The Haunting at Bonaventure Circus

by Jaime Jo Wright

  “Shh, baby girl,” Pippa whispered. Another kiss to the wide expanse of Lily’s forehead.

  The three of them were a cohesive unit.

  Pippa could feel Jake watching them, yet he didn’t say a word. She could feel her strength oozing into Lily. Finally, completely, a family in the middle of a fray filled with threat, foreboding, and a tentative future.

  “Pippa?” Jake broke the silence. She heard him draw a breath, one that shook with the attempt to tamp down his passion.

  “Yes?” Her response was muffled as she leaned into Lily. She didn’t look at him.

  “Thank you for helping Lily.” Though it was far from prolific, Pippa heard the sincerity in his voice.

  She rewarded him with a sideways glance, then quickly looked away. Pippa could feel tears burning her eyes, and if she could feel them so strongly, she knew he could see them. She leaned back from a calmer Lily. There was nothing to say. Nothing she could say except, “Lily needs to eat.”

  “She needs to bond first.” Jake moved beside them, but he didn’t reach out to touch Lily and left a safe distance between himself and Pippa. “Until she bonds, she won’t eat well. This has been the root problem all along. But if she will bond with you . . .” He let his sentence hang.

  Pippa eyed him. She wanted to be able to see inside him—well, as much as he would let her—to understand the dark pain that lingered just underneath his tumultuous surface. Jake was an explosion waiting to erupt. He was wound tight, so tight, even now in his semi-relaxed form his jaw muscle twitched from clenching his teeth. She turned her face back into Lily’s. The elephant’s eyes closed, the cuts on her face from her mother’s beating making her look that much more pathetic.

  “I hate what is happening here,” Pippa admitted, not wanting to confide in him, but not able to withdraw either. Circumstances of the worst kind had thrown them together.

  Jake tipped his head and studied her.

  She blinked away the betraying tears, but her chin quivered. His eyes deepened. He’d noticed it. He’d noticed the fierce emotion warring within her, the same as she’d noted his. But neither of them could speak empty words of hope.

  They focused on the elephant calf instead. The one link between them.

  Jake cleared his throat and broke the silent connection. “Lily may heal from her physical wounds, but with no nurturing from her mother to inspire her to eat and no inspiration to live, she could still die. She hasn’t been eating near the right amount.”

  Pippa ran her hand down the leathery skin of Lily’s back, the tiny hair bristling beneath her palm. “I’ve heard that elephants mourn loss much like a human. She misses her mother, doesn’t she?”

  Jake nodded and moved his foot, pushing away some straw from the wood floor. “It’s why Ernie had assigned me to watch her. I was supposed to form that bond and become Lily’s parent.”

  “She didn’t want you.” Then a small thread of realization entered Pippa’s consciousness. Lily hadn’t responded to Jake. Her birth, the traumatic rejection from Agnes her mother, and Jake whom she didn’t fully trust. She lifted her eyes to Jake. “You weren’t able to save Lily the same way you couldn’t save your sister.”

  Jake looked away, running his hand under his nose and sniffing as if to dismiss her observation. “Doesn’t matter.” He must have meant to respond strongly, yet there was a hitch in his voice. An unguarded, painful admission behind his dismissal.

  “If my arms were big enough, I would embrace Lily’s entire circumference.” Pippa intended her words to be soft, to be understanding, and to be a riddle Jake could unwind and apply to his sister. “But my arms are too small. I can give her only my strength and my affection, but in the end, it’s up to her Creator whether she lives or . . . or dies.” Pippa locked eyes with him. “Some battles we simply can’t—we can’t win. But maybe we can fight some things. We can fight—fight Georgiana Farnsworth.”

  Jake’s silence gave fuel to Pippa’s fledgling determination.

  “We can prove we love Lily and she’s not abused. We can try to convince Lily to eat and to live. I’ll . . . I’ll help. I will.”

  The desperation in her timid declaration sparked something in Jake’s look. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to contemplate her. Maybe it was the fact that she had been born to the circus. Pippa knew he could see it on her face and hear it in the tremble of her words. The circus flowed through Pippa like vengeance flowed through him. That insatiable need to attach themselves to a cause, to justice, to protecting what they loved. To have someone fight for them. To be seen.

  “Clive would say that God can move in mighty ways.” Jake offered his own version of tentative faith.

  Pippa bit her lip. Penn must have sensed her anguish, as the dog pressed against her legs. Terriers were loyal, fierce protectors. Fitting that Penn joined their circle.

  “I can’t see Him move. I never have.” Pippa reached for Penn, and the dog whined, nudging her hip.

  Jake raked his fingers through his hair, dragging them down the back of his neck, over his jaw, and on to his beard. He was agitated. He was—

  Pippa jumped violently as Jake’s fist slammed into the wall of Lily’s pen.

  Again.

  And again.

  He pulled his fist back for a third time, but Pippa launched to her feet and grabbed for his arm. It was foolhardy to wrestle with someone like Jake. But he froze, his muscles trembling beneath her hands, a trickle of blood from the torn skin of his knuckles, running down the back of his hand onto Pippa’s.

  “I know, I know . . .” Pippa could only whisper, could only relate with the words she longed someone would let her admit aloud without judgment. “It’s awful to never see God change a person, to never see Him intervene. It’s a horrible existence. I’ve cried to Him many a time and nothing changes. It all stays so silent. Does He even see us?”

  Jake lowered his arm a bit, but Pippa kept her hands wrapped around his wrist. He stared ahead, into the wall, as if seeing another time, another place, another person.

  “I’ve asked God ‘why?’” Jake rasped. “Why would He allow Bridgette to be brutally attacked? But I get it now. I’ve been training for this. To make the man get the justice he deserves. To make him suffer as others have. I only hope God stands behind me when my chance comes. And it will.” Jake blinked a few times, breaking his stare. He looked down at Pippa as he lowered his arm, becoming aware that Pippa held his wrist with both hands. “I know it, Pippa. My chance will come. I can sense it in my gut.”

  She released her grip on him, very aware his blood was smeared on her fingertips. She wanted to say he deserved justice. That Bridgette deserved it. But it warred inside of her. Would that heal, though? Justice. Or would it only leave him unsatisfied?

  Jake noticed his blood staining her skin and reached for his pocket, tugging out a handkerchief.

  Pippa watched him take her fingers. He stepped closer, looking down at them and touching his handkerchief to them.

  “If you find him—whoever hurt your sister—will you feel better once you’ve . . . once you’ve done whatever it is you need to do?” Her words tripped out as his warm skin brushed hers. Tenderly he wiped his blood from her hand.

  His expression darkened. “I hope I will.”

  Pippa watched him dab the last of the blood away. Without pause, Pippa fluidly took the handkerchief from his hand and reached for him again. He let her take his hand in hers and turn it so the knuckles were visible. “Why did you go after Forrest? Outside? He was only trying to—”

  “Control you?” Jake adjusted his footing in the straw, which drew him a step closer. Pippa held her breath as she wrapped Jake’s kerchief around his bloodied knuckles.

  “It’s Forrest’s right to—lead me.” Even Pippa could hear the defeat in her voice.

  “There’s a difference between leading and dominating. What do you want, Pippa? That’s what he should be asking. What are your dreams? What do you think?”

  Pippa released
Jake’s hand, the makeshift bandage tied firmly. She couldn’t fathom Forrest ever asking her those questions.

  The pause was awkward. Penn eyed Jake with the suspicious look of a guard dog. Jake didn’t seem uncomfortable under the dog’s assessment. He seemed familiar with it, respectful, and stepped far enough away from Pippa so he wasn’t seen as a threat by Penn.

  “I know you want to be here, Pippa,” Jake acknowledged, “but it’s not safe. Not here.”

  “Georgiana wants to ruin my father. She’s no vendetta against me. I’m in no danger.” The elephant’s trunk lifted and batted at her dress.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Jake massaged his wrist with his good hand. “My sister—she wasn’t the first, you know? It’s happened before.”

  A coldness settled over Pippa. Foreboding. She shook it away and stroked Lily’s trunk. “I need to be here. For Lily. To stop my cousin Franny from being ridiculous.” She deflected.

  “Your cousin?”

  “Didn’t you see her?” Pippa’s brow furrowed. She tilted her head, confused. Franny had been rather obvious, even among the throng. Her silly floating and laughter as though she were at a carnival or a dance.

  “I don’t know.” Jake frowned. “Who is she?”

  “The young woman with the dark hair, wearing the dress of emerald green.”

  Jake’s reaction was simply a shake of his head.

  “She was twirling?” Pippa offered.

  “Twirling?”

  “Smiling and twirling.” Pippa waited for Jake to search his memory. There had been young, old, middle-aged women. Signs. Circus staff. Her father. He had to have seen Franny during the chaos, dancing and trailing Georgiana like a rebellious ballerina.

  Instead, Jake fixed his gaze on her. Pippa shifted. It seemed he was unintimidated by the silence between them. By the distance or by the closeness. It felt as if he would look at her all day. Sear her image into his brain. Pippa knew when he spoke, he would only be honest. That Jake Chapman didn’t know how to make his words pretty, how to dance around the truth. He knew only straightforward honesty.

  She was not mistaken, and his words branded her soul.

  “I saw only you, Pippa.”

  Chapter twenty-four

  saw only you.”

  Pippa couldn’t look away from Jake Chapman, nor could she surmise if he was sincere or just being polite. No one had ever seen only her. Pippa swallowed back the hope that rose in her throat, the expectation that maybe, for the first time, someone had seen past everyone into her heart.

  But no. He’d been focused on her because of Lily. Sweet Lily.

  The elephant calf’s trunk curled around her arm. The trunk’s strong muscle and coarse hide helped bring Pippa back to reality. She turned away from Jake, from his gray eyes that reminded her of Penn’s fur, warm and homey. She tried to squelch the image of his broad chest, tanned forearms, and light-brown hair. His beard, so rugged, defining his square jaw. He emanated strength, vitality, ferocity, and the conundrum of aching tenderness that didn’t equate well with the temperament of a fighter.

  “Where is she?” Her father’s firm command matched the clomping of his feet on the elephant barn floorboards.

  “Richard, hold up!” Forrest’s voice chased him.

  Pippa leapt back from Lily and clutched for Penn. She met Jake’s eyes. He stepped into the aisle, his shoulders squared.

  Ernie arrived first. The elephant trainer must have been summoned back from his afternoon off. He took in Lily’s relaxed state, and surprise registered on his face when he saw her trunk curled around Pippa’s waist. She melted into the elephant while Penn reaffirmed her presence by leaning against Pippa’s leg.

  “What are you doing here?” Her father’s bark at Jake echoed, and an elephant down the row answered with a snort.

  The reality of the circus turmoil shattered any respite she had found in the barn with Jake and the animals. Forrest reached Ripley’s side just as Clive poked his head around the corner, chest heaving from chasing after the taller men.

  Richard Ripley shoved Jake aside, and Jake jerked his shoulder away. His eyes grew hard. Pippa noticed his jaw clench, and she winced, silently begging him. No more fights. No more thrown fists. Especially not against her father.

  “Pippa, come.”

  Pippa eyed her father’s outstretched hand. She reached up absently and fingered her short hair that tickled her chin.

  Penn whined.

  Ernie’s eyes darted between Pippa and her father, and then he held up his hand with a frantic gesture. “Wait, Mr. Ripley, please.” Ernie hurried into the stall. “You need to consider this.”

  “Consider what?” Ripley snapped.

  “You need to look at what’s in front of you,” Ernie insisted, swiping his hand across the top of his balding head, gesturing toward Pippa and Lily.

  Richard leveled his black glare on Ernie but stretched his arm in the direction of Jake. “I do see what’s in front of me! I see my niece outside acting like a wanton hussy. I see my daughter here carousing with that—that man. I see a complete lack of control over this place. And you know what? I am to blame. For not doing anything about it. For letting it get this far out of hand.”

  Ernie stilled.

  Forrest leveled a stern eye on Pippa.

  Jake stood stiff, controlled. Very, frighteningly controlled.

  Richard Ripley crossed his arms, his suit coat, tailored for his trim frame. “You’re dismissed.” He leveled his declaration on Jake, as though Jake was to blame for the chaos of the day in its entirety.

  “No!” Clive argued.

  Penn whined and leaned into Pippa. “But, Father—” Then she snapped her mouth shut at Forrest’s stern shake of his head.

  Ernie intervened. “Sir, please. I trust Jake’s ability to care for Lily. And not just her, but the other elephants. I need him.”

  “You trust that man? He attacked Mr. Landstrom instead of helping cease that nonsensical display of female poppycock. And he was seen at the speakeasy instead of seeing to Lily’s birth! What foolish notion do you have that would give you reason to trust the man?” Richard Ripley’s mustache bobbed as his words grew more direct, more pointed.

  Pippa dared a look in Jake’s direction. He was brewing. She could tell.

  “That’s not the full story. Jake isn’t to blame for what happened to Lily. Not entirely. Some folks—someone needed assistance that night.” Ernie held up a hand to deter the conversation further.

  “Sure. Some spiflicated jack who couldn’t walk straight enough to get home.” Ripley crossed his arms over his chest. “Or rather, it was probably a whore. Don’t shake your head at me! I know my onions. I know what’s going on around here, and trust me, I’m not above calling the authorities on our own folks.”

  Pippa shot a glance at Jake. He remained tight-lipped. He wasn’t going to out Patty as the one who’d needed his assistance that night. The night Jake had left the elephant mother in labor to go intervene on behalf of his friend.

  “All that’s past,” Ernie declared, his small eyes sparking. “Do you see this?” He pointed at Pippa. Gestured with a sweep of his hand the length of Lily’s trunk as it remained wrapped around Pippa’s waist. Bringing attention to the blink of the long-lashed calf’s eyes and the fact that Lily’s mouth was tipped up. Just a bit. A small elephant smile.

  And now they were all looking at her. Pippa cringed. She wasn’t keen on being the center of attention, but Ernie was trailing his hand down Lily’s trunk and stopping a discreet distance away from where it curled around Pippa in an embrace.

  “We need your daughter.” Ernie’s statement was followed by silence. “Lily responds to her like she doesn’t to me or Jake. Pippa’s presence here might be the best thing toward ensuring Lily’s survival. But she needs Jake here too. He can offer the focused care that I cannot possibly give Lily. I have the other elephants to care for.”

  “There are other menagerie workers in the employ
of Bonaventure Circus.” Forrest’s observation was accurate.

  Clive stepped forward, leaning back and forth on each foot. “Yes, but no one knows them like Jake.”

  “I need Jake. I especially need your daughter,” Ernie said again.

  Pippa glanced at Forrest, who was fixated on her father as if waiting for his reaction and direction on how to respond. Clive held his undeterred attention on Richard Ripley’s face. Jake leaned back against the doorframe of the stall and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Goodness. He winked at her. It was deliberate, not the tic of emotion she’d seen in some eyes before. Pippa swept her vision off him and back to Penn. She needed security and Penn offered such. The dog gave her fingers a reassuring lick, and Pippa patted Penn’s head in response. Lily hadn’t released her waist. It was as if the elephant calf had attached herself to her new matriarch and had no intention of letting go.

  Ripley broke the stunned silence and gave a snort of derision. “My daughter is not an employee of this circus, and she never will be.”

  Ernie tugged on his tweed vest. The wiry man had nerve. He raised up to face the man who bankrolled his circus. “I think you owe me this.”

  “I think you push too far. You’re an elephant trainer. That’s it.” Ripley’s words had an edge to them.

  “Not after today’s ruckus,” Ernie said. “That was your niece parading herself like a peacock with that Farnsworth lady, wasn’t it?”

  “How dare you!”

  “I oversee the elephants, sir, and there is no abuse. But now your own kin are insinuating just that. It’s a blot on my service to the circus, and if it’s not erased, it could ruin my career.”