House of Mirrors (19 page)

“Like you said, Duck Holler ain’t so far from here. If you’d kindly go find my kin and tell them about me after…”

Jonah bobbed his head, ready to agree to anything Sam wanted. He’d never felt so horrified or helpless in his life, not even when his cousins had been beating the tar out of him. Sam was his best friend and the kindest soul he’d ever met. Jonah had had a few friends back home, but none who really knew him yet still accepted him. With Rafe there was too much turbulent emotion and need for them to have a simple, uncomplicated friendship. If Sam died, the loss would rip a huge hole in his heart.

Jonah filled a glass with water while he got his emotions under control and held the glass to Sam’s lips. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Mindy ain’t the only one around here who acts tough to protect her insides. You keep doing whatever you’re doing with Grimstone. I never seen him so happy nor so flustered. He don’t know if he’s coming or going, and it’s up to you to tell him what’s what.”

Jonah nodded as if he understood this bit of homespun wisdom, but didn’t think flustered and Rafe Grimstone belonged in the same sentence. The man was always in control, except maybe when in the throes of passion. He’d never allow himself to become attached to Jonah and would never listen if Jonah did try to tell him “what’s what,” whatever that meant.

Sam’s eyes closed, and he drew a harsh breath. Jonah held his own breath, waiting for Sam to exhale again. At last the sick man released another rattling breath.

The door of the wagon opened, and Mindy returned with a different bottle of Parinsky’s patent medicine, which contained nothing more than a strong draught of alcohol, honey, and a few herbs. Jonah was glad there was no actual snake oil in this latest batch.

“The old quack’s gonna stop by and check you out in a little while.” She fussed around Sam, straightening the sheet and plumping the pillow. “For now, you take some of this and see if it don’t ease the pain in your chest.”

Sam dutifully swallowed the spoonful she poured for him, grimaced at the taste, then collapsed against the pillow and closed his eyes.

Jonah rested a hand on Mindy’s shoulder as she sat staring at Sam. “Will
you
be all right?”

She glared at him. “Of course I’ll be all right. Sam’s the one who’s sick.”

“Okay.” He accepted her thorns with a smile. “I have some chores I need to do, but I’ll come back later and spell you.”

He leaned over Sam again, wanting to say good-bye once more—just in case… “I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon. Get some rest if you can.”

Sam dragged his eyes open as if by an effort of will and focused blearily on his face. “Pleased to know ya, Jonah. You’re a good fella. Don’t let anybody tell you different.”

That sounded far too much like a good-bye. Jonah swallowed the lump in his throat and swiftly pressed a kiss to Sam’s burning forehead. Then he left the room before he lost control. Outside, if his tears mingled with the falling rain, there was no one who would know the difference.

Chapter Eighteen

Rafe yelled at the team of rousties to pull as they fought the wind in an effort to secure a portion of loose canvas. A free rope lashed like a bullwhip before Crooked Pete caught hold of it and fastened it to a peg. The entire tent was on the verge of collapsing into the mire of mud if the men didn’t batten it down. They carried poles and, from under the tent, shoved up to drain off the water.

Thank God there were no patrons inside. Although the foul weather would’ve ensured a poor turnout anyway, Rafe would just as soon have opened today. Idleness was giving his people too much time to dwell on the recent spate of disasters. Keeping busy would take their minds off their woes as well as bring in some ready coin. Christ knew they could use some income. At this rate, he’d have to send some of the men to hunt animals in the nearby woods in order to fill the stewpot.

Rafe had taken off his hat to avoid losing it to the wind. His hair whipped around his face and stung his eyes, and rain soaked him from head to toe. But at last the men had the tent secured again. Their boots churned the mud into deep ruts as they circled the structure, checking the moorings on every stake.

“Grim.” A voice from behind him made him turn away from the activity.

Mindy approached, her brown hair plastered to her head and raindrops rolling down her face. “It’s Sam.”

She said no more, but the desolate look on her face told Rafe everything he needed to know. Oh God, no. For some reason he wished Jonah was near—as if his presence could delay or soften her inevitable words: “Sam’s gone.”

“I didn’t know he was that bad off.”

“He was always sick. How could anybody know this time it was different? What could we have done?” Her voice broke, and her face crumpled in misery.

Rafe pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, and Mindy clung to him and sobbed like a child. There were several things he could’ve told her, such as that Sam had been living on borrowed time and likely no physician could’ve helped him. His form of gigantism came with attendant physical problems. He’d fought against his weak respiratory system and enlarged heart all his life, and the one time he’d seen a doctor at Rafe’s behest, the doctor had informed Rafe outside of Sam’s hearing, “
That young man won’t live to see thirty
.”

But none of these were comforting words, and Mindy didn’t need to hear them. Rafe simply held her close, crooning soothing nonsense until her sobbing ceased.

The rain began to ease by the time she pulled away at last, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “We should take his body home. We can’t just bury him alongside the road or in a cemetery in some strange town. He should be near his folks even if they did treat him like shit.”

Rafe thought of the logistics of transporting Sam’s large body some distance away. Considering the fact that Sam had fled his family, it didn’t make much sense.

“I think it’d be nicer to bury Sam near here so all of us can attend the funeral. We’re the ones who really cared for him, not some relatives who never gave a damn. We’ll do him up proud and leave him resting easy.”

He closed his aching eyes and listened to the dripping trees and Pete’s voice urging workers to push the poles up to dump out the last of the rainwater lest the tents collapsed. Sam was dead, but the carnival couldn’t stop and mourn for long.

Rafe hadn’t heard Jonah walk up, but now he couldn’t miss his quiet voice. “We have to find his people.” Jonah’s eyes were red-rimmed, his hair tousled and damp. “Before he died, he asked me to tell his family.”

Rafe felt a surge of sickening guilt. He should have visited Sam, made sure he was comfortable. Never mind that Sam had been sick so long; Rafe was a failure as boss if he hadn’t even known one of his stars had been so close to death. Jonah, who’d been with them less than two months, had been a better friend to Sam. Rafe stared at a string of flapping flags that had broken loose during the storm. He wanted to fall to his knees and howl.

“You hunt his family down, then,” he said to Jonah. “Take Jester, the bay with the stocking on the left rear leg.” That was the toughest baggage animal with the best wind.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you,” Rafe added, but Jonah was already making his way toward the horses. “Don’t forget to take provisions,” he called after him and wondered how far he’d have to travel through the rugged, unmarked countryside. Maybe he should send Treanor, who knew this part of the world, along with him.

Mindy watched Jonah jog away, splashing through puddles. “Sam liked Talbot. He told me to stop giving him so much hell. Said the same thing to me about you too, Grimstone.” She gave him a fast, sour smile. “Don’t count on that one.”

“No, no, I won’t,” Rafe said softly. “Pray, don’t stop your abuse, Mindy. I’d hate it if everything changed.”

Her mouth twisted, and she began to cry again. He held her again and tried to make out her muffled words. She cried about how she hadn’t been kind enough to Sam and now it was too late.

“Hush, hush. He knew. He loved you and knew you cared,” Rafe said and furtively wiped his own eyes. “He was happier in your company than anywhere else, Mindy.”

She calmed at last. As she pulled away, Rafe remembered he’d wanted to send Treanor along with Jonah. He squeezed Mindy’s shoulder. “I must go.”

“Hold up. We’d best decide what’ll happen with Sam.” She pulled out a handkerchief, blew her nose, and tilted her chin up. “We can’t wait too long, boss. It’s summer.”

He didn’t get her meaning at first, then nodded. The inevitable heat. Trust Mindy to be sensible even in the midst of her grief. “We’ll lay him to rest as soon as we can, love.”

He started toward the spot where the horses were tied up, but he’d waited too long. Pete was the only one standing by the horses, and the bay gelding was not tethered in its usual spot. “Where’s Jester?”

“Talbot took him. Says you gave him permission.” Under bushy brows, Pete’s eyes narrowed. “He had a bedroll and a sack. Don’t tell me he’s decamped with the best horse. I swear, I hate notifying the towners, but if we gotta call in the law—”

“No, he didn’t scarper. I did indeed give him permission. I just didn’t think he’d leave so quickly.”

“Quick about describes it too. He took off like he was the Pony Express.”

Rafe considered grabbing another horse and heading after him, but he had no idea where to go. He wasn’t even sure he knew which direction he’d find Chicken Hollow or whatever the place was called.

Rafe would give Jonah a day and then contact the locals about a burial site. No doubt for the likes of showfolk, the towners would inflate the price of a plot in the cemetery, but he’d pay it. Sam would get all the honors due him.

As he strode back to his wagon, Rafe reflected how much he’d miss the big man, but he couldn’t allow himself to indulge in grief just yet. He had a show to put on.

Everyone was already getting ready for tomorrow’s performances, and no one questioned the fact that they would be open for business. An artiste could die in the middle of an act, and the rest of the show would continue—the surviving players would even try to make whatever accident that killed him look like it was part of the act. But it was a testament to Sam that there was a sense of subdued mourning in everyone from the lowliest canvasman to the artistes practicing their acts.

Even Miss Jamie took a break from making her dogs dance on their hind legs to express her sadness to Rafe. “In proper shows, the human oddities kept their own society and certainly didn’t mingle with the artistes. But it was somehow fine with Sam.”

Rafe was surprised that she would be so forthcoming. It was true that Sam was so pleasant, the most entitled performers hadn’t been able to force the giant to stay where he belonged in that strict social order. After a time in his company, most liked him too much to admonish him to keep his distance.

Jonah had that quality too. He cared about people and didn’t give a damn about their pedigree. Despite the fact that he was a university graduate, he would listen respectfully to Claudia, who hadn’t finished fourth grade. That was what made Jonah so special.

* * *

By the next morning, Jonah still hadn’t returned from his errand. Rafe stared over the misty hills and wondered what he’d do if Jonah never returned. Sam was gone. So much loss; what could he do? Carry on, of course. Rafe couldn’t allow grief or fear to engulf him—there was too much to do. They must bury Sam, put on afternoon and evening shows, and then get back on the road by the next day or risk losing too much income.

As soon as local businesses in Craggy Peak were open, Rafe and Parinsky rode into town, dressed in civilian clothes. Parinsky was in a sour, silent mood. Rafe told the undertaker the dimensions they’d need for Sam’s coffin, and he promised to have a plain model finished within an hour and send it in a wagon along with his assistants. The pastor of the local Methodist church came to collect the money for the cost of the gravesite and service, and then Rafe and Parinsky headed out of the funeral parlor.

“We’d better hurry so everyone has time to get ready for this nonsense,” Parinsky muttered.

Rafe had been ignoring his glowering face but thought it best to clear the air. “What’s wrong?”

“The show can’t afford the time or the cost. We should put him in the potter’s field. And that extralong coffin is too much.”

Rafe was surprised the man wasn’t trying to capitalize on Sam’s death as he’d wanted to do with Lancelot. A funeral procession through the town was as good as a parade for drumming up customers.

“Sam knew this day was coming, so he saved his pennies. It’s his money,” Rafe lied. He was paying from his own pocket, but he had no interest in arguing with Parinsky. “Morale is bad enough. If we don’t show Sam proper respect, it’ll get worse. We don’t need to give the message to everyone that they’re of no value and easily replaced.”

Parinsky scowled. “There ain’t no such thing as an irreplaceable being.”

His stare held a clear threat:
I’m talking about you, boss.

Rafe could match the hard gaze.

Parinsky was the first to look away. “Yeah, fine. You’re right. But we gotta get on the road tomorrow. We’ll get him buried today as soon as possible. And we take off tomorrow even if your pretty Talbot isn’t back.”

His pretty Talbot
. God Almighty, that threat couldn’t be ignored. It was Rafe’s fault—he’d been too obvious, too wrapped up with Jonah and not careful enough. He grabbed Parinsky’s upper arm but didn’t raise his voice. “You watch your mouth. You’re the one who said there’s no such thing as an irreplaceable being.”

Parinsky raised his hands, palms up. “He’s your protégé, as you fine folk say. No need to get all huffy. And there’s no denying the boy is good-looking.”

Rafe had had enough. “I’ll let you get away with this crap for now because we’re all on edge. But watch your step.” He let go of Parinsky’s arm.

Keeping a close watch on Rafe, Parinsky unlooped his horse’s reins from the ornate black cast-iron hitching post. Rafe knew he’d won—for the moment, anyway. It wouldn’t do to gloat in victory, so Rafe immediately grew businesslike. He swung up on the saddle. “We’ll follow the undertaker’s wagon to the site and have a graveside service. We’ll bring along the band and see Sam off in style.”