The Rancher’s Inconvenient Bride. Carol Arens

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      There had been a time, and not long ago, when Agatha could not even walk. For her own twisted reasons, her nurse had made sure to keep her helpless.

      Now, if she had to march twenty miles a day to build her strength that was what she would do.

      “Lady,” came a voice from between two trailers. “Can you help me?”

      Agatha stepped into the shadow between the trailers to see a woman sitting on the ground, her back propped up by the wheel behind her.

      A young coochie girl, by the looks of her. Agatha had heard enough gossip to know that the dancing girls who worked for Frenchie Brown did far more scandalous things than dance without their clothes.

      What had happened to her in her young life to make her a slave to prostitution and addiction?

      Poor thing. Agatha understood more than most people did, that life could take a person in a direction she would not have chosen.

      She scanned the ground near the sallow-skinned woman, looking for a bottle. Yes, there it was, just under her hand.

      “I’ve run out of laudanum.” The woman gazed up at her with unfocused eyes, her mouth slack. “Go into my trailer and fetch me another bottle, won’t you?”

      Something dark, fearful, raised its head inside of Agatha, snarled its claws about her. As clearly as she heard the wind rustle the brush, she heard its seductive voice.

      She backed away without answering the prostrate woman.

      Even though her hands grew damp and her stomach nauseous, she was not going to pick up the laudanum. If she did, she feared she would find a dim corner and drink it down.

      It was time for a visit to the elephant. She cut across the yard, rushing past the bull hand who guarded the huge pachyderms against curious townsfolk.

      It was not those elephants she sought. It was the one inside the big top that drew her.

      Pausing beside the entrance, she glanced behind her. In the distance she spotted a man making his way up the stony path toward town. Something about him, the way he moved, seemed familiar—reassuring.

      That was odd since she could see nothing of him but the back of his coat as he huddled against the wind. Odder still, that a stranger could give her a sense of comfort.

      Agatha hurried across the floor of the Big Top. Glancing about, she ducked behind the canvas where Gloria stood still and majestic even in death.

      She wouldn’t visit for long. Mr. Brown did not like people near his elephant unless it was by a personal invitation or purchased ticket.

      This was a rule that Agatha had ignored from the first moment she saw the beast.

      “I’m not you,” she whispered to the hulking gray corpse.

      But she had been. Under the influence of the laudanum that Hilda Brunne had kept her subdued with, she had been as lifeless as this elephant.

      Dead inside, gray and still outside, appearing to have life but with no spark of animation.

      Some people might think it strange that she likened her past to this petrified creature—she even thought so sometimes. But other times, when she was afraid, when simply giving a stranger the time of day made her want to hide away—she needed to be reminded that she was alive—to vow that she would never again be a slave to laudanum.

      She feared this great hulking creature that seemed to represent life in death.

      She feared herself, what she might have become without the help of William English.

      Yes, Ivy had been the one to help her overcome her addiction, but it had been William who kept her from going back to it when, fearing her sister had died, she wanted to find oblivion again.

      On that wicked stormy night, he’d placed a book in her hands and made her read it out loud to him. It hadn’t been easy to do, given that she was mightily distracted by the masculine scent of him, by the warmth of his arm and the lean muscle of his thigh touching hers while they sat on the couch waiting.

      Of course, she’d had a crush on him for years. But whenever her young heart would begin to flutter, Nurse Brunne would point out that she was not fit for any man, especially not one like William English.

      She’d been right about that. William was a prince and she had been—dead—like this poor elephant.

      But she would not be again.

      Today she was breathing, alive and getting stronger. No one, or nothing in a beguiling little bottle would take that new freedom from her.

      * * *

      The stew was not thickening as it should. No matter how long it cooked, it remained broth and not gravy.

      The Fat Lady would hate it.

      “I don’t know what’s wrong, Laura Lee.” The Fat Lady was not the only one who was going to be displeased. “Frenchie Brown will be angry.”

      “I’m homesick,” Laura Lee stated as though Agatha had not spoken.

      “He’s going to bellow at us if his food isn’t correct.”

      “It’s been two months and I miss the Lucky Clover to my bones. I’m going home, tomorrow.” Laura Lee turned to look at Agatha, moisture glittering in her eyes. “Did you add flour?”

      “Going home!”

      She couldn’t go home! The two of them had come on this adventure together. Why, Ivy and Travis would never have allowed her to come if Laura Lee hadn’t accompanied her.

      Especially had they ever dreamed the adventure would lead to this cook trailer.

      As far as anyone back home knew, she and Laura Lee were working in the kitchen of a fancy hotel in Cheyenne.

      Before Agatha had even become skilled at peeling potatoes, the hotel closed for good. Within a couple of days, Laura Lee had secured them this job.

      Maybe she ought to have gone home then, let her friend go on alone, but she had set out to find independence. What could be more daring than living among circus folks?

      “I’ve got to go. You know how I was sweet on Johnny Ruiz?”

      How could she not know? At only five miles from home Laura Lee had begun to sigh over him and hadn’t quit.

      “We’ve been writing to each other every day. He’s coming for me and we’re going back home to be married.”

      “But you haven’t finished teaching me to cook.”

      What a cowardly thing to say! Agatha regretted it the instant the words left her mouth.

      “You came here—joined a circus for mercy’s sake—in order to learn to stand on your own.”

      Yes—it was true that she had. Still, she hadn’t learned nearly enough СКАЧАТЬ