Kiss an Angel(60)

He nudged her again, his brown eyes baleful. She steeled herself against the sweep of those impossibly curly lashes. “I’m sorry, but it’s going to take time. You have a lot to make up for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the menagerie.” She turned to walk away.

He bleated. Pitiful. Heartbroken. Every boy in the world who’d lost it all for love.

Her steps slowed and her heart softened as she saw the woebegone baby elephant with his sagging ears and mournful brown eyes. His defeated little trunk dragged on the ground, the tip curling in the dust.

“You brought this on yourself,” she pointed out,

A tiny, plaintive trumpet.

“I tried to be nice.”

Another pathetic trumpet. And then, to her astonishment, she saw tears begin to trickle from his eyes. Digger had told her that elephants were one of the most emotional animals in existence and they’d been known to cry, but she hadn’t believed him. Now, as she watched the tears running down over Tater’s wrinkled skin, her resentment dissolved.

For the second time that day, she forgot her aversion to petting animals. She reached out her hand and stroked Tater’s trunk. “That’s not fair. You’re as big a crybaby as I am.”

His head perked up and he took a few tentative steps toward her. When he came close, he stopped as if to ask for permission before he rubbed his head against her shoulder.

Once again he nearly sent her flying, although this time the gesture was one of affection. She rubbed his forehead. “Don’t think that just because I forgive you I’m going to be a pushover. You have to mind your manners or it’s all over between us.”

He snuggled against her as gently as a kitten.

“No more swats. No nasty bathroom tricks.”

He let out a soft puff of air, and she surrendered. “You silly baby.”

As Daisy lost her heart, Alex stood by the back door of the big top and watched it all happening. He saw the elephant curl his trunk over her arm and smiled to himself. Whether Daisy knew it or not, she’d just made a friend for life. He chuckled and headed toward the red wagon.



Heather had never been so miserable. She sat at the kitchen table of their Airstream and stared down at her day’s schoolwork, but the print on the page wouldn’t come into focus. Like the other circus kids, she was doing her schoolwork by correspondence through the Calvert School in Baltimore, a place that specialized in teaching children who couldn’t go to regular school. Every few weeks a fat envelope arrived full of books, papers, and tests.

Sheba had gotten into the habit of supervising Heather’s schoolwork, but Sheba’s own formal education hadn’t been terrific, and she was pretty lame at anything except monitoring the tests. Heather was having trouble with geometry, and she’d gotten a D on her last English composition.

Now she pushed her book aside and stared down at the piece of notebook paper in front of her that she’d been doodling on. Mrs. Alex Markov. Heather Markov. Heather Pepper Markov.

Shit. Why had he let her do it? Why had Alex let Daisy kiss him like that right out there in front of everyone? Heather had wanted to die when she saw that kiss. She hated Daisy’s guts, and the best thing about these past few weeks had been seeing her all dirty and nasty from hauling shit. She deserved to haul shit.

Over and over Heather tried to ease her guilt about what she’d done to Daisy by telling herself that Daisy deserved what had happened to her. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t fit in. And she should never have married Alex. Alex had been Heather’s.

She’d fallen in love with him six weeks ago when she’d first set eyes on him. Unlike her father, he always had time to talk to her. He didn’t mind having her follow him around, and before Daisy had come along, he’d even taken her with him sometimes when he’d gone to run errands. Once when they were in Jacksonville, they’d gone into this art gallery together and he’d explained stuff to her about the pictures. He also encouraged her, to talk about her mother and had said couple of things about why her dad was so stubborn.

But as much as she loved him, she knew he still thought of her as a kid. Lately she’d been thinking that maybe if he’d realized she was a woman, he’d have looked at her differently and not married Daisy.

Once again, guilt stabbed at her. She hadn’t planned to take that money and hide it in Daisy’s suitcase, but she’d gone into the red wagon, and Daisy had taken that phone call, and the cash drawer had been open, and it had just happened.

It was wrong, but she kept telling herself it wasn’t too wrong. Alex didn’t want Daisy—Sheba said the same thing. Daisy was going to make him miserable, and because of what Heather had done, he could find it out right now instead of later on.

But the kiss she’d witnessed this morning told her Daisy wasn’t going to let him go that easy. Heather still couldn’t believe the way she’d thrown herself at him. Alex didn’t need her! He didn’t need Daisy when he could have Heather.

But how was he supposed to know the way she felt about him when she’d never told him? She pushed aside her books and jumped up. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to make him see that she wasn’t a kid. She had to make him understand that he didn’t need Daisy.

Without giving herself time for second thoughts, she rushed from the trailer and headed toward the red wagon.