Kiss an Angel (18 page)

Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face as he met Sheba's gaze. "Daisy's supposed to be taking care of the elephants. From what I saw, she was doing her job."

Her heart skipped a beat. Had he just defended her?

Her pleasure faded as he turned back to her, tilting his head toward the trailer that had hauled the elephants. "It's late, and it doesn't look like you have the inside hosed down yet. Get back to work."

She turned away and, silently wishing all three of them in Hades, set about her job. She understood that if animals were going to travel with the circus, they had to be kept under control, but the very idea that they were being forced to behave in ways that went against their nature bothered her. Maybe she found their condition so disturbing because she felt as if she had something in common with them. Like the circus animals, she was held captive against her will, and, like them, her keeper had all the power.

* * *

Sheba had almost reached the red wagon when Brady Pepper came up behind her. As much as Brady irritated Sheba, she couldn't deny that he was good-looking with his olive skin and sharp, even features. Although she knew for a fact he was forty-two, his wiry hair was only lightly threaded with gray and his powerful acrobat's body didn't have an extra ounce of fat.

"You sleepin' with Neeco?" he said in that antagonistic fashion that never failed to set her teeth on edge.

"None of your business."

"I'll bet you are. He's just the type you like best. Good looking and stupid."

"Go to hell." Her irritation was piqued by the fact that she had slept with Neeco a few times at the beginning of the season. She'd quickly lost interest, however, and hadn't felt any inclination to repeat the experience. She'd never let anyone suspect that sex was losing its appeal to her.

"With a guy like Neeco, you get to call all the shots, don't you. Whereas with somebody like me ..."

"Somebody like you could never satisfy me." Giving him a phony smile, she ran the tip of her fingernail over his deltoid, which was clearly outlined by his fitted tank top. ' The showgirls say you can't get it up anymore. Is that true?"

Much to her annoyance, he failed to respond to her barb, laughing instead.

"You got a viper's tongue on you, Sheba Quest. One day it's gonna get you in big trouble."

"I like trouble."

"I know you do. Especially the male variety."

She set off toward the red wagon, but instead of taking the hint, he fell into step beside her. The length of his stride, the set of his shoulders, everything about him announced that he thought he was God's gift to women. He was also a dedicated male chauvinist, which meant she had to keep reminding him who was the boss. Still, as much as he aggravated her, he was the kind of performer she liked best: proud, hard-working, and honest. Beneath his rough exterior, he also had a generous nature, and unlike Alex Markov, there were no hidden depths to him.

He ran his eyes over her as he always did. Brady never made a secret of the fact that he appreciated women, and despite his dalliances with youthful showgirls, he had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if she were still in her prime. Not that she'd ever let him know that. His sexy swagger couldn't hide the fact that Brady was a Brooklyn butcher's son without a drop of circus blood in his veins.

"You and Heather been spending a lot of time together lately," he said.

"I braided her hair today, if that's what you mean."

He caught her arm, pulling her to a stop. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. I'm talking about all that extra coaching you've been giving her."

"What about it?"

"I don't want you getting her hopes up. You know she doesn't have what it takes to be a decent performer."

"Who says? You haven't given her a fair chance."

"Are you kidding? I've been working with her since she got here, and she still stinks!"

"Is it any wonder?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you might be a great performer, but you're a lousy teacher."

"Hell I am! I'm a great teacher." He jabbed his thumb at his chest. "I taught my sons everything they know."

"Matt and Rob are as hard-headed as you. It's one thing to teach two rowdy boys, but it's another to work with a sensitive young girl. How can she learn anything with you snapping her head off all the time?"

"What the hell do you know about sensitive young girls? From what I hear, you used to suck arsenic-straight from your mother."

"Very funny."

''Try telling me your old man mollycoddled you when he was teaching you to do the triple."

"He didn't have to mollycoddle me. I knew he loved me."

His mouth thinned into a belligerent line. "Are you saying I don't love my daughter?"

She slammed her hands on her hips. "You stupid jerk. Didn't it ever occur to you that it's more important for you to be Heather's father now than her coach?

If you'd stop pushing her so hard, she might be able to perform better."

"All of a sudden I've got fucking Ann Landers here."

"You watch your filthy mouth!"

"Look who's talking. I'm warning you, Sheba, don't screw with Heather. She's having a hard enough time as it is without you trying to turn her against me."

He stalked off, bristling with animosity.

She watched him for a moment, then unlocked the door of the red wagon and stomped inside. She and Brady had rubbed each other wrong from the beginning, but there was also a powerful sexual awareness between them that kept her on guard. Brutal experience had taught her to be careful about the men she chose as lovers, and the day she'd married Owen Quest was also the day she'd committed herself to never again going to bed with a man she couldn't control. She had a self-destructive streak when it came to men, and twice it had nearly destroyed her: first with Carlos Mendez and then, far more brutally, with Alex Markov.

She'd made Carlos Mendez pay for what he'd done to her, and now she reminded herself that Alex had gotten his punishment, too. She went over to the window and saw Daisy Markov struggling with a bale of hay. Sheba almost felt sorry for her—if it had been anyone else, she would have—but Daisy was the instrument of Alex's punishment. How humiliating this must be to him.

She was almost certainly pregnant; there was no other reason for him to have married such a useless woman. But as much as she hated Alex, the circus meant everything to Sheba, and it seemed obscene

that the blood of the Markovs—one of the most famous circus families in history— would be passed on through that pampered little thief. Every time she looked at her, Sheba wondered how she could have held her head up if the truth about Daisy hadn't come out.

* * *

Later, Daisy couldn't remember how she endured the next week and a half as the circus meandered through North Carolina and then crossed over into Virginia. During the day, she and Alex were only together in the truck, and when he condescended to speak to her, she felt as if she were being pricked to death with icicles. They didn't even share meals. Alex usually opened a can of something while she was

in the bathroom getting ready for spec and then left a plate of food out for her while he dressed. He never asked what she wanted to eat or suggested she cook dinner for them, not that she had any energy left for cooking.

Sometimes she thought she'd dreamed that passionate kiss they'd shared. They no longer even touched except on those occasions when she fell asleep in the truck and woke up snuggled against him. When that happened, she would jerk away, only to feel the sexual energy pulsing between them, as palpable as the breeze that blew through the truck.

Or maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe she didn't appeal to him at all.

How could he find anyone attractive who had blistered hands, a sunburned nose, scabby elbows, and lived in filthy work clothes? Sometime in the past week, she'd stopped putting on makeup until she had to get ready for spec.

During the day, she snagged her hair in a ponytail, with the uneven wisps that escaped the rubber band trailing down her neck and across her cheeks. In the space of two weeks, the grooming habits of a lifetime had been broken.

She didn't even know who she was when she looked into a mirror.

And she was always exhausted. She fell asleep on the couch before midnight, but once Alex came into the trailer, it was nearly impossible for her to go back to sleep. She'd toss and turn for hours, finally tumbling into a fitful dreamlike state only to have him growl her awake long before she was rested. She was drained, confused, and incredibly lonely.

Since everyone believed she was a thief, the members of the company continued to avoid her, and her relationship with the elephants hadn't improved, either. Tater still acted as if she'd betrayed him. Several times Daisy had considered spraying herself with perfume, but she was more afraid of his affection than his dislike. When Neeco and Digger were around, the elephant left her alone, but if they weren't in sight, he looked for opportunities to swat her, and he'd knocked her down so many times that she had bruises everywhere.

The other baby elephants had quickly realized she was an easy mark, and she'd become the target for all their mischief. They sprayed her with water, bellowed at her, and swatted her if she got too close. Even worse was the way they waited until she was standing next to them before they did their personal business. Digger told her that as long as she refused to use the bull hook on them, she deserved what

she got, but she wouldn't beat them.

Although she'd stayed away from Sinjun, she'd learned about him from listening to the others talk. He was an old tiger, about eighteen, with a reputation for being cranky. According to Digger, none of the trainers had ever been able to befriend him, and everyone regarded him as both unpredictable and dangerous.

Just like her husband. Alex confused her so much she didn't know what to think. As soon as she made

up her mind that he was nothing more than a sadistic monster, he'd appear at the elephant truck with a new pair of work gloves or a baseball cap so she didn't get sunburned. And more than once, he'd happened by just in time to wrestle the loaded wheelbarrow down the ramp for her. Most of the time, however, he simply gave her grief.

It was an unseasonably hot day for mid-May. The temperature had soared well into the nineties, and the thick humidity made it difficult to breathe. They were playing in a parking lot again, this one in a small town south of Richmond, and the black asphalt intensified the heat. She'd been swatted twice already by the elephants, badly scraping her elbow the second time she fell. To make it worse, everybody in the circus seemed to be relaxing except her.

Brady and Perry Lipscomb sat in the shade beneath the awning of the Pepper family's Airstream, enjoying a cool beer and listening to a baseball game on the portable radio. Jill spritzed herself with water and lay back on a lounge chair with the newest issue of Cosmo. Even Digger was taking a nap in the shade.

"Daisy, get your ass moving and do something with that hay!'

Neeco shouted out his order from the doorway of the trailer the showgirls used, then draped his arm around Charlene's shoulder. Ever since their confrontation over the bull hook, Neeco had been hostile.

He gave her the worst jobs and kept her at them for long, backbreaking hours until Alex appeared and told him she'd worked enough for the day.

As she began to move the hay, every muscle in her body burned. Her sweat-soaked T-shirt had a rip at the shoulder seam; filth covered her jeans; dirt, hay, and manure stuck to every inch of her damp skin. Her hair was matted to her scalp, and her grubby fingernails were as broken as her spirit.

Across the lot, Sheba sipped something cool from an orange plastic tumbler and painted her toenails. Perspiration dripped in Daisy's eyes, making them sting, but her hands were too dirty to wipe them clear.

"Hurry it up, will you, Daisy?" Neeco called out, while Charlene giggled.

"We've got another load coming in."

Something inside her snapped. She was tired of being everyone's whipping boy.

She was tired of being swatted by baby elephants and treated with contempt by humans.

"Move it yourself!" She threw down the pitch fork and stomped away. She'd had enough. She was going to find Alex and demand that plane ticket. Nothing she could face on her own was as bad as this.

A great roar reverberated through the lot. With it, her skin began to burn from the heat, and her parched throat demanded water. She saw a hose running from the water truck toward the menagerie, and she hurried toward it, feeling vaguely panicked because she had never been so overheated.

Once again, she heard a roar, and she looked up to see Sinjun's cage baking in the sun. Waves of heat bounced off the asphalt and made the tiger's orange-and-black stripes shimmer.

Not all the animals were inside the menagerie tent. Some of them had been left in a small fenced-in area between the menagerie and the big top. Chester, a mangy-looking camel, was tethered not far away along with Lollipop, a cream-colored llama with bedroom eyes. A large piece of mildewed white nylon provided a bit of shade for them, but nothing shielded Sinjun from the low angle of the sun that beat through the iron bars. Like her, Sinjun seemed to have been singled out for abuse.

He stared at her with a sad sort of resignation, not even bothering to pick up his ears. Behind him, the llama made a strange clucking sound, while the camel studiously ignored her. The heat from the asphalt soaked through the soles of her sneakers and burned her feet. Perspiration trickled between her breasts.

Sinjun's eyes seared her soul.

Hot. I'm so hot.

She hated this place where animals were kept in cages to be stared at. The llama's strange clucking rattled through her ears. Her head ached, and the smell of mildew from the nylon sun shade made her stomach queasy. She took an involuntary step backward, wanting to distance herself from the sun and these sad animals and the awful heat. One of her sneakers squished in a puddle of water. She looked down and saw a leak in the coupling of the hose that fed the animals' watering trough.