Will touched the wardrobe mistress’s bloodied head, his mouth as dry as if he’d swallowed a handful of sawdust. Broken bits of memories exploded in his mind. He was little, so little. His own mother lay in a pool of blood. The other trapeze artists clustered around her, as if they could restore her life.
Screams slashed through his thoughts and brought him back to the moment. The assistant, Constance, stood beside him, yelling.
“Stop it. That’s not going to help.” He watched the wardrobe mistress take a breath. Thank You, Lord. “Help me get her out of the water.” Rain gushed into the middle of where the tent once stood.
Constance didn’t budge.
Without help, Will picked up the wardrobe manager with as much gentleness as he could muster. By now, the rain soaked him to the skin. He shivered.
“What’s her name?”
“Ellen Meyer.” Constance spit out the words.
Miss Meyer stirred in his arms, her dark eyelashes fluttering. She moaned.
“Don’t move too much. I’ll get you somewhere dry.” The thick mud sucked his shoes, threatening to tear them right from his feet.
She opened her eyes. The green of them shocked him. He’d never seen eyes the color of prairie grass.
“What happened?”
When she spoke, he wilted. “You got a mighty nasty bump on the head.” This time had a different ending. He’d seen so much worse.
She struggled against him. “The costumes. We have to get them loaded before the rain hits.”
“It’s already pouring.”
“Then we have to hurry. Put me down. I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“I insist.”
“Are you sure?”
“Thousands of dollars’ worth of dresses and shoes and hats will be ruined if I don’t get them on the train.”
Still supporting her around her waist, he set her on the ground.
She wobbled for a moment. “Oh my.”
“You need to see a doctor.”
“Nonsense. As soon as the world stops spinning, I’ll be fine.” She bit her lip for a moment before smiling, even as rivulets of water trickled down her face. “See, right as rain.”
He couldn’t control the laughter that burst out of him. “I suppose you are. Let me help you.” He whistled for one of the roustabouts from the flat car. “We need the wardrobe trunks on next.”
“Oh no. No, this can’t be happening.” Still in his embrace, Miss Meyer trembled.
He followed her gaze. The depression where the wardrobe tent used to stand had filled with water. Turned into a pond. He couldn’t guess as to how many inches now covered it. But it was enough for the trunks to float.
He put out another call to his men. “Let’s go, on the double. No time to waste. We still may be able to save the contents.”
Holding Miss Meyer’s hand, he sloshed toward the trunks. The petite blond assistant, Constance, occupied the same spot he’d left her. Instead of screaming, she now bawled like a black bear cub. Miss Meyer broke away, pulling a trunk onto dry ground.
He turned his attention to Constance. “There’s nothing to be frightened of. We’re safe.”
She blubbered. “But my costumes. Look at them.” What creations the gale hadn’t torn from the rack now hung sodden on the rod.
He didn’t know much about clothes but doubted saving them was possible. “Ruined. Let’s concentrate on what we can rescue.”
No sooner did he turn his back than her shrieking resumed. “No. That’s all my hard work. We have to save them.”
Three of his crew members arrived with a wagon. “Help Miss Meyer. I’ll take care of this mess.”
Figuring it would be faster to load up the few remaining dresses than arguing with the woman, Will got to work. He really needed to supervise the loading of the train, especially considering the weather. Everything must move with precision if he wanted to retain his new position. He only stayed to keep a watch on Miss Meyer. Once or twice, he caught a glimpse of a grimace on her face, but otherwise, she worked alongside them, showing no ill effects.
She could be dead right now, just like…
Shaking off the thought, he commandeered a water-logged trunk and stuffed the once-showy costumes inside before hoisting it onto the waiting wagon with the others. “Get them to their car, boys.”
Miss Meyer, her wet hair hanging in curls down her back, watched the roustabouts take away the trunks. He stood beside her. “I hope you can salvage them.”
She closed her eyes, then opened them. Were those tears or raindrops? “I don’t think so. The trunks aren’t waterproof. There must have been two feet of water in that depression.”
He touched her damp cheek. “I’m sorry.”
The assistant’s strident voice startled him. “At least she had hers packed. She helped herself before she gave me a hand, so hers would be saved and mine ruined.”
“That’s not true.” Miss Meyer leaned forward. “You told me you could do it yourself.”
“I told you I could fold the dress myself, not get everything put away in time. You’re selfish. Your underlings should be your first priority. I have never been treated like this before.” The assistant spun, almost slipping in the mud, and splashed away.
Will’s skin prickled. “Watch out for that one.”
Ellen’s head pounded in a most awful way, the beat of it matching the clacking train wheels. She sat on her lower berth, the one she shared with Lucy Hanson, and tried to focus on the tiny stitches in the ringmaster’s coat. All to no avail. The hem blurred before her eyes.
Compounding the headache caused by her bump on the head was the knowledge that she and her seamstresses would be busy in the coming days repairing or, in most cases, remaking many of the costumes. Only a few of the floating trunks remained dry. Most were waterlogged.
“You look worn out, Ellen.”
She glanced at Lucy, who also sat stitching. “I am. And I hate to think of all the work left in front of us. Hopefully in Geneseo tomorrow, I’ll be able to get some of the material we need. I don’t know if they’ll have all of our specialty fabrics. I might have to telegram to procure some of the tulle and spangles.”
“And the milliners in town. They might be able to help.”
“That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought of them.”
Constance picked that moment to flounce down the aisle dressed in a lightweight yellow gown with the poofiest sleeves Ellen had ever seen. She dared to glance at Lucy, who clenched her lips together. Laughter simmered inside of Ellen. She bit her cheeks to keep it from spilling out. While the gown might be appropriate for a stroll in Central Park, it had no place on a train in the middle of a very muddy Illinois prairie.
Lucy leaned over to whisper to Ellen. “Those sleeves take up almost as much room as Constance herself.”
“Stop it. That’s so naughty.” But Ellen couldn’t keep the lilt from her voice.
Constance spun around. She pointed at Ellen’s heart, her finger almost daggerlike. “It’s all your fault. If you had helped me pack, those costumes wouldn’t be ruined.”
“Packed or not packed, it didn’t matter. Do you forget that most of mine floated away, too? Yours actually fared better still hanging on the rods.”
Constance fluttered like a butterfly as she collapsed onto her berth. “All that hard work, nothing but a soggy mess. And I only have you to blame.”
“Me? You blame me for what happened, as if I control the rain?”
“Why not? You favor Lucy and the other girls. I don’t know why you have it out for me.”
“I don’t dislike any of you. Lucy and I sleep next to each other, that’s all. And she’s helpful to me.” Her headache ratcheted up several notches.
“And she’s helpful to me.” Constance spoke in a singsong manner.
Lucy stood. “That’s enough. Ellen’s not done anything to you. Leave her be. If you’d get to work, you could finish a few repairs before we get to Geneseo.”
“I’m worn out. All that work I did on my own exhausted me. I need to take it easy. Maybe go to the pie car to unwind.”
Ellen crushed the delicate velvet in her fist. She forced herself to relax her fingers. “We’re all going to have to work extra-long hours and help each other in order to get this done. That includes you, Constance.”
“Me? How about you? The way you order everyone about, like you’ve worked here forever instead of a few weeks.”
“Ladies.” The sharp male voice startled Ellen. In an instant, the Alvena, the women’s sleeping car, fell silent.
She looked up to find the trainmaster in the doorway, a steaming cup of something in his hand.
“I knocked several times, but I suppose you didn’t hear me with all the shouting. What’s the matter?”
Ellen came to her feet, a wave of dizziness swirling around her. As the train lurched, she reached for the berth to balance herself.
Within seconds, Will was at her side. “What’s wrong?” He steadied her, the warmth of his hand seeping through her cotton shirtwaist’s sleeve.
“I’m fine.” The car came back into focus. “Just a tiny dizzy spell.”
“You need to be careful. That was a nasty bump on the head.”
She stared into his hazel eyes and couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“She’s fine.” Constance’s high-pitched voice grated in Ellen’s ears. “It’s just like her to play up a little injury to her own advantage.”
“I brought you some tea. Chamomile. My mother swore by it.” Will handed her the cup.
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“What, no tea for the rest of us? Is it only Ellen who’s special?” Constance’s voice grated on Ellen’s nerves.
“If you want to knock yourself unconscious, I’ll be happy to make you some.”
How could he be so gracious? All Ellen wanted to do was to light into Constance like she’d seen her brother do to the schoolyard bully.
She rubbed her temple. “I do have a headache.”
Will turned his back to Constance. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to get the trunks loaded on time. That storm came up fast.”
“It’s not your fault. You had no idea—none of us did—that the dressing tent would turn into a lake.”
“Did you lose much?”
“Quite a bit, I’m afraid. I hope Geneseo is a large enough town that I’ll be able to buy a good deal of what I need there.”
“From what I remember, it is.”
“You’ve been there before?”
He nodded.
“How long have you been with the circus?”
“Born and bred.”
“Impressive. It’s quite the life.”
“I don’t know anything else.” He nodded at her, a bit of a frown marring his handsome, angular face. “Well, it will be an early morning yet again, so I’ll leave you to get some sleep. Good night.”
He strode away, needing just three long steps to reach the end of the car.
“What was that all about?” Lucy returned to her position next to Ellen.
“I have no idea. Why would the trainmaster check up on the humble wardrobe mistress?”
“Exactly my question.” Constance glared at Ellen. “Watch that you don’t get too big for your britches. Oh, but you already are.”