Page 37 of Tightrope

“I read about the curse that psychic, Madam Zolanda, put on this place,” she said.

“I would have thought that would have been enough to make you think twice about wanting to work here.”

Willa squared her shoulders. “I’m not in a position to be choosy.”

“We both know that you blame me for what happened in Abbotsville.”

“Yeah, about Abbotsville,” Willa said. “I’ve had time to think about what happened. You’ve got no reason to believe me, not after some of the things I said to you, but I realize now that Marcus lied to me.”

“Yes,” Amalie said.

“He tried to seduce you first but you wouldn’t give him the time of day. So he used me to find out everything he wanted to know about you.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Willa set down her small, battered grip as if it had become too heavy to lift.

“I told you, I’ve had a lot of time to think during the past six months,” she said. “I remembered all the questions Marcus asked about you. The look in his eyes when he watched you fly. He did a good job of pretending that he cared for me, but the truth is, I bought his story because I wanted to believe him when he talked about getting married and moving my act to Ringling. He was so damn good-looking, wasn’t he? Should have known he was too slick.”

“Willa—”

“I’m flat broke, Amalie. I spent my last dime on the train fare to get here. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. If you don’t take me in, I’m going to be sleeping in a doorway tonight. Just give me a chance, okay? That’s all I’m asking. I’ll earn my keep. You know I can do just about anything that needs doing.”

That much was true, Amalie thought. Those who lived the circus life developed a variety of skills. From aerialists to roustabouts, you had to be versatile to keep your job. Willa was no exception. She had been an equestrienne in the Ramsey show and she’d certainly had a way with the horses and the audience. In addition, she had an artistic flair. She had designed and sewn many of the costumes worn by the performers.

Circus people took care of each other.

“You can stay here for a while,” Amalie said. She stepped back to allow Willa into the hallway. “But I can’t afford to pay you a regular salary, just room and board.”

Relief and hope brightened Willa’s blue eyes. “That’s plenty. Thanks, Amalie. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

“I should point out that you could probably get a real job at the Burning Cove Hotel or one of the other resorts here in town.”

“No, thanks.” Willa picked up her grip and hastened through the door before Amalie could change her mind. “I’ve had enough of working for strangers. My last two bosses stiffed me on my weekly pay and tried to get into my panties. You can’t trust anyone these days. Where’s Hazel? I assumed that you and your aunt would stick together after everything fell apart in Abbotsville.”

“Hazel is in the hospital.”

Willa stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in shock. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to her?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain after you get settled. Right now I’m a little busy.”

Willa got a knowing look in her eyes. “If Hazel is in the hospital, that means you’ve got another bill to pay.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Amalie said. “You can set your grip on the floor behind the front desk. I don’t have time to show you to your room.”

“That’s okay.” Willa frowned at the flour-dusted apron. “Are you baking something?”

“That was the plan but I’m not making much progress. This is a bed-and-breakfast but we also offer tea. I’ve got a couple of guests who will be coming downstairs expecting sandwiches, scones, and shortbread. I’m going to ditch the shortbread. I just don’t have time to bake a batch.”

“I can handle the shortbread,” Willa said.

Amalie raised her brows. “Think so?”

“I know so. I wasn’t born into the circus. I joined the Ramsey show after my folks died. Before that, Ma sold pies and cakes and cookies to make ends meet. I helped her. We did the baking in our kitchen. So, yeah, I learned how to make shortbread.”