Kiss an Angel(97)

Even though he still hadn’t spoken the words she needed to hear aloud, she knew he had deep feelings for her. How else could she account for the tenderness she saw reflected in his eyes at the most unexpected times or the contentment that seemed to radiate from him when they were together? Sometimes it was hard for her to remember how seldom he had laughed when they’d first met.

She knew he liked being with her. Between the close quarters of the trailer and the long miles they traveled in the truck nearly every morning, they spent more time together than most couples, yet he still sought her out during the day to share a story he knew she would enjoy, grumble about a problem with a local official, or simply give her a quick, proprietary pat on the bottom. Their daily meal between the matinee and evening performances had become an important ritual for both of them. And at night, after the work was done, they made love with a passion and a freedom she hadn’t believed possible.

She could no longer imagine life without him, and as one day faded into another and he stopped mentioning their divorce, she knew he couldn’t imagine them separated either. That was the real reason she didn’t want to tell him about the baby. She wanted to give him just a little more time to get used to loving her.



The next morning all heck broke loose. Alex awakened not long after she’d slipped out of bed and discovered her in the deserted field behind the trailers playing with Sinjun. Two hours later he was still upset about it.

It was her morning to drive. They’d begun sharing driving duties when he’d realized she wasn’t going to strip the gears on the truck and that she enjoyed being behind the wheel.

“I should have driven this morning,” he said. “It would have kept my hands busy so I didn’t have this urge to wrap them around your neck.”

“Now, Alex relax.”

“Relax, my ass!”

She glared at him.

He glowered back. “Promise me you won’t let Sinjun out of his cage anymore.”

“We weren’t in a town, and there wasn’t a soul around, so will you stop worrying.”

“That doesn’t sound anything like a promise.”

She gazed out at the flat Indiana farmland that stretched on each side of the two-lane highway. “Have you noticed Jack and Jill are spending a lot of time together lately. Wouldn’t it be funny if they got married? Because of their names, I mean.”

“Stop weaseling around the subject and give me your word that you won’t keep putting yourself in danger.” He took a sip from the earthenware coffee mug he clutched in his hand.

“Do you really believe Sinjun would hurt me?”

“He’s not a house cat, regardless of the way you treat him. Wild animals are unpredictable. You aren’t to let him out of his cage again, do you understand me? Not under any circumstances.”

“I asked you a question. Do you think he’d hurt me?”

“Not on purpose. He’s bonded to you, that’s for sure, but the circus is full of stories about supposedly docile animals turning on their handlers. And Sinjun’s hardly docile.”

“He is with me, and he hates the cage. He really does. I told you earlier that I never let him out if we’re close to a residential area. And you’ll notice that no one was around this morning. If anyone had been stirring, I wouldn’t have opened the door.”

“You’re not opening it again, so none of this matters.” He finished his coffee and set the mug down on the floor of the cab. “What happened to the woman I married? The one who didn’t believe civilized people got out of bed before eleven?”

“She married a circus bum.”

She heard his deep chuckle, and returned her attention to the road. She knew the matter of letting Sinjun out of his cage was resolved as far as he was concerned, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t made any promises.



Heather closed the door of the Airstream and stepped out into the night. She wore a yellow cotton Garfield nightshirt, and her feet were bare as they sank into the damp grass. The big top had been taken down, but she was too sick inside to pay attention to the familiar sights of the circus disbanding. Instead, her attention was riveted on her father, who sat outside their Airstream in a blue-and-white webbed lawn chair smoking the one cigar he allowed himself each week.

For once there weren’t any women hanging around him. No showgirls, and none of the townies who were always after him. The idea of her dad having sex totally grossed her out, even though she knew he probably did. But at least he made sure she didn’t find out about it, which was more than she could say for her brothers. Her dad was always getting on them for talking nasty around her.

He still hadn’t seen her, and as he took another drag on his cigar, the red tip glowed. Heather hadn’t eaten any dinner, but she still felt like she was going to throw up, just from thinking about what she had to do tonight. If only she could stuff her fingers in her ears and drown out the voice of her conscience, but it kept growing louder each day. It had gotten so she couldn’t sleep at night and food didn’t want to stay in her stomach. Keeping silent had turned into a worse punishment than telling the truth.

“Dad—uh—can I talk to you?” She had a big frog in her throat, and the words came out sort of croaky.

“I thought you were asleep.”