Authors: Colleen Quinn
“I see.” Actually, he did. Judging from last night’s audience, these farmers and homesteaders worked long and hard for their dollar. They wouldn’t take too kindly to being bilked out of even one small act. “What do you normally do under these circumstances?”
“As manager, I would step in—”
“Done,” he said smoothly. “As new manager, I cannot begin by shirking a responsibility. I will do it.”
“Oh, but you can’t!” Rosemary looked at him in astonishment. “This is William’s act, and as his assistant—”
“If you can do it, then I can,” Michael said impatiently, well aware of her tactic. God, if he let her get away with this, he would never set a precedent and would have the title in name only. He’d walked into enough business circumstances just like this, where the former inept boss refused to let go of the reins of power. It was a situation he’d learned not to tolerate for even a day, and at Carney’s he’d not stand for it one moment. “I am manager now, and if that means stepping in until we find a replacement, then I will. That’s enough on the subject.”
Rosemary sighed in resignation. The man was determined, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
Taking note of her defeat, Michael put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard, Miss Carney. This is a lot of responsibility for a woman. You should be glad to shed it. And when I’ve had the opportunity to turn the circus into a real profit center, we can all walk away happy.”
He mistook the glitter in her eyes as resignation, and she turned on her heel, bluntly peeling his hand from her shoulder. “We have less than an hour until showtime. I’ll take you to your tent.”
She marched ahead of him, her enormous shoes flapping and her clown suit billowing with each step. The outfit effectively hid her body, making him wonder if the curves he had felt last night were just a figment of his imagination. Michael followed her, trying to keep a pleased smile from his face. It had been easier than he thought. Even a Carney could be defeated, if one just used the right weapons.
“This is it?” He glanced around the interior of the tent. Dark and dim, it was one of the smallest and least attractive of the circus enclosures and was positioned right next to the elephants. Four cots lined the walls, and a deck of cards, empty whiskey glasses, and tobacco, littered the dirt floor. A basin of water and several towels stood beside the tent pole, and trunks full of costumes and work clothes gaped in the corners. The smell of pachyderms mingled with the odor of canvas and whiskey and the pungent scent of hay.
Rosemary nodded. “This is the only available tent, and that’s because Bobby left. He was William’s assistant.”
She stared at him, her green eyes challenging, daring him to object or to act like the citified fop she perceived him to be. A strong breeze blew, and the smell of elephant droppings nearly choked him. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped back outside, scanning the rows of tents with a critical gaze.
“Where’s yours?”
Rosemary marched down the narrow path to the end, just as he had done last night. There was Carney’s tent, one of the smallest and least obtrusive. He understood all of that now. Rosemary was one of the few women in the circus, and apparently unmarried at that. The implications of that fact struck him with full force, as well as the reason for her shelter’s location. No one could barge into her tent without passing all the others first. That the circusmen had claimed this privilege was something he didn’t doubt.
“Whose is that?” He pointed to another little tent, slightly larger than hers but also well positioned.
“Griggs’s. He’s been with the circus the longest and has certain compensations. He was with my father when he started the troupe.” There was pride in her voice, as well as affection. For some reason, that annoyed him, and he gestured to the tent.
“I’ll take that one. Tell him to move to Bobby’s old bunk.”
“But you can’t! Griggs can’t talk. He…prefers to be alone.”
“So do I,” Michael said smoothly. “You seem to be forgetting that I own this place. I have no desire to bed down with circus folk, particularly next to elephant dung. The only other acceptable tent is yours, yet I understand why you require your own.”
She glared, but there was nothing she could do. Now. “Fine, I will tell him. I’ll have one of the boys move his things. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I want hot water and clean towels. Who can show me what to do in the act?”
“William,” Rosemary said. “I’ll send for him.”
“Good.” Michael smiled as she marched furiously from the tent, understanding her anger. He’d established himself as the new manager and was just beginning to lay down the law. No one liked to lose, and apparently, Rosemary Carney was no exception.
“Here, just slip into this.” William, who looked remarkably like Dan Rice’s Uncle Sam, even down to the white beard and long legs, proffered a box containing a ridiculous costume of red, white, and blue spangles. There was even a bright red bow tie and a blue sparkling derby to complete the ensemble. Michael stared at the outfit, incredulous.
“Surely you don’t mean for me to wear that?”
William shrugged, blinking through thick white brows. “My assistant always wears this costume. It helps for visibility,” the older man explained.
Michael eyed the garment with disgust. “Well, I won’t wear it. I can’t imagine a grown man parading around in that. Did she put you up to this?”
“Who?” William was growing more puzzled by the moment.
“That jester, Carney! This was her idea, wasn’t it? She thought to make a fool out of me in public!”
“No, Rosemary wouldn’t—”
“The hell she wouldn’t,” Michael said in smug satisfaction. That’s exactly what she’d planned, damned if she didn’t. No one could convince him that the real Bobby had worn this getup in front of a jeering crowd. “You can tell Carney that I will wear my own clothes.” He grinned, imagining her disappointment when that part of her plan failed. “Now, tell me what I’m supposed to do.”
“It’s easy,” William said gruffly. “Jake, one of the roustabouts, will be with you and tell you everything you need to know, step by step. Just follow his directions. Any farmboy from the audience could do it.”
“Fine.” Michael dipped into his own valise and withdrew a fine dinner suit along with a clean, white shirt. William started to protest but sensed that it would fall onto deaf ears. Taking the rejected costume, he picked his way out of the tent, bumping into the wall by accident, then righting himself and feeling for the tent flap. Michael was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice.
“L
ADIES AND GENTLEMEN
…children of all ages! Tonight’s performance will be one you’ll never forget. We have the Unprecedented Quadruped Quadrille, Astounding Aerial Artistry, Animated Animal Actors, and feats of daring like you’ve never seen before! I give you…the circus!”
On cue the clowns tumbled forth, along with the parade of elephants, trapeze performers, acrobats, and the lion tamer. Michael saw Rosemary look back at him, notice his costume, then glance sharply toward William, who seemed to ignore her. Instead of appearing thwarted as he’d anticipated, he noticed somewhat uneasily that she looked worried. She stopped to whisper something to Jake, and then hurried into the ring with the rest of the clowns.
The calliope started, the raucous music filling the night air. The crowd was at capacity, and there were even some people still standing in line, hoping to buy tickets. I was right about one thing, Michael thought—with proper management, this show could turn into a gold mine. He almost ached to see it happen.
The first acts finished, and then the clowns ran into the ring, distracting the crowd so that the roustabouts could disassemble the props and put up the new ones. Michael could see Rosemary tumbling from the horse, landing on her small round bottom, then rising to shake a fist at the seemingly participating mount. It was amazing that she hadn’t been hurt. Tension rose in him as she attempted to ride the horse again, landing once more on the floor.
“It’s your turn, mate,” Jake whispered as the roustabouts rolled a huge wheel into the center of the tent, mounting the circular chunk of wood into a metal bracket. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Michael adjusted his tie and followed the man out to the ring. The crowd roared, clapping as he entered the floor, and the spotlight encircled him like a halo.
For a split second he understood what this was all about. The applause was heady, even though he’d done nothing to earn it yet. For a man who’d spent his life sheltered in the best schools, the best homes, in the company of people whose background was identical to his own, to be in the presence of this bawdy spectacle and to feel the crowd’s adoration gave him a rush of exhilaration. He bowed, hearing the applause deepen, then he stepped up to the platform, almost giddy with the sensation.
“That’s good, mate. You’re a natural. Now, just put your hands in here. Don’t be afraid. They’re rubber knives, but the crowd don’t got to know that.”
Jake had briefed him earlier, and Michael was well prepared for the act. Apparently, William was getting along in years and no one wanted an accident, so they’d substituted sham knives for real. All he had to do was provide an appealing target.
“Lift up.” Jake fastened the leather brackets around one wrist, and then secured the other. “The wheel goes upside down, mate. You aren’t one to toss your lunch, are ye?”
“Not in the least,” Michael huffed, stretching his hand. “I thought I was replacing a small boy.”
“You are,” Jake agreed, fastening his feet. “I’ve adjusted for that. Young boys wanting to run away to the circus are the only ones Rose can get for this job. The others keep quitting.”
“But why, if it’s so easy?” Michael asked, but the words left his mouth as Jake gave the wheel a tug. His world inverted as the wheel slowly turned, and Michael felt the air leave his lungs as he faced the roof of the circus tent, his hair brushing the ground. Slowly the wheel turned once more, and he was upright, but dizzy and disoriented. He closed his eyes against the glare of the spotlight just as William stepped out, clad in a red, white, and blue spangled suit that was to match his.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Please fasten your eyes on the center of the floor. William will cause your blood to race as he whirls his blades with death-defying skill toward a living human being! See the wheel turn and the knives fly!”
The crowd hushed, and the band began a drumroll. William stood in the center of the floor, his right hand extended, a glittering knife posed between his thumb and forefinger. A hiss went through the air, and Michael choked, finding a metallic blade buried just beneath his armpit.
It was real. Damned real. He tested the blade with the edge of his arm, and the all too apparent metal sliced easily through his coat. The crowd roared, and Jake gave the wheel a tug, twirling him upside down. Too late, Michael realized just what the hell was going on. They’d tricked him, dammit! They’d all lied to him, and now he was strapped here, at the mercy of this madman throwing knives as if they were pins and he the cushion. Frantic, he called out to Jake to stop the damned thing, but another knife whirled through the air. This one landed right between his legs.
“Jesus Christ!” Michael gasped, glancing down in disbelief. The knife stuck out just below his crotch. When the wheel finally slowed enough to speak, he shouted to Jake.
“What the hell is he doing? I thought these knives were rubber!”
“I didn’t want to tell you the truth, mate,” Jake said, cranking the wheel once more. “But you have me worried, with that outfit and all. I don’t believe William can see you too well. He’s near blind, you know.”
“What!” The wheel spun and Michael’s heart was in his throat. The crowd drew in a breath as another knife sliced the air, cutting through his shirt, and landing just between his neck and his shoulder. A stinging sensation rent his arm, and he shouted once more.
“For Christ’s sake, stop this damned thing! The fool can’t see! He’ll kill me!”
“You might want to wiggle your fingers a little,” Jake replied calmly, turning the wheel once more. “Bobby used to do that to keep him on target.”
“I’ll kill you, I swear it! Get me down from this thing!” Michael’s shouts were drowned once more as the wheel spun, and another blade arced through the air. He closed his eyes, wincing and pulling away as far as the strap would let him. Belatedly he remembered to move his fingers, and he jiggled them frantically. The knife landed a good three feet away, in the dirt.
“Jake, please.” Pride completely gone, Michael begged the man. “I’ll give you a raise! The best tent! Whiskey! Just get me down from here!”
“We’re almost done, laddie,” Jake said, his soft voice amused. “That’s it, keep wiggling. You’re doing grand, mate, the crowd loves you.”
“I don’t give a damn about the crowd….” The wheel spun once more, and another knife sliced through the air. This one landed just below his ear, nicking the skin and cutting a lock of black hair as neatly as any barber. Michael saw the hair fall onto his chest, along with a drop of blood. Everything darkened, and in the distance he could hear the thunderous applause. Something buzzed in his ear, and he blissfully fainted.
“Get him some whiskey, dammit!” Zach yelled to one of the curious roustabouts. The boy hastened to do his bidding while Jake slapped some color back into Michael’s face.