Kiss an Angel(79)

She couldn’t resist walking over to them as they approached Sinjun’s cage, which was roped off to keep the visitors from getting too close. After smiling at the teacher, she addressed a pudgy little cherub in pink overalls who was regarding the tiger with awe.

“His name is Sinjun, and he’s a Siberian tiger. Siberians are the largest of all tigers.”

“Does he eat people?” the cherub asked.

“Not people, but he is a carnivore. That means he eats meat.”

The little boy next to her perked up. “My gerbil eats gerbil food.”

Daisy laughed.

The teacher smiled. “I’ll bet you know a lot about tigers. Would you mind telling the children a little bit about Sinjun?”

A ripple of excitement passed through her. “I’d love to!” She quickly sorted through everything she’d learned about the animals in her recent library trips and picked out the details they were most likely to understand. “A hundred years ago, tigers roamed free in lots of parts of the world, but that isn’t true anymore. People moved into the tigers’ home lands . . .” She kept the explanation about the tiger’s gradual extinction simple and was gratified to see the children hanging on to her words.

“Can we pet him?” one of them asked.

“No. He’s old and not very friendly, and he wouldn’t understand that you don’t want to hurt him. He’s not like a cat or a dog.”

She answered a number of other questions, including several about Sinjun’s bathroom habits that elicited a chorus of giggles. She listened to one child’s story about a dog who died and another’s announcement that he’d just gotten over chicken pox. They were so darling she could have easily spent all day talking with them.

As the class got ready to move on, the teacher thanked her effusively, and the cherub in pink overalls hugged her. Daisy felt as if she were floating on a cloud.

She was still watching them as she made her way to the trailer to pick up a quick bite of lunch when a familiar figure clad in dark brown trousers and a pale yellow polo shirt came out of the red wagon. She stopped walking, hardly able to believe what she saw. At the same time, she was conscious of her dirty work clothes and untidy hair, rumpled from Glenna’s latest grooming.

“Hello, Theodosia.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Her father was such a powerful figure in her mind that she seldom noticed he was rather slight in build, only inches taller than herself. He bore all the accessories of wealth with ease: silver gray hair expertly trimmed by a barber who visited his office once a week, an expensive watch, conservative Italian loafers with a discreet gold snaffle across the vamp. It was hard for her to imagine him ever forgetting his dignity long enough to fall in love with a fashion model and father an illegitimate child, but she was living proof that at one time in his life, her father had been human.

“I drove over to visit Alex.”

“Oh.” She did her best to hide her hurt that he hadn’t come to see her.

“I also wanted to check on you.”

“You did?”

“I wanted to make certain you were still with him. That you hadn’t done anything foolish.”

For a moment she wondered if Alex had told him about the stolen money, but then she knew that he wouldn’t. That certainty filled her with warmth.

“As you can see, I’m still here. If you’d like to come to the trailer with me, I can get you something to drink. Or I’ll fix you a sandwich if you’re hungry.”

“A cup of tea would be nice.”

She led him toward the trailer. He stopped walking when he saw its battered exterior. “Good God. Don’t tell me you actually live in this place.”

She felt oddly protective of her little home. “It’s not so bad inside. I’ve fixed it up.”

She opened the door and let him in, but despite the changes she’d made, he was no more impressed with the interior than he’d been with the exterior. “Alex could certainly have done better than this.”

Strangely enough, his criticism made her defensive. “It’s fine for us.”

His gaze lingered for a moment on the trailer’s only bed. She hoped the sight made him uncomfortable, but she couldn’t read his expression.

As she went to the stove to boil water for tea, the gingerly way he sat on the couch made it obvious he was afraid he’d catch some disease. She took the chair next to him while the water heated.

An awkward silence followed, broken finally by her father. “How are you and Alex getting on?”

“We’re doing all right”

“He’s quite a man. Not everyone could overcome their upbringing as he has. Did he ever tell you how we met?”

“He said you saved his life.”

“I don’t know about that, but when I found him, his uncle had him on the ground behind one of the trucks. He was holding him down with his foot while he brutalized him with a stock whip.”

She winced. Alex had told her he’d been abused, but hearing it from her father’s lips made it seem even more horrifying.

“Alex’s shirt was ripped. He had red welts across his back, some of them bleeding. His uncle was cursing him for a minor offense while he whipped him with all his strength.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her father to stop talking, but he went on. “The thing I most remember is that Alex was absolutely silent. He didn’t cry. He didn’t call out for help. He simply endured. It was the most tragic thing I’ve ever seen.”