The Life She Was Given

Fletcher gave Julia a bemused uh-oh look, then directed his attention at Claude. “I’m sure Julia will take your advice into consideration. And I’ll let the buyer know she’ll be making a decision soon.” Then he winked at her and said, “How about a tour of the barn since you’re out here?”

She nodded. “Thanks, I’d like that.” She waited to see if Claude was going to say anything else, but he busied himself stomping dirt around the base of a fence pole, brooding silently. “I’m sorry for not making up my mind right now,” she said to him, “but I will. And I know you’ve got work to do, but after I have a look around, could you please show me how to turn up the furnace? The house is freezing.”

Claude moved away from the fence pole and started toward the manor, his face dark. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll take care of it right away.”

“You don’t have to do it right now,” she said.

Claude ignored her and kept going, his head down.

When he was out of earshot, she glanced at Fletcher. “Did I say something wrong?”

Fletcher shrugged. “I have no idea. But I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that cranky.”





CHAPTER 9


LILLY

Trying to catch her breath, Lilly kicked the door and pounded on the walls inside the tiny, dark bathroom inside Merrick’s sleeper car. The rough wood tore at her knuckles, and the heavy stench of old urine made her gag.

“Let me out of here!” she screamed.

Muffled voices filtered in through the outer walls of the car as performers and workers left the train on their way to work. She shouted again, then forced herself to stand still on trembling legs, trying to hear above her own labored breathing. Nothing. She closed her eyes and struggled to pull air into her lungs without gagging. They’ll come back, she thought. When the show is over, they’ll come back. She pushed her thumbnail into each fingertip—one, two, three, four, five—over and over again, trying to calm down. After what seemed like forever, her lungs loosened and her breathing returned to normal. But then her muscles started to cramp, like a hundred knives in her legs, and the lack of oxygen made her dizzy. She reached blindly for the toilet and sat on the closed lid, her jaw clenched and her shoulders hunched.

A little while later, the distant sounds of the big top found their way into the car from outside—music pulsing, people whistling, clapping, shouting, several collective intakes of breath and a smattering of nervous shrieks. An elephant trumpeted and children laughed. To distract herself, Lilly tried to picture the circus in her mind, the clowns and zebras and elephants and balloons. But what once seemed like a dream had turned into a nightmare, and all she could think about was Abby and going home. She put her head in her hands. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

After a while, the outside sounds changed from laughter and happy shouts to quiet talking and the distant clang of metal doors. Finally, the show was over and, hopefully, Glory was on her way back to the car. Lilly stood and pounded on the door again, even though she knew no one would hear. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth and a sharp, stabbing pain throbbed at her temples. She could hardly breathe, she couldn’t move, and she didn’t know what she would do if she wasn’t let out soon. At last, she heard muffled voices outside the car, footsteps coming up the steps, and the door to the passenger car opening. She put her ear against the door and strained to listen.

“Lilly?” a voice called out. “Where are you?” It was Glory.

“I’m in here!” Lilly shouted, her voice raspy and hoarse. She banged on the door with both fists.

Footsteps raced across the bedroom floor. The handle on the bathroom door rattled.

“Hold on,” Glory said. “I’ll get you out.” Footsteps hurried across the floor again, and Glory’s muffled voice said, “Where’s the key, Merrick?”

Merrick’s muffled voice answered, but Lilly couldn’t make out his words.

Finally, a key rattled in the lock and the handle turned. The door opened and light sliced into the dark bathroom. Lilly blinked and covered her eyes with one shaking hand, briefly blinded by the glare. Then she bolted across the bedroom and living room, and headed for the exit. Merrick blocked her way, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said.

She yanked herself from his grasp and hid behind Glory, breathing hard.

“Leave her alone,” Glory said.

“She’s trying to escape again,” Merrick said.

“Because you locked her in the toilet!” Glory shouted.

Merrick took a step closer and pushed his face into Glory’s, his chin jutting out. “She needs to learn who’s boss around here, just like you did.”

Glory moved away from him, almost stepping on Lilly’s toes. “Well, you don’t need to lock her up like an animal to prove it.”

Merrick scowled at her as if fighting the urge to hit her again, then turned away and took off his jacket, mumbling under his breath. He loosened his bow tie and fell into his chair. “I need a drink.”

Glory shot a Lilly a wide-eyed look and jerked her chin toward the sofa, then went over to the sideboard and poured Merrick a glass of whiskey. Lilly went to the sofa and sat on her hands, unable to stop shaking. Glory flashed her another worried look, her lips pressed together in a hard, thin line. Lilly wasn’t sure if Glory was warning her to keep quiet, or if she was concerned about something else, but she planned on staying still and silent anyway. Merrick was just like Momma, and if he was trying to teach her a lesson, it worked. Glory took the drink to him, pushed a footstool over to his chair, took off his shoes, and lifted his feet onto it. Then she knelt beside his chair.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she said. “Are you hungry?”

Merrick took a long swig of his drink, then looked at Glory with amusement. At first Lilly thought he was going to thank her, or give her a kiss. Instead he abruptly sat up and threw his drink in Glory’s face. Lilly jumped and shrank back into the sofa, her heart racing again. Glory gasped and blinked, her mouth open in shock.

“Yeah,” Merrick said to Glory in a mocking voice. “There’s something else you can do for me. You can stop telling me what to do.” He put the empty glass on the arm of the chair, then stood and stormed into the bedroom.

Still on her knees, Glory gazed at Lilly with sad, tear-filled eyes, whiskey dripping from her hair and face, mascara running down her cheeks. Lilly hung her head and started to cry.

*

After locking her in the bathroom, Merrick kept Lilly prisoner in his sleeper car for three days. Glory brought her wash water from the changing tent, meals from the cookhouse, and fresh clothes from the Monday man, who stole clothes from clotheslines in nearly every town. And when Merrick finally let Lilly out, it was time for her to go to work.

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