Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) (23 page)

The brim of Katya’s hat bumped the outside back wall of the maintenance building where she leaned her body. Maddox’s lips pressed against hers, his hands flat across her lower back, pulling her hips closer. The chugging and whirring of engines and machines reverberated around them, never letting them forget they were stealing a moment from their jobs at the carnival.

Katya kissed him harder, knowing they could not spend much more time there. She laughed at herself as she pulled away. “It’s only a few hours,” she sighed.

Maddox had moved into a boarding house two streets away from the Weekly Boarder, the convenience only fueling their need to spend time together. If any of Katya’s housemates noticed her slipping out in the early morning and back to her room before Mrs. Weeks served breakfast, no one mentioned it.

Maddox collected his hat from where he had laid it atop the grass. He brushed off the underside of the brim. “Only a few unending, insufferable hours.” He grinned and placed the hat on his head.

“It’s not insufferable. It’s a good thing we work together and not on opposite sides of the city.” Katya adjusted the position of her hat.

“Do you think that would keep me from seeing you? I’ve traveled half the country. What’s a few miles between us?”

“Then you won’t mind moving back across town,” Katya teased, pretending to preoccupy herself with brushing lint off the sleeve of her jacket. She was glad her elbow had healed well enough to achieve this without discomfort or her sling. “You live too close. It’s too much of a distraction.”

Maddox grabbed her waist and tugged her up against him. “Some day I’ll ask you to marry me, and we’ll buy a house together. I’ll never let you out of my sight. How’s that for a distraction?”

Katya bit her lip, tempering her smile to make sure Maddox did not know how much she wanted that. “I look forward to hearing your proposal, Mr. O’Sullivan. I’ll have to consider my answer very carefully.”

“You won’t think. You’ll just say yes.”

“You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Aye. That’s what you like about me.”

Katya kissed him lightly and strolled to the corner of the building.

Maddox called to her. “Miss Romanova.”

Katya turned to him, striking a pose with her perfect posture.

“I like your new dress.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Katya wove herself into the crowd, ecstatic with the latest tailored and embroidered outfit she had put together. Part of it was Mary’s doing, luring Katya to the seamstress’ shop under the pretense of shopping together. The back of the luxurious velvet jacket had already been outfitted with gears and a working clock just as Katya envisioned. Mary stayed to watch Katya try the jacket on while Katya explained at length how puffy she wanted the shoulders of the sleeves constructed.

Lizzie had already been too ill to continue working in the shop. She divided her time between her bedroom and the backyard, either confining herself or sucking down copious amounts of outdoor air. Neither one helped, and the entire house erupted in a frenzy when Mrs. Weeks found Lizzie dead in her bed. The household showed up dutifully at the funeral her parents held, standing in a depressing black row in the clinging cemetery mist. Mary did not speak to Katya about it for several days afterward until she let herself into Katya’s room one afternoon, so guilt stricken she could barely speak.

“It was no one’s fault but her own,” Katya said, hiding her guilt behind strict objectivity.

Mary grabbed Katya’s arms, tears shining in streaks down her face. “I killed her, Katya. You know I did.”

“Look on the bright side, Mary. Lizzie dyed her hair dark again before she gave up the ghost.”

Mary tossed Katya’s arms down, not completely missing the humor. “Be serious, Katya.”

“Then go to the hospital so you don’t kill the rest of us.”

“Do you have an alibi for me?”

“Yes. I have the best one now, don’t I?”

Within the week, Katya convinced Mrs. Weeks to plan a vacation. “See the east coast, Mrs. Weeks,” Katya persuaded. “See the ocean. You’ve had far too much stress lately.”

“What about Mary?” Mrs. Weeks protested.

“Don’t you worry about Mary. I’ll send her on vacation, too.”

The day Mrs. Weeks boarded the train for Rhode Island, Mary, as President Cleveland once had, set off from Indianapolis for Terre Haute. She wrote to Katya often from her private room at St. Anthony’s, and Katya hid every letter from Mary in the bottom of a drawer in her room.

Another letter, hidden in the sleeve of her glove, scratched Katya’s arm. This one had come for her at the carnival from a person who, as usual, surprised and did not surprise her with his actions.

My dearest Katya
, it began in generous, swooping letters as if he were not on the run from the law.

I wish you were here. The Idaho Territory has a sparse sprawl of civilization across it but tons of opportunities for a trained eye such as mine.
Katya doubted he would be smart enough to stay in the territory now that he had mentioned it in writing. She expected him to reach Canada by the end of the month.

I hope you are healing well. I suspect that had certain plans played out differently than they did, things would’ve ended much differently for the two of us.

In a grand sign-off across the bottom, he had written,
Yours always, William Warden.

More than the assumed name in his signature, the last full sentence haunted Katya’s memory.
Yes
, she thought. If he were still a pillar of the community and a sought-after entrepreneur, he might have reeled her in even farther than he did. She imagined she might have gone so far as to marry Mr. Warden if he asked her. Given the way he played Isolde Neumann, he would have entertained a new mistress every week while Katya struggled to keep up the house. She was glad for many reasons things had not worked out any differently at all. She was happier with Maddox than any older, established man could have made her, including the talented Mr. Warden.

Katya stopped in her tracks, grabbed by an unexpected image. Isolde Neumann, the gilded peacock, glided past her in another elaborate three-story hat. One hand held a parasol over her shoulder, and her other hand rested around the arm of a man Katya did not recognize. So even Isolde could get over the mysterious Mr. Warden without batting an eye. The man’s suit was perfectly pressed and clean, likely a lawyer or restaurateur. Katya was glad she did not look like a money grubber anymore, seeking out men much better off than herself to take care of her. Katya wondered, as Isolde’s green velvet dress disappeared into the crowd, if Mr. Warden had sent her a letter as well. She doubted it. Mr. Warden might have been interested in Isolde’s fortune, but he had demonstrated his interest in Katya time and time again. They remained tightly tangled in each other’s lives. He could disappear into the western wilderness without notifying Isolde of his thoughts, but he could not flee incarceration without one last communiqué to the woman who brought him down.

A lot had happened since Mr. Warden’s flight. Katya testified against Mr. Weis and the other security men. Her face might have healed, but photographs and a dozen testimonies made the men look worse than scoundrels in public opinion. Magdalene remained reluctant to testify, afraid the defense would insist she was too close of a friend to Katya to tell the absolute truth. Katya’s lawyer persisted, especially interested in Magdalene’s account of seeing the security guards leave Mr. Warden’s office. He included a few character witnesses for Magdalene as insurance, including Irina, who won over the courtroom with her blunt observations.

“I don’t like many people,” Irina famously said, quoted verbatim in all the papers. “But I’ve always liked Miss Harvey. She’s a decent woman. She wouldn’t lie.”

It had given Katya little pleasure to point out Mr. Weis and the two men who had laid hands on her sitting in the courtroom. She felt a lot better once they were found guilty and almost vindicated when she read about their sentencing to jail.

“It seems like too short of a sentence,” Mrs. Weeks said, shaking her head at the
News
.

Katya was just relieved she had proven her point and the men had been sent where they could not touch her in the near future. “It’s all right, Mrs. Weeks.”

“What if they want revenge? What if they come after you when they get out?”

Katya considered it, but she thought it unlikely. They would probably find a hard time getting a job in the city when they left jail, and Katya hoped they would join the gold rushes out west. She braved a smile for Mrs. Weeks. “With Mr. Warden gone? I doubt they’ll try anything. They couldn’t get to me, anyway. I’m usually surrounded by people.”

Mrs. Weeks accepted Katya’s logic with a series of slow nods. “I’ll have someone put an extra lock on the back door, though, just in case.”

Katya broke free of her heavy memories and caught someone waving to her. It took her a few moments to recognize Mary. She looked resplendent in a new white silk jacket, white satin gloves emerging from the sleeves. Katya greeted Mary with a squeeze. “You look wonderful. How do you feel?”

“Much better.” Mary’s blue eyes outshone her jacket for health and gratitude. “Thank you again. When’s my mother coming home?”

“Soon. She’s having a marvelous time. I’ll have to show you the postcards she’s been sending to the house. The views and the inns she’s staying at are stunning.”

Mary gestured to something behind Katya. “The carnival’s expanding, I see.”

“Yes.” Katya turned. The once-perfect rectangle of the fence had been added to in the southwestern corner. “A horse-riding attraction is going in behind the Kaleidoscope.” Katya pictured Mr. Davies, a few years older than she was looking for but closer to Mary’s age. He was single, kind, and direct, much like Mary.

“I’ve never ridden a horse,” Mary said, enthralled with the idea.

“Our carriage driver thought of it, Mr. Davies. Have you met Mr. Davies?”

“No.”

“He’s a pleasant man. I think you’d like him.”

“Katya.” Mary sighed. “I got out of the hospital yesterday.”

“And you never looked better.”

A young man walked up to Katya, his young wife on his arm. “Excuse me, miss. Do you have any more of those colored maps?”

Katya gradually remembered she had been on her way to Brady’s office to pick more up when she ran into Maddox outside the maintenance office. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll bring more out soon.”

“That’s all right. Can you point me to the Wheel of Independence?”

Katya pointed toward the band stage and the Beast’s winding track. “It’s at the very back of the grounds, sir. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” He led his wife away, their eyes taking in everything around them.

“I should go take care of that.” Katya patted Mary’s arm. “It’s good to see you. You’ll stay at the carnival for a while, won’t you?”

Mary nodded. “Of course.”

“I won’t introduce you to Mr. Davies if you don’t want,” Katya said. She was already imagining leading Mary around the carnival while they talked, walking her close by where Mr. Davies oversaw the layout of the horse ride. She could call it a happy accident all night, and Mary would see right through it. It did not matter to Katya so long as she introduced them before Mr. Davies found a girlfriend on his own. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Katya walked past the band, which Brady had added two musicians to in the past month. She passed the side stage, where several people were giving cooking demonstrations on small gas burners. She reached the food stall and offered Magdalene a wave. Magdalene took the time to return it before accepting coins from a customer and passing down a bag of popcorn.

Katya was not sure how to repay Magdalene for all of her help and support. She knew it was the kind of thing a friend should simply accept with a genuine thank you and move on from, but Katya knew that nothing would have turned out right without Magdalene’s sly eye and silver tongue.

Katya approached Brady’s office and let herself in. She did not feel any of the rush or anxiety she had experienced when it was Mr. Warden’s office. It felt homey and comfortable, like visiting a friend. Brady had even moved Mr. Warden’s desk to the center of the far room where he could see and be seen as people entered.

Brady set his pen down on the record book and flexed his fingers. “What can I do for you, Miss Romanova?”

“I need more of those maps.” Katya strolled up to his desk and joined him on the other side of it. “The guests really like them. I always thought they would.”

Brady opened the bottom drawer and handed Katya a stack of a few dozen maps. The name
Steampunk Carnival
was printed in sturdy black letters over a curling gold banner at the top.

“We’ll need new ones when the additions are opened,” Brady said.

“And these will become collectibles.”

Brady picked up his pen but hesitated to jump back into the facts and figures filling the columns in his book. Katya lingered over the framed photographs he kept on his desk, one of Sarah and one of Nathaniel. He had never shown them to her, but she knew who they were. Sarah stood humbly with her hands on the back of a chair, dark hair uncovered and wedding band encircling her thin finger. Nathaniel’s picture had likely been taken after his death. He rested in a bed with a far-off look in his eyes. It was a fine family any man would have been proud of, but Katya did not say it. She kissed Brady gently on the cheek.