“Well, I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” he said.
She filled the glasses halfway, handed him one, and sat on the couch beside him. He took a swig and grimaced a little.
“Is it horrible?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“You didn’t look like it was fine. You made a face.”
He grinned. “I have a confession to make. I’m not a brandy drinker. Beer is normally my spirit of choice.”
“Then why did you—”
“Because a night like this calls for brandy.” He drained his glass, set it on the coffee table, and swallowed, trying to keep a straight face. “And you looked like you needed some company.”
Her cheeks grew warm and she fixed her eyes on the fire. Why did he always assume he knew what she needed? “Would you like another?”
“No, thanks.” He sat forward, his elbows on his knees, and gazed into the fire.
She sipped her drink and watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering why he agreed to stay. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he took her up on the brandy just to spend time with her. But that was impossible. He was a veterinarian with a college degree and she had never graduated high school. Someone as handsome and accomplished as he surely had a girlfriend, or a fiancée, or a wife. Maybe even a couple of kids and a dog. She shook her head and tried to think rationally. He had come here to check on the horses and only took her up on her invitation because he was kind. That was it. And truth be told, she was grateful to meet someone kind at Blackwood Manor. Maybe he was right, maybe she did need company.
Despite her earlier decision not to ask if he knew anything about her parents and sister, she changed her mind. Kind people liked to help others. And she certainly needed help. Maybe he’d heard something while working here—if not from Claude, from someone else. After all, he knew the other horse farmers in the area, and people loved to talk. “Can I ask you something?”
He grinned. “Am I single? Yes.”
Her face grew hot again. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“How come I’m not married?” He raised his palms as if confessing a crime. “I guess I just haven’t found the right person yet. After all, it takes a special woman to appreciate someone like me. I’m handsome, charming, well educated. And who could resist a guy who wears shit-covered boots and sticks their hands up cows’ asses all day?” He leaned back, put his arm across the back of the couch, and cast her a wry smile. “What about you? Are you single, or will I have to fight someone for your affections?”
She couldn’t seem to answer him. She had forgotten how to breathe, as if taking in air no longer followed letting it out. Suddenly she felt like they were too close. But he didn’t move and neither did she. He gave her a bemused look. Then gradually, his expression changed and grew more serious. She felt like she might dissolve under his scrutiny. She stood, picked up their glasses, and headed toward the kitchen. “You should probably go,” she said. “It’s late and I need some sleep. Thanks for your help.”
He got up and followed her. “No problem,” he said, sounding puzzled. She went to the sink and he went to the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow and check the pipes.”
“All right, I’ll see you then. Thanks again.”
“Night.” He smiled awkwardly and let himself out into the freezing night.
After he was gone, she leaned against the counter and tried to clear her head. She had no idea if he was trying to be funny or sincere. And to her surprise, she felt like a schoolgirl with a new crush, with sweaty palms and quivering knees. But that was impossible. She had just met him. She didn’t even know if she trusted him. Hell, after everything she’d been through, she didn’t trust anyone.
CHAPTER 19
LILLY
Three weeks after Cole tried to convince Mr. Barlow to put Lilly in the elephant act, The Barlow Brothers’ Circus landed its biggest venue yet, in a town outside New York City on the Fourth of July weekend. It was their first time performing at that spot, and Mr. Barlow and Merrick barked orders nonstop.
Inside the dressing tent, Glory finished fixing Lilly’s hair and helped her with her pearl necklace. “Are you nervous?” she said. “Mr. Barlow says everything has to go off without a hitch so we can come back next year.”
“No,” Lilly said. “But the bigger the venue, the more people I have to lie to.”
“I know,” Glory said. “But even if what you’re doing isn’t real, at least it makes the rubes happy to think they’re talking to their lost loved ones.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell myself,” Lilly said. “But what happens when everyone finds out I’m nothing but a gaff?”
“You need to quit worrying ahead,” Glory said. “It won’t change anything.”
Merrick stuck his head inside the tent. “Let’s go, Lilly.”
She stood, gave Glory a hug, and left with Merrick.
Over the next few hours, the rubes coming inside The Albino Medium’s tent ran the entire gamut, from men looking to connect with their long-departed mothers, to little old ladies desperate to hear from their dead cats. When Pierre meowed from inside the wardrobe and the gray-haired lady with the sweet smile sitting across from Lilly started to cry, it was all she could do not to get up and walk out. Until the chance to do something else had presented itself in the form of working with the elephants, she hadn’t fully realized how weary she was of this gig. And she knew in her heart of hearts the day would come when she would make a mistake and someone would peg her as fake. Then there would be hell to pay.
After the gray-haired lady left, Merrick gave Lilly two names instead of the usual one, because the next rube insisted on trying to reach two dead family members. As soon as Merrick left, a big, surly man in a worn jacket and dungarees limped into the tent. He looked to be about forty, his grimy face covered with two or three days’ worth of beard, his hair sticking out in all directions, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes wafting from his clothes. Scowling, he fell into the seat across from Lilly, then sat forward, his elbows on the table as if ready to arm-wrestle a sworn enemy.
Lilly swallowed, her mouth suddenly parched. “Hello and welcome,” she said. “Before we begin, let me tell you a little bit about what I do. I’ve been communicating with the dead since the age of four and eventually came to realize I needed to share my gift. Messages from the beyond can come in the form of music, voices, and other sounds. What I’d like you to do is close your eyes and think about your departed loved one. While you’re doing that, I’ll try to connect with the spirit world. Then I’ll ask you some questions, to which you must answer either yes or no. Are you ready to begin?”
“Name’s John,” the man said.
She blinked at him, confused. “Is that your name, or the name of the person you hope to reach?”
“Mine.”
“All right, John. Please relax, close your eyes, and think about the person you’d like to hear from today.”