“Then keep me safe. Please, keep me safe.”
Everything inside of her crumbled. Into pieces of shattered heartbreak now scooped and held in Jake’s palm. He drew her close until they could feel each other’s heartbeat, in unison now.
Jake laid his palms on either side of her face. She felt rivulets of rain trace down her forehead from her drenched hair and dissolve as they met with the heat from his hands. He tilted her head and rested his forehead against hers.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he rasped.
“I know.” Pippa swept her eyes closed as he raised his mouth and pressed a kiss against the bridge of her nose, between her eyes. Tender. Hesitant. She wasn’t his. She couldn’t be his. They were so far apart, and yet tonight they were almost one as their embrace fused them into a unit.
He drew away only a millimeter, and then his lips touched the corner of her mouth, nudging, begging for her reciprocation.
And she did.
Pippa formed her lips into his. They tingled as they met, and she was no longer in control. He massaged her mouth, gentle, then desperate until his hand pressed against the back of her head and pulled her further into him. He claimed her mouth, made her his, for this moment. This wild, stormy, urgent moment when the forces that pulled them apart dissipated in the power of their emotion.
They sank in a fluid motion toward the straw-strewn floor, his mouth never stopping its caress. Jake pulled her into his arms. She sat in his embrace while the storm raged outside. Safe. And she fit there. Even as he withdrew to a chaste hold, her seated half in his lap, her back against his chest and his chin resting on her shoulder, they watched the raging storm outside. It had not subsided—wasn’t subsiding. But for now, Pippa didn’t care. She was seen. She was seen for being simply who she was. Pippa. No surname, no circus crown or gypsy rags. She was just Pippa. And he? He was just Jake. They were both lost souls crying to be heard and finally finding someone who would listen.
“I saw you and him last night.”
Patty Luchent’s appearance beside her on the walk was preceded by a whiff of cigarette smoke mixed with flowery perfume.
Pippa would have walked faster had her leg not prevented it. Her nerves were raw. Raw with emotions that ranged from shame to exhilaration. Penn trotted beside her, the only blissfully unaware creature at the moment. She smiled her dog-smile. Happy. Content, having spent a night in the warm horse barn.
“We didn’t—” she started, but Patty’s red-nailed hand gave a graceful wave.
“Oh, I know, doll.” Patty grabbed hold of Pippa’s arm. “Hey-a, slow down. Wasting your energy on walking fast isn’t going to change anything. There’s no shame in finding love.”
Pippa jerked her head up to lock eyes with the pretty seamstress. Patty’s bobbed hair was held tight by a band around her forehead. Her dangling earrings caught the morning sunlight on their platinum dangles.
“We didn’t find love,” Pippa corrected. Although, she had defied her father, and in the heat of the moment succumbed to Jake’s caress like a wanton woman. Warmth spread over her cheeks.
“Listen here.” Patty pulled Pippa off the walk to an iron bench that posed beneath a flaming orange maple tree. She pushed Pippa down and sat next to her. Patty’s fingers fumbled with something in Pippa’s hair, and she pulled out a piece of straw, flicking it to the grass. “It’s all right to be your own woman. To make up your own mind and think for yourself.”
Pippa ducked her head. She was sure she shouldn’t say out loud what crossed her mind. That Patty’s independence also came with a price. The rumors of her own waywardness, the guesthouse by the train depot, potential lovers, even the rumors she’d entertained Al Capone himself.
Patty chuckled, her smile spreading, all too knowing. “Ohhhhh, yes. Well, my grandmother always used to say, ‘If we were all good and flawless, then Jesus wasted His blood.’”
Pippa couldn’t help but smile a bit at the comment. She lifted her eyes.
Patty took a long draw from her cigarette perched on the end of an elegant black holder. She gazed into the distance, at the circus buildings, the river behind them, and the rails beyond that. Her eyes shifted to the depot and rested on it.
“I’m getting out of here,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Pippa tried to tamp down the night previous, the memory of Jake’s kisses, the rain, the way his strength molded into her and infused her with confidence, and the way she awoke in the straw not far from Lily with Jake standing over them, a cigar in his mouth. He’d been watching the door, not them. Pippa had left in a flurry. Muttered words. Awkward embarrassment. If she was seen, her newfound free will would quickly turn into rumors like those that circulated around Patty Luchent.
“It’s not good for me here. Not anymore.” Patty blew a puff of smoke from her lips. “Funny how things can be seen as a spectacle, whether circus or soul, and yet the truth is never really seen.”
She was being cryptic.
Pippa waited.
Patty dropped her gaze from the depot and offered Pippa a reassuring smile that reached the corners of her blue eyes. “There’s a darkness here. At Bonaventure Circus. Jake knows it. He’s experienced it. Lived it.”
Pippa stilled.
“He’s always had my back, you know? Mine and Benard’s, even Clive’s. But even good fellas like him can’t outdo the darkness. No matter how strong he thinks he is.” Patty’s kohl-lined eyes studied Pippa for a moment. “And it isn’t always what you want it to be, darling. The circus is a place of illusions. Of mirrors that alter who we truly are. We may be a family—a community—but we also hide our secrets, even from each other.”
Patty’s face shadowed as she took a long draw from her cigarette. “Even I hide my own secrets. But,” she continued, her voice brightening, “I’ll be gone long before they catch up to me. I’ve got Georgiana to thank for that.”
“Georgiana Farnsworth?” Pippa hadn’t realized Patty would be associated with someone like Georgiana.
Patty gave another very knowing smile. “She’s a misjudged soul too, you know. Her heart’s in the right place, but she sees atrocities where there ain’t none and doesn’t see the real ones that hide away.”
“Like what?” Her breath sounded wispy, even to her own ears. Pippa envied the confidence in Patty’s shoulders as she drew in a deep breath and squared them, tapping the cigarette so the ash fell to the ground.
“All the bad and the ugly. Like I’ve been saying already, and I’m not talking about freaks and sideshows. You know, you’ve talked with Jake. His sister. The others.”
“Others?” Pippa’s throat tightened, like a hand was squeezing it. A bad omen. An imminent threat.
Patty’s eyes narrowed, and again she studied Pippa for a long moment. “You really don’t see it, do you? Big cities. Girls, power . . . aw, never mind, doll. You’re better off being innocent. Georgiana is helping me get right with life. I’m going to leave Bluff River and this circus—tonight. While the Autumn Bluff River Formal is lording its fancies over us peons, I’ll be on a train. I’ve told Georgiana what I know. She can handle the truth from there.”
Another reassuring smile. Patty held them as treasures and bestowed them on Pippa like fairy dust.
“The truth?” Pippa echoed, feeling remarkably dim-witted.
“You just stay close to Jake, okay, darling?” Patty tucked a short strand of hair behind Pippa’s ear in a sisterly gesture. “Sometimes heroes like him and Georgiana hide in plain sight and no one sees them for who they really are. They’re our angels, sent to earth by God himself, I’d say.”
Patty rose, her straight dress like a long sheath of gray over her thin body. But her face was brilliant with confidence. She looked down at Pippa. “Go home, Pippa. Go to the Formal and bid your life farewell. Then become what you were meant to be. Only don’t do it here either. The circus and its dark corners can ruin a soul. You were saved from it once. Don’t come back.”
“But wha
t if my family is here? Here at Bonaventure?” Pippa breathed.
“The truth?” Patty took a thoughtful draw from her cigarette. “The truth is that Bonaventure . . . it’s not even a tiny bit of what you’re expecting.” She turned and started down the path away from Pippa, but then hesitated and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and Pippa?”
“Yes?” Pippa had the strange desire to flee with Patty. To forsake it all, run to the depot, board the next train, and only look back to see the silhouette of her father in his office window on the depot’s second floor. Watching her with no intention to chase after or to bring her back home.
“I know about the Watchman, Pippa.”
Blood rushed to Pippa’s head. Her eyes widened.
Patty gave her a firm nod. “Stay close to Jake, darling. Stay close.” She kissed her fingertips, turned them toward Pippa, then proceeded down the walk toward the train depot and toward her new life.
Pippa wanted to rush after Patty. Grab her and make her tell her everything. But Pippa sensed it would be futile. Patty was finished with her. She’d given her goodbye before she left for parts unknown.
How she knew—and what she knew—Pippa couldn’t reconcile. But the way in which Patty gave direction convinced Pippa to follow through with her instructions. Because if Patty could break away and start a new life, so too could Pippa.
The violin shuddered its haunting melody. Beautiful yet lonely. The kind of lonely that mimicked Pippa’s heartbeat. She had stood in the face of her father tonight. Stunned him by hooking her fingers around the elbow of a manure-shoveling circus laborer. Infuriated him by shunning Forrest, an egotistical replica of her father. Perhaps it had been foolhardy to request Jake meet her at the dance and then use him to strike out at her father. But when she had suggested it, Jake’s hesitation was short-lived. They both knew why. That moment in the barn had seared itself on them both. From here on out, they were united.
And here she was, enveloped in her silk and sequins, diamond tiara slid around her head, her strawberry-blond hair curled short and against her face. Pippa had successfully ostracized herself from her father, maybe for good. And her mother? Victoria Ripley slipped in and out from among the attendees, graceful, soft-spoken, and always stealing hesitant glances at her husband. She wanted his approval. She was what Pippa would have continued to be were it not for people like Patty, Clive, and Jake. Recognizing that Pippa was more than a player’s piece on a game board. She had value, and while not always strong enough to stand alone, she was strong enough to stand nonetheless.
Pippa reached out and fingered a leaf on a potted palm, the veranda behind her. A breeze drifted through the open doors and chilled her shoulders.
Jake’s breath was warm against her neck as he came up behind her. His mouth flirted with her ear when he whispered, “Why aren’t you dancing?”
Moisture stuck in Pippa’s throat. Maybe she should have clarified with Jake that coming to the dance didn’t mean participating in one. Her leg, twisted in all its ugliness, made dancing for her as mock-worthy as the bearded lady who bore the deprecating laughter of spectators summer after summer.
His nose touched her earlobe. He was bold. Brash even. Jake seemed to come alive with passion when challenged. That he had slicked his hair back from his handsome, broad forehead, trimmed his beard, and somehow encased his body in a tailored suit borrowed from the ringmaster stunned her, excited her, and terrified her all at the same time. Jake was powerful—when he wanted to be.
“I can’t dance.” Pippa’s voice hitched.
“What a waste.” His chuckle covered her skin in gooseflesh. Jake’s hand pressed against the small of her back. Uncouth and inappropriate, but oh, so right. “Let me teach you.”
She dared not look up to where she knew Forrest had rarely taken his eyes from her. She dared not look over her shoulder to see the brewing storm that was her father. Jake was so close, their lips were sure to tangle, and that would just be so wonderful and scandalous.
“Dancing can’t be all that hard.” His chuckle sent staccato rhythms and toyed with her heartbeat.
“I-I can’t.” Pippa’s eyes burned. But oh, how she wanted to. Dance in his arms with the grace of Franny. Her cousin flitted in front of her, a swath of peacock blues and greens. Graceful. Beautiful. Natural-born to the family tree and exactly where Franny belonged.
Pippa sucked in a breath as Jake’s arms slipped around her waist from behind. He pulled her close to his chest. Her shoulders brushed his torso. She could smell the fresh air that clung to his outdated evening coat. The palm plant stuffed into the corner with them hid their embrace, but barely.
Jake swayed to the left, pulling her with him. His arms tightened their grip at her waist. His lips played with her ear. “It’s just like being in a boxing ring. Light on your feet. This way, then that.”
Pippa nodded. Yes. Sway. She could sway.
“And then you duck a blow.” Jake dipped her gently to the left, just enough to make it more of a dance than a dodge. “Then you come up for air.”
He brought her upright. What air? She couldn’t breathe.
Pippa’s bad leg was shaking.
“Are you all right?” Jake didn’t stop the intimate sway. He didn’t remove his arms.
“I’m fine,” Pippa lied. She wasn’t fine. She was celebrating a romantic interlude so fragile that she was like Juliet, who cherished her moment with Romeo for fear it would be her last.
Yet here they were.
Jake’s lips touched the base of her ear.
Pippa held her breath.
His mouth trailed to the crook between her neck and shoulder and rested there, unmoving. Cherishing. Daring. Challenging opposition.
And Pippa knew as her eyes lifted and locked with Forrest’s that this moment would crumble around them into a thousand tiny pieces, irreparable. She let her eyes close. She would breathe deep of this moment. Before her past crashed into her uncertain future.
Chapter thirty-seven
Do you want to be the talk of the town in the News Republic tomorrow?” Forrest’s scathing denunciation ripped into Pippa’s already roiling conscience. His hand on her upper arm squeezed to the point of pinching her flesh. Pippa staggered next to him as he pulled her onto the veranda. She cast an anxious glance over her shoulder. Jake had not left her side for the past hour. He had seemed to defend her, and his demeanor challenged the men who’d previously oppressed her. A silent challenge. One that Forrest was fast to meet the instant Jake reluctantly left her side.
A few moments before, he had been summoned with the delivery of a message from the circus grounds. His eyes skimmed it, concern darkened them, and he crumpled the note in his palm.
“Did you know that Patty was leaving the circus?” he’d whispered in her ear.
Pippa looked up at him and couldn’t hide the truth. “Yes.” The look in his eyes stung a bit. She could see the affection he held for Patty. The loyalty. He’d jammed the message in his pocket. “I need to—Benard messaged me. I can’t let Patty leave without—”
His stammering for an explanation told Pippa so much and so little at the same time. That Jake had looked out for Patty was no secret. He’d been doing it probably long before the night he’d left during Lily’s birth to help her out of a scrape.
“Go.” Pippa nodded. It wasn’t fair to try to keep Jake.
“I at least need to check on something. I won’t be long.” With that, he had slipped away.
It was no surprise then that Forrest pounced the moment Jake left her alone. The dark brooding of his eyes and the rigid demeanor of his body told Pippa he would be Richard Ripley’s voice tonight.
“Let me be.” Pippa tried to shake off his hold.
Forrest released her only when she had backed against the stone banister. Light glowed from the ballroom and silhouetted Forrest’s shoulders. Crickets chirruped from the yard below and matched the rapid beating of Pippa’s heart.
Forrest’s finger pointed toward t
he ballroom, his other hand propped on his waist. “I would have thought you of all people would know how important tonight is. To regain the good graces of this community. Instead you’re cavorting in the corner with the brute who started it all. If you think that will go unnoticed, you’re a fool.”
Pippa should have been used to Forrest’s sour insults by now. But she wasn’t. She placed her hand over her chest and tried to calm herself. “We’re over, Forrest.”
She was breaking their engagement. It was both freeing and terrifying the moment the words escaped her lips.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need me.”
“I don’t, Forrest. Not anymore.”
“I don’t have time for this behavior, Pippa. Not with Miss Farnsworth here in attendance and ready to cause a rouse.” Forrest shot a glance into the ballroom, as if Georgiana were about to set free a giant python. He jabbed his finger toward her chest but didn’t touch her. “Reform your behavior at once.”
“I’ve no behavior to reform.” She straightened and glared at her intended.
Forrest harrumphed, scoffing. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and his jacket bunched up behind his arms. “The circus is in disarray since Georgiana’s rallies and the sabotage on the tent. And it all started the night Jake Chapman decided to abandon the elephant calf. What else is his magic touch going to light on fire?”
She blushed.
His eyes darkened. “You are playing with that fire, aren’t you, Pippa?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pippa turned her face to avoid Forrest.
“Don’t you know who he is?” Forrest gripped her chin and forced her to face him.
Pippa whimpered. She twisted her neck to try to release his hold on her, but to no avail. His features were stern, intense and insistent. “I told you that I would take care of you. I would protect you. Stay away from Jake Chapman, and for all that is holy, stay away from the circus.”
“Stay away from the circus?” Pippa winced as Forrest’s fingers bit into her jawline. She felt claustrophobic in the circle of his arms.
The Haunting at Bonaventure Circus Page 31
