In my experience, people who hid the truth also had other things that they were hiding from.

  I glanced out of the workshop door at the light fading from the sky. I didn’t have a TV and rarely drank, so I had two choices for entertainment in the thrilling social life that was Huck Berry’s: start work on her wagon, or go for a ride, or maybe find somewhere quiet to take a swim and cool down.

  Irritated that I was thinking about her again, I decided to pick door number two and blow off some steam. I was about to lock up the workshop when I spotted a bunch of rags behind an old oil drum. I frowned, wondering who’d left them there—I didn’t think Claude had been in the workshop at all today. Leaving rags laying around was a fire hazard; they really shouldn’t be there. But as I approached, the rags turned out to be a scrawny kid of maybe 12 or 13 trying to hide from me.

  “Hey!” I yelled, as I grabbed his arm. “What are you doing here? This is private property.”

  “I didn’t do anything, jerk-off!” he yelped, trying to tug his arm free. “I was just looking!”

  “Uh-huh, looking for what you can steal.”

  “I’m not a thief! I didn’t do anything!”

  “Says you.”

  “Fuck you, you fucking pedo!” he screamed, his tennis shoes thumping against my shins. “Let me go! Gerroff me, you freak!”

  I hauled him out of the workshop before I let him go, almost amused as he swore up a storm and spit in my general direction.

  What a little shit—he reminded me of me at that age.

  Once he was out of reach, he turned and gave me the finger with both hands, then darted away like a scalded cat when I pretended I was coming after him.

  The kid was fast and quickly disappeared from sight, but I was fairly sure I’d scared him enough not to come back.

  Even still, I checked all the windows, doors and locks before I headed out on my bike.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gypsy

  Mac looked up, a soft, warning growl rippling up from his throat.

  I rested my hand on his warm fur, reassuring him.

  “Don’t worry, it’s Huck.”

  I can’t tell you how the Gift works, only that it’s like being tuned in to a different frequency from everyone else.

  A second later, I heard the rumbling roar of his motorbike, slowing as it neared, then sputtering slightly as it bounced down the dirt track to the river.

  Mo trotted out to meet him, and I drooped a little as I heard his soft curse when he saw her. He’d probably come out here hoping to be alone, and his footsteps faltered as if he was deciding whether or not to come closer or pretend that he didn’t know I was here. A small smile ghosted across my face when I heard his footsteps continue, and he appeared from behind the trees.

  “Hello, Huck.”

  Dezzie gave a soft snicker of welcome, but Huck looked uncomfortable. “I wasn’t following you.”

  “I know. Would you like some tea?”

  “Tea?” He looked around him as if half expecting me to offer him a glass of sweet tea with ice cubes floating in it.

  “Herbal tea,” I grinned at him. “Mint tea. Try it, you’ll like it.”

  “I don’t want to bother you none.”

  “Sure, and you’re not bothering us at all.”

  Mac settled down, resting his nose on the edge of my blanket and Dezzie went back to chewing the sweet grass that grew by the river.

  Hesitating for a moment, Huck squatted in the dirt next to my small fire, looking surprised as Mo came and sat next to him, leaning her furry little backside against his hip. Hesitantly, he patted her gently, and she panted with pleasure. I suspected he had the same effect on most females.

  He watched with interest as I used the edge of the blanket like oven gloves, plucking my kettle from where it hung on a forked stick over my campfire, then poured boiling water over the dried mint leaves in my favorite mug.

  “Mmm,” I said, breathing in the aroma of the tea before I handed it to him, “there’s something so refreshing about mint tea, don’t you think?”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever had it before,” he said, peering suspiciously at the leaves floating in the water. He sniffed it tentatively. “Smells like gum.”

  I grinned at him. “Once you’ve tried this, you’ll never want to go back to coffee.”

  He snorted with derision. “I seriously doubt that.” He glanced across at me. “Aren’t you having one?”

  “Usually, yes, but I only brought one cup with me,” I smiled.

  He held the mug towards me. “You have it.”

  “Aw, you’re so sweet, but I made this for you,” I said, pushing his hand away.

  He eyed me warily, much the way Mac had done until he’d become used to me.

  “Uh, so after you left, I realized that I’d only told you about the deposit for the repair work.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah, so I did some checking and it’s going to be a little more than I thought: a pair of new axles is going to run you $250, plus a day’s labor. So … $350 or $400.”

  My heart sank. I had some money saved but it was for emergencies and those repairs would leave me stony broke. I knew that Kes would lend me the money, but I didn’t like to ask. Thank goodness I’d start earning once the fairground opened tomorrow. I didn’t want to tell Ma, she needed all her savings, which wasn’t much.

  “That’s fine,” I said, trying to sound confident.

  “You sure?” he asked, hearing what I wasn’t saying.

  “Absolutely! Not a problem. No siree. Not for this Irish lass. Nope.”

  He shook his head and took a sip of the mint tea.

  “Good?” I asked, watching his face carefully.

  “Kind of watery, but yeah,” he said grudgingly. “It’s okay.”

  I laughed lightly. “It’s a whole lot better than okay, but I won’t make you admit it.”

  He took a few more sips, then glanced up at me, his gaze thoughtful.

  “So, you’re with the circus?”

  “Oh, don’t let the carnies hear you call it a circus! It’s a carnival—there’s a difference.”

  “Yeah? Such as?”

  Was he asking because he was interested, or just being polite. Never mind. I loved talking about our culture, and my mam said I could talk for Ireland anyway.

  “Well now, they come from different historical traditions. Circus is Latin for ring, so it was where those Romans held chariot races and that, like in Ben Hur, which evolved into Big Top acts—and, by the way, Circe is the Greek goddess of enchantment, but I don’t know if that has anything to do with it. But a traveling carnival is a celebration of life, and a reversal of the norm, throwing out the rules,” I grinned, “but with food and drink, games, and displays of the amazing—and it used to be what they called grotesques, too. You know, the dog-faced boy, the bearded lady, pop-eyes, human ostriches—although you still get some of those. And traveling carnivals are usually bigger than circuses and have a ton of joints and poppers, as well as rides, thrill acts like sword-swallowers and fire breathers; sometimes animal acts like rodeo clowns, and of course, people like me.”

  He scratched his ear. “I don’t think I understood about a quarter of that.”

  “Ah, you’ve got to learn the language, Huck! A ‘joint’ is one of the games of chance or skill, like a shooting gallery; a ‘popper’ or a ‘grab’ is a food stand. But ya know, these are all American terms—your education is sorely lacking! Thrill acts are the kind of thing my cousin does—he’s a motorcycle stunt rider.”

  “That so?” he said, his eyes sparking with interest. “Motorcycle stunts? I didn’t know the fair, um, carnival had that.”

  “You should check it out.”

  I stretched out my legs, hoping he’d check me out while we were on the subject. I saw him glance, but then he decided to be a gentleman and look away again. Sheesh, what did a girl have to do? Advertise?

  “Yeah,” I continued. “He’s pretty amazing—you’ll love the stunts. When you come to the fairground, just tell them that Gypsy sent you. Then you won’t have to pay.” I paused. “Consider it as interest on what I owe you.”

  He looked at me sideways to see if I was teasing him.

  I wondered if he’d take a down payment in person … my person, to be specific.

  “I mean it. I think you’ll enjoy it—I know he’s my family, but he’s amazing … and he’s pretty famous.”

  He scowled at the fire, sipping his tea.

  “So, will you come? I know you have a lot of work, but don’t tell me you’re working all weekend—all work and no play makes Huck a dull boy.”

  And I leaned backwards on my elbows, throwing him a challenging smile.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got this gypsy wagon to fix, so yeah, I’ll be working all weekend.”

  “Take an hour off, it’ll be good for you,” and I winked at him.

  He almost, almost smiled back. Ah, I still had it … I think.

  “How come you left Ireland?” he said at last, and I was glad he was interested enough to ask, but that wasn’t a question I wanted to answer—not right now.

  “Just traveling here and there,” I said breezily although feeling a lot less relaxed. “What about you? Why did you come to El Dorado?”

  “Just traveling here and there,” he smirked. “What a coincidence.”

  “Smart arse! I already told you that I was meeting up with my cousin. Anyway,” I shrugged, “I’m not very good at staying in one place. When the midwife looked into my eyes, she said to my mother, ‘This one will travel’. I guess she was right.” I smiled at him. “I enjoy traveling and meeting new people—like you, maybe?”

  He frowned, then changed the subject.

  “You come from a big family?”

  I nodded, hiding the ache in my heart and smiling broadly. “Huge—there’s dozens of us all over the place. What about you?”

  His gaze dropped to his cup and his smile dimmed.

  “Nope, just me.”

  “Well,” I said quietly, “family isn’t just the people who share your blood, it’s the people you choose to travel with, as well.”

  “You get that out for a fortune cookie?” he said nastily, tossing the rest of the tea into the dirt.

  It didn’t take any special gift to see that the subject of family was a touchy one. I wasn’t going to be upset with him.

  “No, just experience,” I said gently.

  He stood up, leaving the cup in the dirt. “Work should be done by the time you leave.”

  “Thank you, Huck.”

  He scowled again then turned and strode away.

  Mac followed his retreating form with his eyes, and Mo looked at me quizzically.

  “He’s lonely,” I said, stroking Mo. “And not good with people.”

  I picked up the cup, rolling it inside my blanket, climbed onto Dezzie’s back and headed home to the fairground.

  I was 90% sure that Huck was one of the people I’d come here to help, but you can’t force someone to accept your help, and half the deal is waiting for them to acknowledge that they need it. And I liked him. He could be the one: he could be the soulmate I’d been searching for. Beneath the roughness and the bluster, he was kind.

  And did I happen to mention that the other parts were very attractive, too?

  Dawn rose over El Dorado and it truly earned its name. The golden morning light cast a halo over the town, and the pale pink sky was shot through with orange and purple.

  I sat with my knees under my chin, watching the world waken, feeling the Earth spin beneath me, feeling that voiceless connection to all those billions of lives. I drifted with them, listening to the thoughts that called the loudest.

  I heard the door of the RV open and the spell was broken. Mo looked up expectantly as the other carnies started to appear.

  I’d put my bedroll next to Kes’s fire last night, a short distance from his RV. Aimee had wanted me to sleep inside, but I knew that Mac wouldn’t be comfortable being indoors.

  I stretched, stroking Mo’s little body, then pulling on a pair of shorts so I was decent for walking around.

  I knew that Kes and Aimee were awake because the RV was rocking and I could hear Aimee trying to be quiet. She wasn’t.

  “I wish Huck would make the vardo rock with me,” I sighed to myself.

  I loved the vardo but it was a tad short on plumbing, so it was a treat to jump in the RV’s hot shower, although with three adults and a child waiting to use it, I had to be quick.

  As I sat outside after a quick wash, letting my hair dry in the morning sun, I saw Zef’s little boy holding hands with the woman I assumed was his mother.

  “Hi, I’m Sara,” she smiled shyly. “I think you’ve already met our son, Ollie. I’m so sorry I didn’t come to meet you last night—I had a crazy deadline. I meant to, honestly, but I fell asleep in front of the computer.”

  “A treat to meet you, Sara,” I said. “Tucker was telling me about the documentary Legends that you made about Donohue’s Daredevils. It sounds amazing and I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

  She smiled and ducked her head. “Thank you. I’ve been lucky.”

  “Lucky and talented, now there’s a winning combination. Throw in ‘happy’ and the love of a good man, and I think you’ve won the lottery ticket of life.”

  “I really have,” she giggled.

  “Mommy, can I pet the dogs?” Ollie asked.

  “You need to ask Gypsy,” she said patiently, “because they’re her dogs and not all dogs are friendly.”

  Definitely not the time to tell her that Mac was a bit more than a dog.

  Mo wagged her little backside and tried to snuggle into Ollie’s lap, which made him giggle with happiness, and even Mac raised his nose and gave the toddler a tentative sniff.

  “Uh oh, stinky butt,” Sara sighed, wrinkling her nose. “I guess I’d better take care of this. I keep thinking he’s done with diapers during the night, but every now and then he’ll prove me wrong. I’ll see you later. They always say boys are slower—Dove was dry at night after the first year.” She shook her head. “Never mind, Ollie. This way, mister.”

  She walked away with the three-and-a-half year-old toddling beside her. Seeing her happiness, it didn’t get any easier.

  As the sun rose higher, Aimee appeared, flushed and bright-eyed.

  “Hi, Gypsy! Did you sleep well?”

  “I did, and it’s another grand day. Can I help with breakfast? I was going to make a start but I wasn’t sure about your routine, and I didn’t want to mess up the system. But you’ve got those blueberries that need eating up.”

  She laughed.

  “How did you know that? Yes, blueberry pancakes, but the starving barbarians will eat anything you make, and all of it.”

  “Good to know,” I grinned at her. “Now put me to work.”

  After breakfast was eaten and cleared away, Aimee went to start her summer school program for the carnie kids. She told me that she taught a broad curriculum, with twenty children between the ages of five and fifteen, plus six toddlers that a couple of mothers helped look after, using one of the RVs as a kindergarten.

  “I can always use an extra pair of hands,” she said hopefully.

  I forced a smile. “I need to go into town to check on the vardo,” I said evasively. “Maybe another time.”

  “Sure,” she said easily, although her eyes were full of questions. “We’ll see you later.”

  I walked over to find out how Dezzie was doing. She’d been introduced to the rodeo ponies the night before and seemed happy to have company of her own kind, even if she was twice their size.

  “Dezzie, girl! Howaya! Are you having fun? No, you don’t need to work today. It’ll do you good to have a long rest after the miles we’ve traveled. Mac will stay to keep you company, although you seem to be doing just fine in that direction.”

  Mac looked up as I said his name, then closed his eyes blissfully while I stroked his flank, sinking my fingers into his thick fur. I made sure his red and white kerchief was fastened around his neck, which he bore reluctantly. I didn’t have a collar for him because he wasn’t a pet.

  Mo kept me company as I walked into town, trotting along beside me, occasionally stopping to sniff something of special interest, which was often.

  I noticed a bright red English telephone box in the center of town, which I definitely had not expected to see. Someone had filled it with paperbacks and there was a note telling people to help themselves. I hoped that Huck had seen it—proof that people did do things for others with no expectation of reward.

  Only a few telephone boxes like this one still existed in Britain, and the ones in Ireland were painted green. I liked the red ones best—they were cheerful.

  The morning commute had already begun even though it was only just 7am. I didn’t own a watch and only knew it was time to eat by the growling of my stomach, but there was a clock in the main square.

  I could see Tilly through the window of the diner so I tapped on the glass, waving when she saw me.

  She frowned and came to the door.

  “We don’t open for another half-hour,” she said, pointing at the notice of opening hours, then bending down to scratch Mo behind her ears.

  Mo gazed up at Tilly adoringly, and I wondered if my sweet mutt wasn’t laying it on a bit thick. That little madam would do anything for a rasher of bacon.

  “Sure,” I answered, “we can wait out here.”

  She frowned, then sighed. “Come on in and set a while. The coffee machine is just warming up.”

  “You’re phone’s ringing.”

  “I don’t hear anything … oh!”