebrow to the young man. She knew he was smart enough to figure this out. Knew it would be more powerful if he did. She wasn’t playing a game, but she was enjoying dismantling a secret she’d held onto for all those months.

  “What? Why are you just looking at me like that?” Finley asked.

  “You didn’t inherit your uncle’s gifts, Finley,” Fanny said, and then she reached out and touched his chin with her fingers. Held it up a little higher so she could see those eyes, the ones that reminded her of the man who saved her life. “You inherited your father’s gifts, sweetheart.”

  “What? Dave…you think…are you trying to tell me…” Finley couldn’t construct a sentence because his mind couldn’t assimilate this new information.

  “Yes, I believe Dave Raydon was actually your father,” she said, dropping her hand back to her lap.

  “But I time traveled. I saw my mother, Cynthia, tell Knight that he had killed his own son when he’d confessed what he’d done,” Finley said.

  “Oh, yes,” Fanny said, with a knowing look. “And what would be the worst punishment you could think of for a lover who had killed your child, the one from another man?”

  “To reveal to him that the child was actually his,” Finley said slowly, in awe. “But still, this doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Finley, from my perspective it makes perfect sense, since I knew your mother. From your perspective it’s a strange reality that’s not easy to digest.”

  “What are you implying about my mother?” Finley asked, but there wasn’t any offense in the question, only a sincere curiosity.

  Fanny pulled her mouth to the side as she considered how to phrase what she needed to say. “Your mother, Cynthia, she was the type of woman who would have an affair with her husband’s brother. She—”

  “You’re saying she was a bad person,” Finley said, wondering if he was destined to be evil if he came from two dishonest parents. Maybe it would have been better to be born from the surrogates, he thought.

  Fanny’s head shook. “Life isn’t black and white. There aren’t bad and good people and no one knew that better than Dave. He loved your mother because she was incredible. She had an essence about her that drew people in. Cynthia was stunning to look at and also had a brilliant mind to impress. But all of this gave her too much power over people, and made her a bit greedy at times.” Fanny said this all matter-of-factly, not a hint of judgment in her tone.

  “And that’s why she had an affair with Knight?” Finley asked.

  “I believe so,” Fanny said. “I think she was also punishing Dave when he wouldn’t abandon the circus.”

  “I hear what you’re saying about the world not being black and white, but I think my mother was a bad person. She definitely sounds manipulative,” Finley said.

  Fanny teetered her head side to side, her lips puckered slightly with a look that said, “who are we to judge.” Then she reached out and patted Finley’s knee. “I believe people do bad things. If I recall, you were not always nice to Zuma and she punished you for a long time, as well.”

  “But that was different. I was protecting Zuma by being mean to her. And she punished me because I was culpable for Dave’s death,” Finley said in an urgent rush.

  “Exactly,” Fanny said with a triumphant smile. “Everyone has reasons and we do ourselves many favors when we don’t judge others for their decisions. There are all types of people in the world who were molded by all different experiences and have different motives for their actions. For whatever reason, your mother was the type who punished people who didn’t act in the way she wanted. And you, Finley, are the type who will punish yourself to protect people.”

  “So based on your knowledge of my mother, you think that she told Knight I was his child to punish him? To make him regret murdering me?” Finley said.

  “That’s right,” Fanny said. “It feels like something she’d do, and then everything else about you would make more sense too. It would explain your abilities, features, and personality, which resemble Dave much more than Knight.”

  “But then I don’t understand why you told Knight, and me, and the rest of the circus that he was my father? Why would you mislead us?”

  The calm smile on Fanny’s face fell away. “I know. I don’t like to play games or mess with people’s lives. Lies are not something I’ve ever been comfortable with. However, this situation was unique and dangerous. I knew I was in a special position since I was the only one who possessed the knowledge of your birth. And I prayed and prayed and God granted me an idea one morning. He told me that the solution to rid the circus of Knight was only possible if he thought you were his son. And after thinking about it that made perfect sense. I think if he would have found out you were Dave’s son then you’d be dead already. And he probably hesitated killing you today because he thought you were his son. And then also, I think you were more motivated to rid the world of him because of the connection he held to you.” She then shrugged like this was all conjecture. “It is hard to know how and why God works the way he does, but Knight is gone and that’s because of you, so there you are.”

  “Well, is there any way to determine if Dave is in fact my father?” Finley asked.

  “I figured you’d say that, and yes, there is. As you know, I care for and monitor the health of everyone at Vagabond Circus. I saved a sample of Dave’s blood from his last physical. Ironically I was going to do the DNA test the very day I found out Dave was dead.” Fanny then sighed like she was trying to relieve a heavy burden from her chest. “I never had the opportunity to perform the test while Dave was living. I never got the opportunity to tell him who you were and my suspicions about Cynthia’s lie. God decided Dave would never meet you for who you were, his blood relative, but I also believe, his son. You see, Finley, Dave and Knight were related, but you take after our founder. I’ve been observing it since the day I met you. And there’s one thing that makes me certain my inkling is right.” The healer smiled now, but there was a great sadness to the gesture, as a memory surfaced in her eyes. “You have Dave’s heart.”

  Finley found that swallowing wasn’t really an option after all this news. Instead, he attempted his own weak smile.

  “Now,” Fanny said, pulling confidence into the word as sh
e shook off the sentimentality. “What I need from you is a sample. If I can have that, then inside my trailer I have the equipment to determine who your real father is.”

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Finley waited outside Fanny’s trailer. He couldn’t stand the idea of watching her perform the DNA test. After she’d taken his sample, he stayed in the trailer, but not for long. The waiting was worse when he watched her measuring chemicals and shaking test tubes. He had taken back up the spot on the picnic table where the kids usually did their lessons, out in front of the trailer.

  “Hey.” It was Zuma’s voice.

  Finley looked up at her and tried to smile. The grin on his face made his heart feel heavy.

  “What are you doing out here? I came to check on you,” she said, studying the cuts on his face. “It doesn’t look like Fanny has treated you yet.”

  He shook his head. Bit his lip.

  “What is it?” she asked, reading the worry in his face.

  “Zuma, Fanny believes that my mother lied to punish Knight.” The words spilled out of Finley too fast, like something he would explode from if he didn’t share.

  Zuma’s face contorted with confusion. “What?”

  He nodded. “Fanny thinks Cynthia told Knight he’d killed his son to punish him. Or maybe she thought I was Knight’s son. But Fanny doesn’t.”

  “What? Why?” Zuma asked, the full implications not dawning on her yet.

  “Did you know what Dave’s gifts were?” Finley said.

  She nodded. He had never used them around her since he couldn’t, but from being in his head she knew. “Yeah, he had super sp…” Her words trailed away as her mouth hung open. “Dave? Fanny thinks Dave is your father?” And now a bright smile sprung to her face. It was so wide it hurt her lips. Being happy would take getting used to. Again her sudden happiness made the space seem brighter, better. Zuma sat beside Finley with an exuberant thud.

  “But there’s a chance he’s not. That Knight is my father. That I killed my father,” Finley said, that same shame from before in his voice.

  Zuma turned to Finley and grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t matter to me who your father is. I love you no matter what.”

  He brought his tortured gaze up to meet her eyes. “But you’d probably love me more if I was Dave’s son.”

  She pulled his hand locked in hers to her chest and held it there like a prize. “That’s impossible, because I couldn’t conceivably love you any more than I do.”

  The door to Fanny’s trailer swung open, grabbing both the acrobats’ attention. They stood in unison. Finley looked down at Zuma and he read the question in her eyes. “Yes, I want you to stay. Hear the news with me,” he said.

  She grabbed his hand again and squeezed it once. Together the pair walked forward, meeting Fanny halfway. The trip seemed double the distance Finley remembered. And the whole time he studied Fanny’s face, trying to discern if she was holding onto good or bad news. For a woman with such a usually expressive face, her features were all neutral. No smile, nor frown. Eyes set in a clinical gaze. Jaw relaxed. Even Zuma, using her combat sense, had difficulty picking up any information by studying the woman.

  When Finley and Zuma halted in front of the healer there were a few seconds of silence. This was a moment full of weight. Fanny seemed to know it shouldn’t be rushed. That’s why she stalled, sucking in a steadying breath before meeting Finley’s eyes.

  “Tell me,” Finley said, his tone bordering on demanding.

  And just then Fanny’s eyes betrayed the cover-up she’d been attempting. She was so overwhelmed with emotions that it took everything she had to pretend to have the unaffected bedside manner. Even in the darkening grounds the sparkle of excitement radiated from her blue eyes.

  “I tested fifteen genetic markers and there was a one-hundred-percent match for your and Dave’s samples,” Fanny said, and then every wrinkle on her face punctuated the wide smile she adorned. “It is my great honor to inform you that Dr. Dave Raydon, the illustrious founder of this circus, was your father. And that means you are now the rightful owner of Vagabond Circus. Congratulations, Finley Raydon.”

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Titus and Fanny stood side by side watching the crew working side by side to take down the big top. It would be loaded up and have to be repaired once they set up in Los Angeles. Ian called orders and each of his crew members responded with a quick attentiveness. They worked like a machine, everyone supporting each other. Some whistled or hummed as they disassembled the various parts of the big top. Knight’s body had already been removed and would join Gwendolyn’s and Sebastian’s ashes.

  “This circus has seen much the last few months,” Fanny said, her hands on her hips as she watched the crew.

  “We’ve lost much too,” Titus said.

  “But we have bonded together to overcome a great evil.”

  “True,” Titus said.

  “And I think we are better off for this.”

  “You do?” Titus said, raising his light-colored eyebrows at the woman.

  “I do,” she said with a proud smile. “Jack has healed and you know, Titus, he has a confidence that’s to impress. That look of shame is gone from his eyes. He’s the man that Dave thought he could become.”

  “And you think being paralyzed brought him all that?”

  She shook her head, a smile in her eyes. “No, I think getting rid of the pity so he could make himself walk again did. And I dare say I don’t think he’d have found love without being paralyzed.”

  Titus laughed easily. “Yes, we will definitely be getting rid of Rule Two.”

  “And Finley, he has a legacy to be proud of.”

  “Yes, his father’s,” Titus said, his eyes lighting up. “Finley Raydon, the new owner of Vagabond Circus.” Titus liked the idea of sharing his co-ownership with the acrobat. He loved the idea actually. “Poor Dave, he never knew,” Titus said. “His son was here. And he was so very proud of him, knowing he was his star performer. Imagine if he knew that star who saved Vagabond Circus financially was his son. And then he went on to save Vagabond Circus from Knight and his curses.”

  Fanny lifted her chin and looked at the sky that was just starting to wink with bright stars. “Oh, I don’t know, Titus, I feel Dave knows. I feel that he’s proud of his son. God would gift that man with that knowledge.”

  Titus smiled at Fanny. He’d always admired her faith. It amazed him actually. There were many things about the woman that amazed him.

  She caught him staring at her. “And then there’s Zuma,” she said.

  “Yes, she can finally be happy. The curse is lifted.”

  Fanny slid her hand into Titus’s and squeezed. It surprised him at first but then he relaxed. “You know, Titus, we can all be happy now.”

  He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. Then the creative director raised her hand in his and brought the back of hers to his lips where he kissed it once. “Yes, I think it’s overdue,” he said and allowed his lips to linger on her hand for a long few seconds, a passionate smile on his face.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  The big top was loaded in record speed the night Charles Knight died. Again the crew was intent on escaping a place where death had happened. Ian requested that they all rest and leave first thing the next morning. He saw all the trucks off. Then he continued to sit on the back of his teal Chevy pickup as the caravan took their lineup. Zuma’s trailer pulled out last, just after Finley’s. Sunshine was in the lead, Jack behind her. And as was usually the case, Titus and Fanny had the middle position. They were in essence the parents of Vagabond Circus. And the people of the circus were all their kids.

  They will do well now, Ian thought. Over the last few months he’d played a dangerous game, messing with the futures he saw. He didn’t just intervene, he instigated change. He stopped futures, prevented Finley’s death. Allowed Jasmine’s to happen. Created the likelihood of Padmal’s death. And he watched like a prisoner as the future
s changed. He kept tweaking things until he saw this one. The future where everything was tied up in a beautiful oversized bow. And now he was living that reality. It was all he wanted.

  Ian’s eyes were glazed over. The visions were unrelenting now, but they were mostly good. Zuma would be happy. She’d go on to love the life she never even knew was a possibility. And so would Finley. He’d hold his soulmate every single night, only to be parted from Zuma on the three separate nights where she needed space after childbirth. Jack would not only walk until the day he died, but he would run, run after the girl who dared to leave the circus because she was afraid of the emotions in her own heart. Sunshine was afraid of love, of being loved. She’d read that emotion in other people, but never thought she could feel it. Jack would convince her not to run from him. And there would also be loss at Vagabond Circus. Titus wouldn’t live forever, and Fanny would feel extremely alone when she couldn’t save him. But they would have many decades of love and companionship before that.

  Ian saw these futures. He saw hundreds of futures. So many people affected Ian and therefore their futures were a part of his visions. The day before, due to the unrelenting flashes of the future, he could hardly help to take down the big top so he gave orders. Ian had gone blind. A doctor would say his eyes worked fine but his mind wouldn’t allow them to see. All that flashed in front of his retinas was the future. Ian couldn’t drive his truck. He knew that. And for too long he’d seen this future. It came at the end whether Vagabond Circus had a happy or sad ending. He’d known that and was grateful things had indeed ended happily. But he wasn’t an optimist and knew that not everything ends with a pretty little bow on it.

  Ian smiled, looking at nothing in his physical world. And still this was the perfect ending for him. He’d done what he set out to do. He’d saved Zuma from the curse, the girl who was the key to saving the circus.

  The clairvoyant felt around for the pistol. His fingers finally knocked into it. He placed it in his hand and brought it into position. Ian’s fate was always to follow his mother’s. And he was grateful he left no offspring, cursed with the visions of the future. Ian’s wasn’t a happy life, but he had helped others achieve happiness. This was his last thought before he pulled back the hammer and released the trigger.