“Yeah,” Anouk agrees. “I think you’re stuck with him.”
They go and wash their breakfast dishes and mugs, but I stay where I am, too listless to move. I thought I’d feel wonderful this morning if the show went well, but I just feel empty.
I sense Dandelion’s accusing eyes on me from the other side of the field. She’s bored and wants a treat. I heave a sigh and get to my feet.
Only to find Cale standing right in front of me. He’s got his sleeves rolled back to reveal his forearms. Which makes me think of knife-throwing. Which makes me think of last night’s kiss, or non-kiss, or whatever the hell that was.
“Summer’s getting on. We’ve been heading east, but we’ll start heading north tomorrow,” he says, skipping right over good morning and did you sleep well and your mouth was against mine last night.
North. Back the way we came. Back to where Cale found me. My misery and uncertainty are suddenly joined by panic. I have visions of my father blocking the road in front of the wagons and forcing me back into the house at gunpoint.
His hands touch my bare upper arms, so hot they nearly burn me. Or maybe it’s just that my skin is suddenly icy.
“Ryah? What’s wrong?”
I can’t stop my legs from trembling. “Do we have to go back north? Can’t we just stay down here?”
He looks at me with confusion, and then his face suddenly clears. “We’re not going anywhere near your old home. We’ll pass miles and miles to the east. You never saw the circus in autumn, did you?”
I think about it for a moment, and then shake my head. “No. You’re right. Only in early summer, heading south.”
Next year we’ll pass my home. It’s a long time away, but I can feel the months creeping up like a malevolent, stalking creature. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask for that hug he promised if I ever needed it, but after last night it doesn’t feel like something I can do anymore.
Dandelion has always been where I flee to when I’m afraid, and I push past Cale to go to her. An arm snakes out and snags me around the waist. Cale’s arm, strong and secure and everything I need. I sag against him, my eyes closing. I want to whimper he feels so good. The muscles of his bicep are strong beneath my fingers.
Cale speaks softly into my ear. “I won’t ever let him hurt you.”
I turn my head and gaze up at him. His face is almost as close to mine at it was last night.
Cale releases me slowly and looks away. “That’s all. See you later.”
He heads toward the big top and I continue on my way to Dandelion, who pushes her velvet muzzle into my hand as I reach for her.
“Dandelion,” I whisper, burying my face in her silvery mane. “I don’t know what to do about Cale. I don’t understand what I’m feeling for him.” Dandelion stamps a foot and shakes her head.
“You’re right,” I mutter into her withers. “I should get on with things and stop daydreaming myself sick. That’s what you’d do, isn’t it?”
She gives her tail a decisive flick, and I jump up onto her back and canter around the field. I always feel so free up here, and I’m able to leave my troubles behind. For a little while, at least.
The weeks roll onward as the circus heads north. There are new towns. More shows. There’s work and practice, and new things to master. And there are chores. Always chores. Washing clothes and sheets and makeup brushes. Scrubbing the wagon floor and airing bedding, and always, always seeing to the horses.
The weather grows cool, then nippy, then downright cold. Everything seems to take twice the effort and twice the time as the nights begin to close in earlier and earlier. Before I know it, it’s the start of November and I’ve been with the circus for more than three months. I wake up in the mornings and I can’t feel my toes. Elke and Anouk gasp and chafe their hands together to warm up as they get dressed, but they’re more used to it than me. I feel like there are ice splinters under my fingernails and toenails and my blood has been replaced by raspberry Slush Puppie.
The incentive to get out of bed is that Gorran always has the fire lit and hot coffee prepared by first light. I shiver by the fire as the village church clock strikes eight. The sun is low in the sky and it’s reflecting off the frozen white grass.
“Oh my god,” I mutter, quaking with cold and trying not to slop coffee over my glo
ved hands.
“You all right there, sparkle?”
I look up and see Cale striding up to me, his hands deep in his pockets and a smile on his face. My stomach flips like a pancake as it always does when he looks at me like that, but I push that feeling away. Our act’s been going well and Cale’s as friendly and kind as he always is, but it’s plain that’s all he feels for me. Friendship and kindness. It’s more than I hoped to find when I ran away, and I’m trying to be grateful.
I wonder how he’s smiling and looking so relaxed when we’re living in a snowball. It’s only November, but it feels like we’re already in the depths of winter.
“Now I see why Elke said to me that if I make it through November, I’ll make it as a performer,” I say through chattering teeth.
“She’s about right,” Cale says. He doesn’t even look cold.