The Mercenary's Kiss. Pam Crooks

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      She eyed him covertly, and her worry deepened. He’d begun to show his age these past months. He tired more easily, moved a little slower. Countless hours riding on a hard wagon seat in all kinds of weather was beginning to take its toll.

      Only his medicine shows invigorated him. Doc Charlie thrived on them.

      Not so, Elena. Once, the crowds exhilarated her. The smells and sounds. The opportunity to travel and see parts of the country she might never see otherwise.

      It was all she knew, this traveling, and she had grown weary of it. She longed for a home—a real house—of her own. With a yard and a garden and neighbors to wave to when they passed by.

      She sighed again. Pop wouldn’t understand this change in her. In fact, he’d be devastated if he knew.

      Winter would be upon them soon. As always, they’d find someplace to stay for the coldest months, work on new routines, and Pop would make plenty more of Doc Charlie’s Miraculous Herbal Compound. Come spring, he’d be ready to go again.

      Except Elena wouldn’t be with him.

      She simply had to tell him her decision. The sooner, the better.

      Even more important, she had to convince him not to go, either. She wanted him to settle down with her so she could take care of him in more comfortable surroundings. He could even open his own apothecary. He could find plenty of new opportunities to sell his elixir. Lots of patent medicine companies did.

      She drew in a breath. “Pop?”

      “You’ve got something on your mind, Lennie. Have now for a while, haven’t you?”

      She straightened. Had it been so obvious? “Yes.”

      “If you’ve got a problem, we can’t solve it if I don’t know about it. Isn’t that right?”

      Elena gave him a rueful smile. Pop might be slowing down physically, but his mind was sharp as ever. “Yes.”

      He covered her clasped hands with one of his. “Well, go on. I’m listening.”

      She opened her mouth to speak, but a soft noise in the back of the wagon closed it again.

      “Is that who I think it is?” Pop asked, his eyes twinkling at the timing of the intrusion.

      “I’ll only be a few minutes. We’ll talk then, okay?”

      Pop winked. “I’ll be right here on this wagon seat.”

      Bracing herself against the jerky motion, Elena slipped through the narrow door leading into their living quarters. She pulled back a tiny curtain over the window. Daylight filtered inward, enabling her to see the dark-eyed baby wiggling in the crib.

      Her son, Nicholas. The love of her life.

      “Hello, sweet-cakes,” she cooed, scooping him into her arms for a hug. “You took such a good nap, didn’t you?”

      “Ma-ma-ma.”

      She kissed him on the nose. The warmth from his chubby body soaked into her as he cuddled close, laying his head on her shoulder. But in the next moment his head came up again, and he peered at her, his grin happy and expectant.

      “Are you hungry?” she asked, laughing.

      Nicky was always hungry, but then, he was growing so fast. She could hardly believe they’d already celebrated his first birthday.

      She laid him in the little crib. “Mama will change you, and then you can eat, okay?”

      Stepping to the small bureau where she kept his clothes in a drawer with hers, she retrieved a fresh diaper. By the time she returned to the crib, he’d already pulled himself up and was trying to climb over the rail.

      Elena laid him back down again. She could barely keep up with him anymore. He had boundless energy and curiosity. He delighted in staying just a step ahead of her and found it all great fun when she was forced to give chase during his adventures.

      She removed the soiled diaper and replaced it with the clean one, her fingers deftly maneuvering the pins while her thoughts drifted to when he’d first learned to climb out of his bed. They were traveling somewhere in western Louisiana, and it’d been pure chance she peeked into the wagon to check on him while he napped.

      She nearly had heart failure seeing him toddle toward the back door. His pudgy hand turned the knob, and by the time she clamored through to reach him, he’d pushed it right open.

      A shudder went through her just thinking of it. One lurch from the rig and he could have fallen out. He could have become entangled beneath the heavy wheels.

      He could have been killed.

      Of course, they kept the door locked after that. Still, a traveling wagon was no place to raise a child.

      Settling him on her hip, she found a box of crackers and returned to the driver’s seat with Pop. She wouldn’t be able to warm anything until they stopped to build a fire, and given their urgency to catch up with the rest of the troupe, Pop wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.

      “Why, there’s my little man!” Pop boomed in greeting.

      Nicky wiggled with excitement at seeing his grandfather. Pop lavished him with his usual round of kisses against the curve of Nicky’s neck, which never failed to send him into shrieks of laughter. Pop lifted his head and pried his goatee from little fingers, then sat back in his seat. His eyes gleamed with pride. And love.

      “What a joy that boy is to me, Elena,” he said.

      A surge of emotion welled inside her. She hugged Nicky close. “To both of us.”

      She centered her world, her every thought and action, around him. He’d been conceived in a few horrible moments of violence, that cruel twist of fate which had torn apart her virginity and planted him in her womb, a tiny human being innocent of the horrors of the outside world.

      But a constant reminder of them.

      Haunted by the hate which threatened to destroy her, Elena had had every intention of ending the pregnancy. She wanted no part of the brutal Mexican who had shattered her innocence and tormented her with nightmares. How could she bear it?

      How could any woman?

      But the days passed, and slowly she healed. Pop’s devastation from her attack ran deep, but he loved her unequivocally, and the rest of the medicine show troupe—the only real family she’d ever known—surrounded her with overwhelming warmth and support. From them, the people who loved her most, she drew courage and went on.

      The hate eventually died, buried beneath the hope and anticipation that unexpectedly grew in its stead. She began to realize the baby growing inside her was her own, and no one could ever change that. Perhaps it was God’s way of helping her survive the ordeal; she thanked Him every day for giving her Nicky.

      “Ma-ma-ma.”

      After finishing his cracker, he patted her chest and plucked at the buttons of her blouse. СКАЧАТЬ