In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (20 page)

Her story?
“Tell me. Please. I know so little about her. Only what my aunt told me.” Which was all suspect.

Mama seemed to consider then shook her head. “It’s not my place. It’s your mother’s.”

“Then you’ll tell me where she is?” Angel pleaded.

“Now that I’ve received her permission to, yes.”

Stunned, Angel inhaled a shaky breath. “Sh–sh–she knows I’m l–looking for her?”

“I called her from town. Told her about you. Asked what she wanted to be done.”

“And?”

Mama picked up a piece of paper from a table. “This is where you can find her.”

Angel took the slip as if it were the most fragile, expensive china. Here… now… the answer she’d been praying for! Dread and anticipation fought for control in her heart.

“I guess it’s safe to assume you’ll be leaving us?” Mama asked as Angel continued staring at the address. At Angel’s nod, Mama sighed. “I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go, but I know it’s the right thing. It’s high time the past was fixed.”

Angel didn’t ask what she meant, only stared at the worn face and merry eyes of the slight woman who’d been an inspiration.

“Thank you, Mama. For… everything. And… I… I do understand.” For the most part, she did. Mama and Cassie had only been trying to protect Lila, just as she had wished to shield Posey, Rita, and Rosa from others’ cruelty. That they thought Angel could bear such malice toward her own mother stung a little, but then Angel herself hadn’t known how she would feel around those considered different.

Now, in knowing, she no longer feared how she would react to her mother’s appearance. It was how she would respond to her explanations that chilled her.

Mama Philena held out her arms in understanding, and Angel numbly walked into them, hugging her close.

Unable to sleep, Roland stood at the door of his boxcar, a cool breeze hitting his face. Angel wasn’t the only one to lose a bunkmate, and though Roland missed his wisecracking friend, he felt grateful for these quiet moments to think.

He had never wanted for anything, though he hated the ruthless methods his family used to obtain wealth. Yet Angel, deprived of most worldly possessions, had shown Roland that for all his affluence, he’d had nothing. Here, at this rinky-dink carnival, he had discovered a measure of happiness, found out who he was, and learned what truly mattered. Who would have believed it? Angel was everything to him, and he didn’t want to live without her. No matter how slow he must take things, he would. He had no intention of scaring her away ever again.

A sudden rectangle of yellow light glowing on the ground brought his attention to the left. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Angel had descended from her boxcar, set down her suitcases, and turned to give Cassie a long hug.

“What the…” He blinked. She was leaving?

His initial shock gave way to anger. Again, in the dead of night, she was sneaking away into the countryside she knew nothing about and putting herself at risk. Was ever such a reckless woman created?

With a growl of frustration, he tied on his shoes, slipped his silk jacket over his carny work clothes, and pulled on his hat. His manner of dress was bizarre, but there was no time to change. Besides the clothes on his back, he took nothing but the wages he’d earned. Compared to his former weekly allowance, it was a pittance, yet it was also a king’s ransom, due to the burden lifted off his soul for not spending blood money.

He followed her at a distance, watching her move toward the boxcar where Posey and her husband slept. She knocked and spoke to the tiny blond who opened the door. Suddenly she, too, was wrapped in Angel’s hug, which Posey returned just as fiercely. The same ritual happened at Rita and Rosa’s car, leaving Roland no doubt as to Angel’s intent.

“You going after her?”

Mama’s quiet voice coming from near the tree he stood behind startled him. “I can’t let her go off by herself.”

“I wouldn’t expect so. Your feelings are plain to see. Always have been.” She patted his arm. “A word of advice. She’s had a bad shock so might be touchy. Handle her with care… and with caution.”

He wondered if Angel’s shock was due to his earlier lapse of self-control; he also wondered if Angel had told Mama about it and felt a twinge of guilt. “I don’t like leaving you in the lurch like this. Mahoney isn’t going to like it either.”

“Don’t you worry about my son. I own the carnival, remember?” She winked and patted his cheek. “You just go and do what needs doing. Take care of her, Roland. She’s a dear, but I don’t need to tell you that.”

He nodded, and they watched Angel move away. After a farewell hug and thanks to Mama, Roland followed.

He trailed his misguided Angel to the train depot before she suddenly whirled around, her angry eyes pinning him to the spot.

Angel had sensed him earlier but had written the feeling off as nerves. Yet there he stood, not twenty feet away, dark, handsome, and oh so dangerous….

Not to her life but to her heart.

He approached her. “Nice night for a walk.”

His tendency to initiate conversation with the understated would have made her laugh if she hadn’t felt so hollow.

“What are you doing here? Please tell me that you’re not following me again.”

“I could ask you the same.” His eyes glimmered with frustration and hurt. “You don’t have to run away, Angel. It was only a kiss. I promise I’ll behave if you’ll just come back.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His explanation of
only a kiss
and his vow to behave brought an irrational pang to her heart. He thought his kiss sent her packing? Though it had shaken her to her core, making her feel things no decent girl should, she would never admit that to him. Perhaps her aunt was right, and she wasn’t decent at all.

“It’s not about… the kiss.” Even saying the words made her breathless, and she condemned her awkward tongue. “I’m not that childish. It’s just… something came up. And I would appreciate it if you’d just… go back to the carnival. You’re safer there than out here in the open—especially on a train, since your family owns an interest in the railroad!”

Concern touched his rich brown eyes. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

She forced a calm she didn’t feel, knowing he would never go if he suspected her pain. This man had been her friend, though she felt much more for him. But that wasn’t his fault either, and he didn’t deserve her antagonism.

She softened her tone. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time, Roland. I—I hope you find a happy life and the peace you deserve. I’m fine. Really.” She smiled, hoping to convince him. “The, um, family I told you about months ago? I’ve decided to visit. So you needn’t worry any longer. I’ll be fine.” Before she could curb her instinct, she stepped forward and raised herself on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Startled at what she’d done, she backed away, seeing the shock reflected in his eyes.

“G–good-bye.”

Her heart pounding like a drum, she whirled away, almost running for the ticket window.

Brilliant, Angel
, she chastised herself as she paid for the fare.
Well done. If anything, you just aroused his suspicion.

She chanced a fleeting glance over her shoulder. Relief and despair vied for top billing when she saw he was gone.

It’s what you wanted,
she tried to convince herself as she thanked the ticket seller and moved down the platform to a bench to wait. Despite the heavy beating her emotions had taken, once she sat immobile, she grew sleepy. She jerked awake several times but couldn’t keep her eyes open.

“Miss!”

She jolted awake to see a man shaking her shoulder.

“I think this is your train.”

“Oh.” She straightened and put a hand to her hat, her ticket still clutched in her other hand with the location visible. That must be how he’d known. “Thank you.”

He smiled, tipped his hat, and walked away.

Once aboard, Angel grew restless. She found a seat beside a genial, older gentleman who talked about his grandchildren for quite some time. She displayed the right amount of interest, but his words made her sad. She would never have grandchildren, never have children. She couldn’t. No decent man would have her.

That led her to think of Roland. Months ago, upon first meeting him, she would have labeled him as far from decent. But the truth was, he was nothing like his family, everything a girl could want, and all that Angel wished a man to be.

Dear God….
She had taken to praying in her head often since meeting Mama.
Can You please help me forget him? And to forget that I l–love him….

Her eyes opened wide in horror at the truthful plea of her heart.

Love him!

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling the sudden need for oxygen.

Yes. Love him,
her heart confirmed.
What did you think these feelings were that you’ve been having?

No, no, no! She couldn’t love him! Because of what she was, because of who he’d been. A gangster’s son. A Piccoli. But… but he had changed. She had seen him change.

Yet that didn’t erase the cold, hard fact that she never could.

“Are you all right, my dear?” the kind gentleman asked in fatherly concern. “You look a mite peaked.”

She offered an unsteady smile. “Y–yes. I… I haven’t eaten. I think I’ll check what the dining car has to offer.”

“Of course.” He stood for her to get by.

This time, at least, she didn’t have to worry about luggage, since she was a paying customer and a porter had taken care of her things before she boarded. Asking for directions from a steward, she felt grateful she had every right to be there and again determined to refund the fare Roland had paid on her behalf.

Roland, Roland… again, Roland.

I have to stop thinking about him!

Yet as Angel entered the dining car and stood frozen in the doorway, she realized with breathless shock her wish would not be granted.

Roland Piccoli sat inside a booth, his gaze lifting from the newspaper he held and melding with hers.

Roland watched Angel stand in the doorway as if she might turn and run. A wealth of expressions swept across her face—shock, disbelief, anger, uncertainty, acceptance, fear. But one he hadn’t expected to see—relief and even, dare he think it, happiness—made him take in a stunned breath. He clung to those last two expressions as she stiffly approached.

“I told you not to follow me,” she accused in a hoarse whisper.

He motioned across the table. “Won’t you take a seat?”

She ignored him. “But here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“Why?”

He folded his newspaper. “Because I care.”

“I told you I can take care of myself!”

“Yes, and through the past months I’ve seen that, more and more.”

She blinked. “Then why did you follow me?”