Alina & The Greatest Show on Earth, Part 2

Sept. 1884

Oklahoma Territory

As Dr. Rigby and I approached my family’s caravan, I moved away from him.

“Your uncle would disapprove of me helping you?” he asked, glancing down at me.

I nodded, shyly, looking away.

“Very well, Miss Cioban.”

He took a couple of steps away from me, and I felt his gentle warmth leave.

“Have you been examined by a doctor yet?”

“No, she hasn’t, and she doesn’t need one,” my uncle said from behind us. I jumped and turned around to see him walking towards us. I felt lightheaded at the quick motion.

“Get inside,” he growled. With a quick glance at the doctor, I mumbled thank you and hurried up the steps where my grandmother and aunt were waiting.

“Lina… who is that man?” my grandmother asked, using my childhood nickname. She sat at the small table, her weathered hands clutching her coffee cup.

“He’s the doctor for the circus, I think.”

Both she and my aunt exchanged a look, their eyes narrowing.

“And why is he bringing you back to the caravan?” my aunt asked, her voice sharp and laced with suspicion.

“I was sick outside Mr. Barnum’s tent after my dinner.”

My aunt took in a sharp breath.

“You must stay away from Mr. Barnum. The less he sees of you, the better.”

“Yes, Aunt,” I said, worried I’d upset her. We were on thin ice with Mr. Barnum as it was.

I glanced through the window. The curtains fluttered with the breeze, and through the gap, I could see my uncle outside. He was speaking sternly to Doctor Rigby, gesturing wildly. The doctor kept trying to reply, but Uncle wouldn’t allow it. His voice was too loud, too angry.

My grandmother came to the window and gently pulled me away. “Let the men speak their piece, child,” she said softly. Then she placed her hands over my stomach and whispered a blessing in Romanian. I was led to sit on the bed.

My aunt resumed sipping her coffee, eyes fixed on the door, waiting for the storm to pass. Eventually, my uncle returned.

“You’re to stay away from that man. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Uncle,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. If I lost us our place here, I doubted another circus would hire us.

My grandmother muttered something about fate in Romanian. My uncle spat out the door. “She’s not to see him. Understood? Men like that… they’re no good.”

“But he’s a doctor,” my aunt said cautiously. “Couldn’t she at least speak with him—for the baby?”

My uncle’s glare silenced her. “Only if one of you is with her. But she’s not to be alone with him. That’s final. It's probably lucky she's already pregnant.” He stormed out, muttering about “women and their foolishness.”

I felt as if I'd been slapped as my aunt poured the rest of her coffee out the door, then came to sit beside me. She and my grandmother took a hand each, holding me close, murmuring a blessing for me and the child.

I had been sure no one in my family wanted the baby, but these blessings made me think differently. Perhaps I was wrong.

“Sleep now, daughter,” my grandmother whispered, guiding me up into the upper bunk.

Later, as I lay there, I thought about the doctor’s gentle hand on my back, the kindness in his eyes. He had a calm, quiet way about him. I remembered the palm reading my grandmother had done when she discovered I was with child. She had said the father would be a healer… a gentle man. Could that be him?

I drifted into dreams of Doctor Rigby leading us away from the circus. We lived in a little house in the city, where milk was fresh, bread was warm, and fat hens gave us eggs every morning.

I woke nauseous from those dreams. I pressed a lavender sachet, hand-stitched by Marte, against my cheek to quell the nausea.

The next morning, the circus was a blur of bustle and barking orders. I hurried out of the caravan as Edie ran past.

“What’s going on?” I called.

“We’re breaking camp!” Her face was alight with excitement. “Heading to Colorado! I’ve got to go help Marte!” She ran off, her red curls bouncing down her back.

I found my aunt and grandmother in the kitchen tent, packing up supplies.

“Alina!” my aunt called. “Help us pack!”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked, hurrying to help with the dishes.

“You needed the rest. For the baby.”

As the tent collapsed around us, I saw Edie’s husband, Franz, and Matthias loading cages for the cats, Matthias’ father supervising. My breath caught as I gazed at Matthias. His bare, broad shoulders and dark hair curling at his neck made me feel all the emotions I’d felt for him before the baby. I remembered how silky his hair felt. He looked up, met my gaze, scowled, and turned away. And it felt as if I’d been doused in cold water.

I felt someone watching. Doctor Rigby stood nearby, sipping coffee, eyes flicking between Matthias and me. He gave a slight nod but didn’t come closer.

***

Several days later, once we’d camped, and as the sun set over the plains—a sky painted in lavender and rose, soft and wide—I sat quietly, nibbling biscuits and a few peaches from my grandmother’s stores. Peaches were one of the only things I could keep down. I saw Doctor Rigby again, this time walking with a pretty elephant handler. Jealousy stirred hot and fast in my belly.

He nodded toward me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright, doctor,” I said, trying not to sound breathless.

“If you need anything, I’m in the tent just there.” He pointed. The girl at his side smiled too sweetly when he turned back to her; her face a scowl when he’d been talking to me. My uncle grunted nearby, watching us.

“Good,” he muttered. “Let him chase someone else.”

But my grandmother was watching too, and so was my aunt. They exchanged a glance. My aunt muttered something and spat into the earth where the girl and doctor had just passed, grabbed a handful of dirt, and sprinkled it on my shoulders. My eyes widened.

They were casting a spell. They were matchmaking.

My aunt clipped a lock of my hair and, when no one was around, tossed it before the doctor’s tent.

“All will be well, child,” she said, patting my shoulder. I knew better than to challenge them or reverse the spell. If they wanted to match me with Dr. Rigby, I would let them.

***

When I passed his tent the next morning, he emerged, his sleeves rolled up, collar unbuttoned. With the strong column of his throat and upper chest and bare arms showing, he looked every bit the gallant hero of the romantic penny novels Marte read.

“Oh, Miss Cioban,” he said, startled. “I didn’t expect—well, not that it’s unwelcome.” He smiled at me.

My heart fluttered.

“Where are you off to?”

“To see my friends, Marte and Edie.”

“Ah, the trapeze artists?” he asked. “I heard you were one, once.”

I nodded, pleased he’d been asking about me. “Before… well, before everything.”

“And that man you were looking at yesterday…is he the father?”

I hesitated. His tone wasn’t unkind, just curious.

“Yes,” I whispered. “He is.”

“Did your uncle chase him off?” His tone held a smile.

“No. He wanted nothing to do with me when he found out.”

Doctor Rigby’s brow furrowed. “And your family…? They’re not pressing him to take care of you and his child?”

“They say we’re better off without him. To count the baby as a blessing and it’s best to be rid of scum like him.” I couldn’t believe I was telling him all of this but felt better for it. I’d only been able to confide in Marte and Edie.

To my surprise, he laughed. “Despite your uncle being very intimidating, I admire his spirit and protection of his family.”

“He can be rather abrupt, Dr. Rigby,” I said, looking down at my hands.

Doctor Rigby laughed again. “That's one way of putting it. Your uncle seems adamant that you be alone, though.”

I found myself gazing into his kind eyes. I realized they were the complete opposite from Matthias’. His were edgy, sharp, always on the lookout for something; I’d just never known what.

“My uncle is quite old-fashioned when it comes to marriage and courting. And me being with child does not help matters. I think he's just trying to protect me.”

He nodded. “Completely understandable. I would probably do the same for my own daughter, or niece, in this case.” He looked at the bustle of everyone packing up. “Have your aunt and uncle not had any children?”

“My aunt has been unable to carry a child, unfortunately.” I wasn’t sure if my aunt and uncle would be glad to know I was confiding this, but Dr. Rigby felt trustworthy, so I carried on. “When my parents, my aunt’s sister, died, they took me in, and I've lived with them in the circus ever since.”

“You've been with the circus your whole life?” he asked, eyebrows raised, hands in his pockets.

I nodded. “It's the only thing I know. I was walking the tightrope as soon as I was walking,” I added, attempting lightness.

“I’m finding as each day passes, that I am glad I answered Mr. Barnum’s ad for a doctor.” He studied my face intently. “I hope this isn’t the last time I see you,” he said.

I found myself at a loss for words, so finally said,

“I suppose that depends on my uncle.”

“Then I’ll try to convince him. Or I’ll come by for you to read my fortune.” He was smiling broadly, and I knew he was teasing me, but I didn’t mind. “I’d like to speak again, Miss Cioban if you’ll allow it.”

“I would like that very much, Dr. Rigby.” I walked away with a smile that refused to leave my face. I couldn’t wait to tell Marte and Edie.

Return next week for part three!

If you missed last week's chapter, you can read it here.