Chapter 1 – Here Comes the Circus
Late Summer 1877
Andi Carter stood next to the hitching post and scratched at her hot, sticky black stockings. There wasn’t a speck of shade in the entire churchyard. A straw hat kept the sun out of Andi’s eyes, but it couldn’t keep away the scorching heat.
“I know you’re hot too,” she told the matched pair of bay horses hitched to her family’s surrey.
Jingo and Barney stood drooping, heads down. Their black tails flicked at the buzzing flies. Their reddish-brown bodies quivered. Biting insects gave them no peace.
Andi felt squirmy too, but it wasn’t because of any pesky flies. “Why do grown-ups have to stand around so long after church and talk, talk, talk?” she asked.
Neither horse gave so much as a nicker in reply.
Andi scratched harder and looked across the yard.
Mother was chatting with Mrs. King by the church steps. Big brothers Justin, Chad, and Mitch had found a group of ranchers. Even Melinda, who usually wanted to go home as fast as Andi did, giggled with two other girls her age.
Moisture dripped down the back of Andi’s neck. She rubbed away the prickly feeling.
“Hey, Andi!”
Cory Blake skidded to a stop next to the horses. Dust puffed up around his high-top shoes. His Sunday go-to-meeting clothes were rumpled and dark with sweat.
The dust tickled Andi’s nose. She sneezed. “You’re crazy to run around in this heat.”
Cory adjusted his cap farther down over his straw-colored hair. “Can’t be helped. I’ve been looking for you.” He grabbed her hand. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”
Andi didn’t budge. “I better not. We’re leaving in a minute or two.” She let out an impatient breath. “I hope.”
Cory laughed. “I bet you’re not.” His blue-gray eyes told Andi he knew something she didn’t.
Andi slid her hand from Cory’s sweaty grip and glanced back toward the church steps. Another lady had joined Mother.
“Oh no.” Andi groaned. Gossipy Mrs. Evans never stopped talking.
“Your ma won’t be getting away from her for at least another fifteen minutes,” Cory said. “Plenty of time to show you.” He pointed to the Fresno Hotel just across the street. “It’s not far.”
“All right.” Andi patted Barney’s nose. “I’ll be back.”
Cory shouted a happy yee-haw and took off.
When Andi caught up with her friend, he was studying the south side of the two-story hotel. “Looky here.” He grinned. “Have you ever seen such a sight?”
Andi’s eyes went straight to the three large posters pasted on the building. She caught her breath. “Oh my!”
Cory was right.
Never in all her nine years had Andi seen such bright colors or more alive-looking paintings. A lion with a wide-open mouth stood on his hind legs. He looked ready to gobble somebody up in one bite. The brave lion tamer, dressed in his African safari clothes, held only a whip.
“‘Clyde Bates in single-handed battle with the most savage jungle beasts known to man,’” Andi read in a whisper.
“Circus posters went up all over town yesterday,” Cory said. “Pa let the men paste two of them on our livery stable.” He smiled wider. “I helped smooth out the wrinkles and air bubbles.”
“The circus?” Andi’s heart skipped a beat. “Coming to Fresno? When? Where will they set up the tents? How long will it—”
“The posters tell you everything,” Cory said. “Me and Jack read ’em all when we followed the men around. We saw posters with bareback riders and trapeze artists. A man juggling burning torches. Tigers and tightrope walkers and”—he took a deep breath and recited—“‘the most daring feats of skill and courage ever seen on this American continent.’”
Andi stepped closer to the posters. Her heart beat fast. In sparkly reds, blues, and yellows, Miss Minnie Mae, the champion female bareback rider of the world, stood atop two matching palominos. The horses leaped through a ring of blazing fire.
Another poster showing acrobats and a clown read: Free Street Parade Saturday Morning. Just below the lettering, Andi read the performance times: three o’clock and seven o’clock August 25th. ONE DAY ONLY!
Cory placed his hand over the lion’s head. “This is the best circus act. A roaring lion. The crack of the lion tamer’s whip, the—”
“How would you know?” Andi interrupted. “You’ve never been to the circus.”
The painted lion’s mouth and huge teeth made Andi shiver. Cory was mighty brave to touch it. Show-off! She slapped her hand over the ring of fire. “This is the best act.”
Cory huffed. “You’ve never been to the circus either. Maybe it isn’t real fire at all.”
“And maybe it’s not a real lion,” Andi said. “Maybe—”
“I’ve been to the circus,” Melinda said from behind Andi. She strolled up to the posters. In her big-sister way she waved her hand to take them all in. “It’s all real. The jugglers, the acrobats, the wild animals. Everything.”
Cory’s hand slid down the poster. He stared at Melinda, eyes wide and admiring.
No fair! Andi thought. Why did the youngest child in the family always miss the excitement? “When did you see a circus?” I probably wasn’t even born yet.
“I was nine,” Melinda said. “It wasn’t a big circus like this one. The railroad track had just been put down. A small circus train came through the valley.”
Andi’s face puckered into a scowl. If Melinda was nine, then I was four years—
“You saw it too, Andi.”
“I did?” Her eyebrows shot up.
Melinda nodded. “You sat on Father’s lap and spilled lemonade down your dress. All over Father too.” She started laughing. “He jumped a foot in surprise.”
Sweat suddenly beaded Andi’s forehead, and not because of the noonday heat. Melinda’s words had jogged a long-forgotten memory. “I was scared,” she whispered.
“That’s right.”
“What was I scared of?” Andi glanced at the poster-lion’s gaping mouth. “The lions?” That fear was not hard to imagine. “Or maybe the elephants?”
“Not at all,” Melinda said, smiling. “There weren’t any elephants or lions. Just a few acrobats, some jugglers, and a bareback rider. And clowns. You were terrified of the clowns. One came up and tried to shake your hand. You shrieked and lost your lemonade.”
“You’re scared of clowns, Andi?” Cory laughed so hard he held his stomach. Then he wiped his eyes and pointed to the top poster. “You’re scared of that smiling, silly-looking clown?”
Andi had no memory of the clowns. “Course not. Melinda’s making up a story.”
“Am not. Ask Mother or the boys.” Melinda lost her smile. “But there was one truly frightening part of that circus.”
“What?” Cory asked. “Did an acrobat fall off the high wire?”
“No. It was Mitch. He was fourteen, just my age. All he talked about was running off to join the circus.”
“Like being a part of it?” Cory’s eyes gleamed.
Melinda nodded. “He went on and on about the colors, the excitement, no school.” She bit her lip. “I was scared I’d wake up one morning and find Mitch gone.”
Andi caught her breath. “Gone for keeps?”
“Yes.”
Andi could not imagine life without her cheerful, laughing big brother. When Chad bossed her too much, she often ran to Mitch. He always took her side.
“Father didn’t let Mitch out of his sight until the circus left town,” Melinda said. “He also kept a close eye on him for a whole week afterward.”
She paused and glanced at the posters. Then she held out her hand. “Come on, Andi. Mother sent me to find you. It’s time to go home.”
Andi took her sister’s hand, but her gaze stayed fixed on the poster of the bareback rider. Glittery costume, happy smile.
No school. A thrill shot through Andi.
She understood Mitch’s feelings exactly.