Ellen sat on the edge of her berth and covered her eyes. She wanted to cover her ears and not hear what Lucy was about to read. She already knew. The lump in her throat clogged her airway.
Lucy sat beside her. In a soft voice meant only for Ellen’s ears, she dealt the news.
MOTHER ILL. Stop. MEDICINE RUNNING LOW. Stop. SEND MONEY. Stop.
Her pent-up tears burst through the dam. Ellen doubled over and sobbed. Lucy rubbed her back.
Today, she would travel home, a disgrace. Poppa had pinned his hopes on her. And she’d let him down. How could she face him? What would she say to Mama?
At last, she composed herself.
Lucy leaned close. “God will provide. He has so far. Trust Him.”
“I did. I trusted Him to give me a job.”
“And He provided one.”
“Only to rip it away a few weeks later.” Ellen wiped her face with an embroidered handkerchief. “I won’t make this kind of money elsewhere. I’ll give them everything from my last paycheck, but that will be all.”
Lucy squeezed her. “I’ll pray for you. You’ll never be far from my thoughts. I hope we meet again.”
“You’ve been a true friend. Thank you.”
Lucy left the car with one final wave.
Ellen picked up her valise and made her way to the door. The Alvena had become her home. She would miss it. All of it.
She stepped from the train for the last time and made her way toward the station. The ticket home would sap her money. What she’d saved in her trunk’s secret compartment to send Mama to the sanatorium. Perhaps she could find work in Independence. But she wanted to see Mama. To hold her hand and kiss her cheek. What should she do? Where should she go?
Gravel crunched under her feet, each step taking her farther from the life she’d come to love. The band’s music. Bright flags flapping. Children’s laughter. Pomp and daring and opulence.
Her new life would never measure up.
“Ellen.”
She jumped at the sound of Will’s voice, but checked herself from racing away from him. “I thought you were my friend.” Maybe even more.
“I was. I am.”
“You don’t believe me. Because of one scrap of paper, you tossed away everything I proved to you and believed a woman who’d do anything for my job.” Her heart pumped in rhythm with her legs.
He grabbed her by the arm and stopped her. “Last night taught me something.”
“What? That you were wrong to trust me? You already told me that.” The lump in her throat grew until she thought she might suffocate. In vain, she tried to wrest herself from him.
“I was wrong to not believe you.”
She ceased struggling. Was this an apology? “What?”
“I panicked. Mr. Ringling is after me to stop whatever is going on in the wardrobe department. I don’t want to lose my job. The circus has been my life. I was born into it. It’s all I know.”
“So, to please him, you intended to sacrifice me.”
He finger-combed his brown, slicked-back hair. “Nothing like that.”
“Then tell me what it was like.”
“People have duped me. Last season, I brought on an assistant who told me he’d been with Barnum and Bailey for several years. What he didn’t tell me was that he was here to discover where we planned to go and how we ran our operation so they would be bigger, better, and faster. I almost lost my position. Now, Mr. Ringling entrusted me with the trainmaster’s job, at my age. I can’t make another mistake.”
“You broke my trust. How can I depend on you?”
“Because I’m about to go in to Mr. Ringling’s office to tell him you’re innocent.”
“Telling him that won’t change his belief I tried to murder Constance.”
“That’s not what he thinks.”
“I’m the one who lost my job. A job I needed to save my mother.” She clenched her fists.
“Lucy told me your mother needs medicine.”
“She shouldn’t have.”
“I’m going to fight for you, because I believe you. Constance is making up everything. The stolen cameo. The shredded costumes. The attempted suffocation.”
Ellen took a deep breath. Like a train coming to a station, her heart slowed. “That’s your theory?”
He nodded, smiling. “She had motive.”
“My job. And you.”
“Opportunity.”
“She doesn’t have an alibi for any of the times the events took place.”
“And I studied the two of you last night. She didn’t look like she struggled. You didn’t bear any marks, either.”
Her ears rang. He really believed her. “Is it possible? You can clear me?”
“Am I forgiven for my stupidity?”
Should she? Could she trust a man who didn’t trust her?
“We all make mistakes. I don’t want my big one to ruin what’s happening between us.”
“I looked guilty. If Constance was behind this, she did a good job of setting me up.”
“I don’t want you to leave. You’re important to me.” He caressed her cheek, then cupped her chin.
“I would have missed you.” More than she wanted to admit.
“Then let’s meet with Mr. Ringling. Show him our proof. I’ll convince him to give you your job back. You can take care of your mother.”
Maybe the Lord did provide. Perhaps she should have trusted Him more. “Lucy gave me a verse. Something about committing your ways to the Lord, and He will bring forth your righteousness as the light.”
Will rubbed the dirt with his shoe. “I need to depend on Him more. Less on myself.”
“I’m scared. What if He lets me down?”
He gazed at her. “I’ll disappoint you. He never will.”
“Will you pray with me?”
And so they stood in the rail yard, heads bowed, and beseeched the Lord to sustain them. When they finished, peace flooded her. The worry lines on Will’s brow relaxed.
She followed him to Mr. Ringling’s private car. Through the window, she spotted rich mahogany and brass fittings. Sumptuous luxury. Not her two-to-a-berth accommodations.
She stopped Will at the bottom step. “Are you sure I should go in? He might throw me out on my ear. He told me he wanted me off the train as soon as we arrived at the station. It’s late.”
“You need to show him your arms. The ones that aren’t scratched and don’t bear nail marks. You can do this. For your mother.”
He’d touched a nerve. For Mama, she would do almost anything. She steeled her back and climbed the steps.
When given the go-ahead, Will entered the red velvet–draped car. Mr. Ringling sat behind a large, polished desk, his long legs outstretched. “Mr. Jorgensen. Mr. Piel said you had an urgent matter. I didn’t realize Miss Meyer would join us. I made it clear last night she was to disembark as soon as we reached Independence.”
Her stomach turned to a block of ice. Coming to Mr. Ringling’s office was the wrong move. She tugged on Will’s dark jacket.
He ignored her. “What I tell you will change your opinion.”
The middle-aged circus founder puffed on his pipe. “Make it fast. You should be unloading.”
“Miss Meyer is innocent of all charges. She had nothing to do with any of this, other than being wardrobe mistress and spending time with me.”
Ellen clasped her hands together, concentrating on remaining upright.
“Miss Hefner orchestrated this entire charade. When Harriet Wilson left, Constance believed she’d get the job. She never thought you’d hire a young seamstress not associated with the circus. If she got rid of Miss Meyer, she’d have another chance.”
“And she was right.” Mr. Ringling nodded. “But this is nothing more than a theory.”
“Did you notice her last night? She claimed Miss Meyer tried to suffocate her, yet her hair was neat. And she said she fought back, yet Miss Meyer’s arms aren’t scratched. Isn’t that strange?”
Al Ringling sat forward. “Let me see.”
She hung back, not wanting to bare her arms in front of two men.
Will gave her a small shove.
“It’s not too immodest?”
Mr. Ringling chuckled. “If you wish to exonerate yourself, I need to see them.”
She loosened the buttons of her white shirtwaist’s cuffs and pushed up the sleeves. Then she stepped toward Mr. Ringling.
He studied her for a moment. “Thank you.” He turned his attention to Will. “You’re correct about Miss Meyer. I don’t see evidence of the struggle Miss Hefner described. Your theory is solid. But not proof.”
Ellen rolled down her sleeves. They didn’t know for sure Constance invented these crimes. For the good of the circus, one of them had to go. She knew it would be her. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ringling. I’m glad you believe me. I appreciated my opportunity here.” She turned to leave, determined not to weep.
“Stop.” Will blocked her path. “We can show Mr. Ringling Constance was behind this. I have a plan.”