|
Touch
of Magic
by Myla Jackson
Chapter
One
Catarina Novak settled
the heavy purple cloak around her bare shoulders, pulling
the tie-string away from choking her throat. Lightning
danced in a circle, held tight by her assistant Nora
Jane Sims. The cloak spooked the solid white Arabian
stallion she'd inherited from her mentor, The Amazing
Mancini.
"Are you sure
you want to do this?" Nora Jane fought to hold
the stallion steady.
Leaving their bags
at the hotel in Abilene, they'd ridden out early that
morning before the sun rose to prepare for her introduction
to potential theater patrons. Now, half a mile east
of the city, they prepared for the grand entrance to
the Golden Garter Theater and Saloon. This would be
Catarina's first magic show without Marco Mancini. The
old magician had insisted she was ready, telling her
she was as good, or better, than he had ever been.
That had been a few
minutes before he'd passed on due to a nasty bout of
pneumonia.
Cat wrinkled her
nose at the smell of the stockyards, reminding herself
that horrendous stench was the smell of money. The town
was teeming with cowboys, merchants and cattle. There
should be a good crowd at the theater tonight. Especially
if she made a spectacular display and enticed more people
to come to the show.
"I have to do
this. We need the money to pay our hotel bill and get
us to Chicago." Catarina settled the cape over
the hindquarters of the stallion and reached out. "Let
me have the reins."
"I don't know
about this. I can get a job washing clothes or something.
You don't have to do this, you know. Lightning only
likes to be ridden by men."
"Nonsense, as a laundress, you'd never save enough
money to get to Chicago and your sister. We have to
do this. Besides, Lightning won't know the difference
between me and Mr. Mancini, other than the side saddle."
Nora Jane shook her
bright copper curls. "You don't weigh no more than
a tumbleweed Ms. Catarina, and that horse knows it.
Why he could throw you so fast you won't know what hit
you until you wake up dead."
"I'm an excellent
rider. Don't worry about me, nothing bad will happen."
She hoped her streak of bad luck and little accidents
didn't jinx this show. She and Nora Jean needed the
money to stay alive and move farther east. "Now,
I have to get or I'll miss the afternoon crowd in town."
"I don't know."
She handed Cat the reins but held the strap by the horse's
mouth. "Lightning ain't likin' that cape, none."
"He'll have
to get used to it." She glanced down at the black
satin dress sprinkled with painted silver stars and
smiled at the gift Signor Mancini had bestowed on her
before their last show together. Her vision blurred.
If not for Mancini, she didn't know what might have
become of her. He'd taken her in as a young widow when
her husband died of pneumonia on their way out west.
She didn't have time
to ruminate on the past. Her future awaited. "Let
go, Nora Jane. I have a job to do."
The redhead stepped
back. "Break a leg, Ms. Catarina."
"Thanks."
She took a deep breath, turned her mount in the direction
of the Golden Garter and sank her heels into the horse's
flanks.
Trace Adams trudged
across the busy Main Street of Abilene, Kansas, bone-weary
and covered in dust and grime from months on a cattle
drive from Amarillo, Texas.
"Can't wait
for that drink you promised me a hundred miles ago."
Jay Tyler clapped his hat against his thigh, sending
up a puff of dust.
"And you'll
get that drink. You and the boys worked hard."
The excitement of
reaching Kansas was more over the prospect of a bath
and a new set of boots and clothing, than from actually
delivering the animals. Sure, he was glad to get his
herd to the stockyards and he'd be even happier to get
paid for the six hundred head of longhorns he'd driven
over hundreds of miles with minimal losses. But what
he wanted most was a clean body, a soft bed and twenty-four
hours of uninterrupted sleep.
"Well, since
we're finally in Abilene, have you made up your mind?"
Jay asked.
Trace took a deep
breath and let it out slowly. "Nope."
"You can't keep
Martha hanging." Jay pounded him hard on the back.
"You need to shit or get out of the outhouse."
"I know. It's
just that we've known each other all our lives. I've
never thought of marrying anyone else, but still."
"What you need
is to sow a few wild oats. Ride a few other fillies
before you settle on the mare of your dreams."
"I'm not buying
a horse." No, Martha wasn't a horse, but Trace
felt like a horse trader being stuck with one horse
to choose from and he was chafing at the prospect. Not
that Martha wasn't a good horse-woman. She was one of
the best, a fine solid woman with everything a man wanted
and needed for a ranch wife. When he'd left, she'd insisted
on a parting kiss-their first. A chaste kiss for the
proper woman.
For he two months he'd been on the trail, he'd thought
about that kiss and how he'd felt nothing-no spark,
no connection, no stirring in his loins.
Nothing.
Perhaps Jay was right.
He needed a comparison, a chance to experience other
women before he settled with Martha. The catch being,
he was more or less promised to Martha. Trying out other
women would be like cheating on his future wife. He
respected Martha too much to cheat on her. No, he had
to make this decision without perusing the corral of
other fillies.
When he and Jay were
only halfway across the thoroughfare, a loud whooping
sound caught Trace's attention. Men gathered on the
broad boardwalks, every one of them facing to the east.
A shout went up as a cloud of dust blew their way.
"What the hell?"
Jay turned to face Main Street.
Too tired to really care, Trace made it across to the
front entrance of the Golden Garter Saloon, bent on
ordering a whiskey before tackling the job of cleaning
up.
As he set his foot
on the boardwalk, he turned to Jay.
"Whoa, will
ya look at her." Jay's mouth hung open, his eyes
wide.
Emerging from the
cloud of dust was a solid white horse racing through
the street at breakneck speed. Perched in a sidesaddle
on its back was a beautiful woman with a long, flowing
black mane of hair, as beautiful and wild as the horse
she rode. She wore a star-sprinkled black dress and
a purple cape that appeared to be choking the living
daylights out of her. By the way she leaned back on
the reins, she was no where near in control of the rampaging
horse and if she didn't slow the horse soon, someone
was likely to get hurt.
"Damn, that
horse is a run away," Jay said.
Without thinking,
Trace leaped off the boardwalk onto the hard-packed
dirt of Main Street and directly into the path of the
charging horse. When he didn't move out of the horse's
way, the horse planted his hooves in the dirt, skidding
to a halt. Then he reared, his rider hanging on to the
saddle horn, her eyes wide, her long black hair swirling
around her face.
Trace reached out, captured the reins and brought the
horse back to the ground.
When all four of
the horse's hooves were firmly planted on the ground,
the woman grasped the string around her throat and pulled
it away from her skin, a thin red line marring her pearly
white throat. She gulped air for several seconds and
then turned a brilliant smile toward the men lining
the boardwalk. With a wide and graceful sweep of her
arm, she shouted, "Gentleman, let me introduce
myself." In a voice only Trace could hear, she
said, "Step away from the horse."
"Are you crazy?"
He held the horse's nose down. The animal's ears still
lay back against his head and the whites of his eyes
shown. If he let go, the woman would be flat on her
butt in the dirt. But then maybe she needed that lesson.
"I need the
room for my entrance," she hissed for his ears
only. For the crowd, she stood in the single stirrup
and waved her hand again. "I am the Amazing Catarina,
magician and mesmerist extraordinaire!" After she
said the words, she gathered her skirts and jumped from
the horse's back. When she hit the ground, she flung
her heavy purple cape in a sweeping arc.
The cape flapped
in Trace's face. The Arabian stallion reared again,
lifting Trace from the ground. Holding on with all his
might, he fought to calm the horse.
The woman continued.
"Join me at the Golden Garter tonight at eight
for daring feats of magical wonder and delight."
When she waved her
cape again, the horse leaped forward, taking Trace with
him, dragging him down the length of Main Street. All
he could hear over the thundering hooves, so dangerously
close to his own feet, was the woman saying, "See?
I can make a cowboy disappear with just the wave of
my cape."
Laughter followed
him to the end of the street and out onto the prairie.
|
