People were still scrambling out, their faces blackened with smoke, coughing, their eyes streaming. I saw the two stunt bikes abandoned on their sides near the entrance.
“Stay here!” Zef shouted at me.
“But . . .”
“Stay!” he yelled, shaking my shoulders so roughly my head wobbled.
I nodded wordlessly as he darted into the smoke-filled tent.
I stood with my fists clenched, wondering what to do. My limbs unfroze as I realized that the wind had shifted and all three of the bikes were dangerously close to the flames. I strained my muscles to pick up Zef’s bike, rolling if further away from the flames. Carl and Buddy saw me struggling, grabbed Kes’ and Tucker’s bikes and moved them clear.
Two ambulances had arrived and were already treating people for minor burns and smoke inhalation. I could hear more on their way, screaming sirens growing louder.
I strained my eyes to peer into the smoke-fillent tent, there was no sign of the guys.
I stood and waited, watching, waiting, watching, waiting, breathing, holding in the desperation.
Please God, bring them out safely. Please God . . .
A team of fire fighters arrived, trying to usher me away.
“Please stand out of the way, ma’am.”
“My boyfriend is in there with my brother and their friend Zef! They were trying to help people . . .”
Suddenly, a figure appeared out of the gloom, a figure dressed in racing leathers.
“Kestrel!”
He collapsed onto his knees and the small bundle that he’d been holding started to cry. It was a child, a little girl of about five, her face streaked with smoke and tears.
“There are others in there . . .” Kes gasped. “Trapped at the back. Maybe ten . . . I couldn’t see . . .”
I ran toward him and his eyes were wild. “Tucker?”
“I don’t know!” he shouted, his voice filled with frustration and fear.
The little girl’s cries penetrated my own terror and I scooped her into my arms, carrying her toward one of the ambulances. Her wordless cries and racking cough brought me to tears. One of the paramedics took her from me but she started to scream louder so I stayed with her, watching from a distance as Kes stumbled to his feet. He tried to go back inside, but a firefighter held him back. Then I heard Aimee screaming his name, throwing herself into his arms.
She was shaking her head and trying to drag him away, but he was standing firm. Then Zachary ran up, followed by Luke and they grabbed his arms and physically hauled him away.
A team of firefighters with breathing apparatus made their way inside, torches shining, then disappeared through the smoke.
We stood, watching, waiting, daring to hope, but as each second passed, my belief and hope leaked away as if they were carried on the stench of smoke.
I realized that I’d lost all feeling in my hand, and when I glanced down, I was surprised to see that the little girl was still gripping it tightly.
Two firefighters loomed out of the smoke supporting an elderly man and woman. More lives saved, but where was Tucker? Where was Zef? Ollo?
It seemed impossible that anyone could live inside that inferno, and police began moving the crowds even further back. But all the carnies refused to move. Jade was there, tears in her beautiful eyes, her black hair bedraggled; the roustabouts Carl and Buddy were trying to organize a headcount; Rhonda was there with her rodeo family, reassuring her children that the horses and ponies were safe.
I saw Yolanda sobbing, heartbroken as the Big Top burned, her faithful dog Maverick beside her, but crying for her three other dogs who hadn’t made it out.
My eyes stung. It was the smoke. Only the smoke.
And we waited.
“Fuck’s sake!” Kestrel yelled, making us all jump. His hands fisted in his hair. “My brothers are in there! You have to let me go!”
Aimee was almost incoherent, her arms wrapped tightly around him, begging him not to go back inside; begging, pleading. Luke and Zach held his arms, their faces gaunt with fear.
And then a figure appeared out of the smoke, coughing and retching onto the grass. It was Zef, and the tiny figure of Bo, who wasn’t moving.
Aimee gave a hoarse cry, ran forward, gathering the little figure into her arms. A harried paramedic didn’t want to help her when there were so many human casualties, but something about that tiny form tugged at his heart, and Bo received oxygen, just like a human child. One breath, then another, and finally his innocent black eyes opened wide, and his fingers curled into Aimee’s hair.
Zach and Kes raced to Zef, hauling him to his feet and dragging him clear.
“Tucker?” I whispered.
Zef couldn’t breathe, but he shook his head, and I didn’t know what he meant. Didn’t know if . . .
Kes’s face was tight. “Zef! Did you see Tucker in there?”
Another head shake.
“Ollo?”
Zef’s head drooped and he passed out.
The paramedics got to work, pushing the carnies out of the way.
Four more people were brought out by firefighters, but the heat was unbearable now and we reared back as fresh flames tore up the canvas side of the Big Top.
Surely no one could survive that? The pungent smoke grew thicker and we were all moved again as the wind shifted around, taunting us with lazy swirls of choking, acrid fumes.
I felt like I was splitting at the seams, tearing apart.
Almost nothing of the Big Top was left, just a blackened skeleton.
The Fire Chief was pulling his men out and I wanted to scream at him, Not yet! They’re still in there! But the breath was ripped from my throat.
Please, God!
Tucker.
Stumbling, almost blind from smoke, a figure appeared, hunched over.
Someone screamed and suddenly everything was happening in slow motion. Kes and Luke rushed forward, pulling the frail form of Ollo from Tucker’s hands and carrying the unmoving figure to the paramedics.
I tore myself free from everyone who tried to stop me, running to Tucker as he stumbled and collapsed. I fell to my knees as other hands pulled off Tucker’s helmet.
His face was streaked with smoke and sweat, his eyes were red and his lips were cracked from the heat. But he was alive. He was breathing.
“I thought I’d lost you!”
“Never,” he gasped. “I’ll always find my way back to you. Always.”
I cried and laughed and cried some more as the paramedics led us away, insisting that Tucker, Kes and Zef go to hospital. Half the carnies followed, the other half staying to help with the fire investigation, staying to clear up, because although the Big Top was destroyed the show must go on.
Right?
I tightened my arms around Tucker’s neck, not caring that my clothes were smeared with black and we both smelled like we’d been barbecued.
“I love you!” I cried.
“Love you, too,” he croaked, gulping in air. “So much. So fucking much.”
“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” I yelled, tears running down my cheeks.
Even as I said it, I knew how pointless my words were. Tucker was a stuntman; a brave, fearless, honorable man—who was going to drive me absolutely crazy every day we shared. Life wouldn’t be boring.
Being with Tucker was going to knock years off my life—but who wants to live forever?
Tera
It was two weeks after the horrific fire that ripped through the Big Top. I didn’t like to think about it too much, but the reminders were everywhere, and each night since, Tucker had shaken me awake from a nightmare where I was searching in the dark but couldn’t find him.
Tucker was different, too. It was as if coming so close to death, he was determined to squeeze every drop of pleasure out of life and party like there was no tomorrow. It was exhausting trying to keep up. I hoped that we’d find some middle ground soon.
But today he was in a more somber m
ood; we were at the hospital visiting with Ollo.
He was sitting in a chair fully dressed, his short legs sticking out in front of him, and a few belongings stuffed into a grocery bag on top to the bed.
Kes strode forward, bending down low to hug him. They held each other for a long time and Kes whispered something to Ollo that we couldn’t hear. Ollo nodded and when Kes stood up, the little man was wiping his eyes.
Tucker shifted uncomfortably, and I felt like I was intruding on the moment, but then Aimee stepped forward, giving Ollo a quick hug too, and promised to make his favorite banana pancakes when he came home.
“Yo, Ollo, you shrink again, man?” Tucker said when it was his turn, crouching down to shake Ollo’s hand and slap him on the shoulder.
Ollo elbowed him in the chest and Tucker lost his balance, landing on his ass with a grunt.
“He gets dizzy,” Ollo grinned at me. “No oxygen all the way up there.”
We laughed and I smiled at Tucker, grinning as he lay sprawled on the floor. No one could be sad for long around my man.
“What’s the news?” Ollo asked Kes. “Have I been eighty-sixed?”
I glanced at Tucker for a translation.
“Ollo wants to know if he’s been barred from the fairground or if he’s cleared to come home.”
“Sure, man!” Kes answered. “We’re here to spring you.”
Ollo grinned widely, but then the door opened and a doctor in pale blue scrubs walked inside.
“Mr. Kolski, how are you this morning?”
It took me a second to realize that the doctor was talking to Ollo. I’d never heard him called by his surname before. I’d never heard it, period.
“Ready to roll, Doc,” said Ollo confidently.
The doctor frowned.
“Mr. Kolski, I’ve explained to you that I’m concerned about the heart arrhythmia that we found. Untreated, it could be very serious.”
Ollo stuck his lip out. “I’m not staying and you can’t make me. Right, Kestrel?”
A silent conversation took place between the two of them while Tucker stood with his arms crossed, a small frown drawing his expressive eyebrows together.
“We can take care of him at home,” Kes said decisively, finally looking at the doctor. “Whatever treatment he needs, he’ll get it.”
The doctor was shaking his head before Kes had finished speaking.
“I can’t recommend that. As Mr. Kolski doesn’t have any family, he . . .”
“What are you talking about?” Kes said fiercely. “We’re his family.”
The doctor frowned, checking his notes.
“Not legally, so any decisions . . .”
“Fuck the law!” snarled Kes, and Aimee laid her hand on his arm.
The doctor seemed taken aback.
“A man of his age shouldn’t be living in a trailer,” he argued. “I can recommend a good retirement home not far from here where his disabilities can be catered for and . . .”
I heard a low growl in Tucker’s throat. “Ollo doesn’t have any disabilities,” he said flatly.
The doctor’s mouth dropped open.
Ollo slid from the chair, his dark eyes hard and cold.
“If I’m going to die, it won’t be in a damn hospital. I was born on the road, not in a building. The carnival is my life. A rube like you can’t understand it, but everywhere is my home and the sky is my roof. And you’re wrong, Doc, there are thousands of people in my family. Thousands of them. And all carnies.”
I felt so many emotions in those few minutes. Concerned for Ollo’s health; relief that he was alive; moved by the connection between him and my brother. But most of all, I finally understood the word ‘family’. It means doing the wrong thing for the right reasons; it means standing up for the people that you love; it means accepting their decisions and supporting their choice; it means loving them for who they were and not what you think they should be. It means a love that comes without conditions.
And I knew I had it here with my new carnie family.
Tucker clapped his hands together, a huge smile on his face.
“Nice shooting the breeze with you, Doc.”
Then he scooped up Ollo’s grocery bag and walked out of the room, chatting to Ollo who strolled along next to him.
Kes looked hard and dangerous as he handed the doctor a business card, staring the man down.
“Whatever Ollo needs, you tell me. Understand?”
The doctor nodded, a tight-lipped expression on his face as he tucked the card away.
Zach was waiting in the hospital’s parking lot, leaning against his truck door as he idled in a tow zone. Bo sat on the truck’s hood, clutching a soft toy in the shape of a pig. I recognized it as a prize from one of the sideshows.
Bo shrieked and chattered excitedly, dropping the toy to climb into Ollo’s arms and cling to him as if he’d never let him go.
“Everything okay?” Zach asked, shaking hands with Ollo.
“Sure, no problems,” Kes said.
I watched with a smile on my face as the four of them climbed into Zach’s truck and drove away.
Tucker stretched his arms over his head, his washed-out t-shirt pulling taut over his lean muscles.
“Want to go back to the fairground with them?”
I shook my head. The place creeped me out a little. It had been closed for two weeks while the fire was investigated, but the twisted steel carcass of the Big Top hadn’t yet been torn down, and just seeing it gave me shivers.
It turned out that a delivery driver had left a propane gas cylinder next to a hot dog stand. The Fire Department decided that the cylinder was probably leaking gas when it exploded.
It was sheer blind luck that there were no human casualties, but three of Yolanda’s dogs had died. Tucker said he’d seen one of them—it had been too terrified by the flames to come to him, and he hadn’t been able to reach it.
Yolanda mourned the loss of her friends, as did all the carnie folk. Just because a person has fur and paws, doesn’t make them any less loved. Those dogs were her family. She still had Maverick, thank God, but they drifted around the fairground side-by-side and if Maverick was left alone for even a minute, we heard him howling in distress.
Bo was quiet and shaky for several days, spending most of his time clinging to Aimee, hiding his fearful face in her hair.
All of the guys had been treated for smoke inhalation and had been kept in the hospital for 24 hour observation, and Zef had a badly sprained wrist, as well. That was a long day. Seeing Tucker lying on a gurney again—I dreaded to imagine that it might be something I would have to get used to.
It was worse for Kes because we’d all been waiting to hear about Ollo. The little man had nearly died, and the two weeks of his hospital stay was the longest he’d ever been away from his carnival home. He’d hated every moment. Kes had taken it hard, wanting to believe that Ollo was indestructible. But nothing lasts forever. Even Connor had come down to visit Ollo in hospital. He was their last link with the past.
Most of the carnies had left for their winter camp, but a few were still on site. In another week, Kes and Aimee were heading up the coast to Arcata with Ollo. Luke and Zach were going with them, planning to build their own cabin on Kes’s land.
“Back to your place then?” said Tucker, raising an eyebrow as my gaze tracked across his firm chest and narrow hips.
“Our place,” I corrected him automatically.
Tucker grinned and tugged me forward so he could zip up my leather jacket. Oh, and cop a feel along the way. Hmm, well, he wasn’t the only one who could play that game. Soon, I was beginning to wonder if we’d make it out of the parking lot at all, but eventually, we had to come up for air.
I’d gone a long way from being the Senator’s daughter, afraid of PDA and the possible ensuing publicity.
Tucker helped me onto the terrifyingly high pillion seat on the Ducati. I still hadn’t gotten used to it, and it didn’t feel particularly safe,
but Tucker was careful when I rode with him. And I have to admit, the throaty roar as he started the engine was darn sexy. Just like Tucker.
As we neared my apartment, I sat up straighter, then clung to Tucker when I made the bike wobble.
Parked outside was a dark sedan.
Tucker cruised to a halt and kicked down the bike-stand then swung off the seat and turned to help me down.
The driver’s door opened and my father climbed out. We stared at each across the sidewalk, until I felt Tucker’s hands unfastening my helmet. He’d already removed his own and his expression was concerned.
“You don’t have to talk to him, sugar.”
I gave a small smile. “No, that’s fine. But . . . stay with me?”
He took my hand in unspoken acknowledgement and we walked toward the Senator.
“Hello, Tera,” he said, flicking a gaze to Tucker before meeting my eyes.
“Hi, Dad.”
Tucker stood silently next to me, his face unreadable.
My father cleared his throat. “Your mother misses you.
“I miss her, too,” I said honestly. “But she knows where she can find me. Obviously.”
He glanced at Tucker again, who had remained uncharacteristically mute.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” Dad asked at last.
“Sure,” I said evenly. “Come on in.”
“Somewhere private,” he said smoothly.
I cocked my head on one side. “What could be more private than our apartment, Dad?”
I saw him frown when I said ‘our apartment’, but the emotion was immediately cleared from his face. He changed his tactics, turning to Tucker.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I spoke privately to my daughter, would you?”
Tucker gave a cool smile. “No, I don’t mind, but Tera asked me to stay, so I’m staying.”
Dad was too used to the political game to show his annoyance, but I could tell that he was more than a little irritated at our refusal to play by his rules.
I tucked my hand into the pocket of Tucker’s leather jacket, and he smiled down at me, placing his arm around my shoulders.