Summer Magic Page 7

  Michael reached down to retrieve it. "What's this?"

  "A flyer. We got it at a tourist information center," Rita quickly supplied. "It tells about all the stuff going on in Galveston this summer." She tossed her shoulder-length auburn hair and added, "So what y'all been up to?"

  "Sight-seeing," Michael answered, his voice level. He turned the flyer over, scanned it, then without comment, handed it back to Claudette.

  "We've been hitting the antique shops and jewelry stores," Rita said. She turned to Michael and flashed him a resplendent smile. Rummaging through her shopping bags, she fished out a small white box, then popped it open. "Isn't this lovely, Michael?"

  He peered inside the box and smiled back. "An emerald ring! Very nice."

  All the while, Lisa sat back silently, taking in this animated exchange. She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or not-so-amused.

  The tram lunged forward and they were once again clopping along. They rounded the corner past an old stone church. A young couple with two whiney kids in tow stopped to gawk.

  "Are you planning to see the fireworks display on the beach tonight?" Claudette asked. Her gaze flicked momentarily onto Lisa, then back to Michael. "Or are you two gonna make your own sparks fly?"

  Lisa's face burned. She had all she could do to keep tossing back an insulting reply.

  "Claudette! That's entirely uncalled for," Michael said icily.

  "Pardon me." Claudette tipped her chin, apparently not rebuffed. "Well, whatever you do, Michael, I just hope you save some time for the Fourth of July street dance on the Strand tonight."

  "Where's the Strand?" he asked.

  "That's the National Historic Landmark District downtown," Rita answered for Claudette.

  "Oh, yeah...now I remember." Michael's eyes sought Lisa's as if silently asking whether she'd like to go.

  "So meet us on the Strand about eight-thirty," Rita prompted. "It's going to be fabulous. The band's the best around. I'm even acquainted with the drummer, a guy by the name of Danny Holcomb."

  "Rita, how do you know so much about Galveston?" Lisa asked, hoping to divert the conversation. Without a doubt, trouble was brewing. Try as she might, she couldn't blot out the memory of Rita lingering by Michael's dressing room that first night she'd arrived.

  "I was born and raised not far from here," Rita replied. "My daddy's the manager of a big condo complex next to the beach. I thought Claudette already told y'all." Her lips lifted in a pouty smile.

  "No, she didn't," Michael answered cautiously. "She said you'd both be like lost sheep trying to find your way around--though of course she's visited this city as many times as I."

  Claudette's face matched her ruby red lipstick. She averted her gaze to the landscape passing by, fanning herself with the flyer and saying nothing.

  "Oh, that silly sister of yours," Rita said as if Claudette had somehow suddenly disappeared. "How could've she forgotten about my daddy? We're such good friends now, I swear she knows everything about me."

  Claudette looked pointedly at Michael. "Hold on, everyone. Somehow we seem to be getting off the subject. A couple of minutes ago, Michael, I asked if you and Lisa would like to meet us at the street dance. You still haven't answered me."

  "Well..." Michael shrugged. "Maybe. I can't remember the last time I got to go to a dance." He looked expectantly at Lisa again, allowing his thoughts to take flight. He could imagine her in his arms, all soft and feminine, swaying to the beat of the music, her petite body pressed close to his. So why not? Besides, the place would most likely be packed. He and Lisa would have little problem ditching Claudette and Rita.

  "What do you say, Lisa?" he asked, his gaze still fixed on her.

  She read the eagerness in his eyes. Clearly Michael wanted to go. How could she say no? After all this was his holiday too. She had to admit, dancing under the moon and stars did sound romantic. And Michael probably already had a plan in mind to keep his twin sister from trying to bamboozle him.

  Lisa shrugged too. "Sounds okay to me."

  Claudette beamed.

  Rita also appeared pleased.

  The sound of Rita's voice sliced through Lisa's reverie. "Be sure to bring light-weight jackets. It might get chilly. By the way, I just know you'll love the band. Cloudburst, they're called--a local group. Danny used to sit behind me in the fifth grade. Even then he liked to beat out a bongo rap on his desk."

  She heaved a sigh before babbling on. "Anyway, here I am again in good old Galveston after such a long time. I must confess, though, I feel more like a tourist anymore than a native Texan. At least Claudette and I won't have to go back to the circus grounds tonight. We're staying at my daddy's."

  "Tell me about the first circus you traveled with," Michael said to Rita with obvious interest. "Was it as good as Jessell and Stern?"

  Lisa pushed back her annoyance and forced herself to smile at him. Was he simply being polite to Rita? Or was he flirting again?

  Unbidden, jealousy gnawed at her. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed so readily to go to the dance. Obviously Estelle believed Michael was a one-woman man, but how well did she really know her brother?

  "Oh, yes, the first circus. Holman and Company, they called themselves." Rita smiled coyly at him through half-lidded eyes. "I'm not sure why I wasted so much time with that little dog and pony show. But at least I got to try my hand at flying. And I'd love nothing more than to have the chance to get back into it again."

  "And that time may be coming sooner than we think," Claudette blurted out. Averting her gaze, she scrunched down in her seat.

  "Oh, yeah?" Michael's interest was full blown. "What do you mean, Sis?"

  Her eyes darted between Michael and Lisa. "I...I mean...someday, who knows? One of us may decide to call it quits. Or expand our act." She shrugged. "Use four flyers instead of three."

  One of us may call it quits.

  Lisa went rigid as the anger churned up inside of her. So Claudette still believed she was trying to snatch Michael away. Without a doubt, that hurriedly added comment about expanding their act was merely a cover.

  Lisa bit down on her lower lip, her thoughts spinning as she averted her gaze. Yes, Claudette's hidden message had come through loud and clear. What was she scheming to do next?

  Chapter Seven

  As Lisa and Michael danced cheek-to-cheek to a country golden oldie, the music wove about them like lush, velvet ribbons.

  The lead singer's rich tenor voice melded with electric guitar, honky-tonk piano, harmonica, and drums. The notes swelled, full-throated, then ebbed again as the melody played on.

  Lisa sighed, savoring Michael's nearness, his faint scent of cocoa butter sunscreen mingled with fresh air and sunshine.

  That afternoon they'd strolled nearly two miles down the beach, then spread out a blanket to picnic and bask in the sun. Lisa could almost still feel the blazing sand beneath her feet, hear the sharp cries of the sea birds swooping above them.

  Where had the time gone? Being alone with Michael had been like a fleeting glimpse of paradise, ill-advised and foolish though it be.

  She leaned closer into him, linking both arms around his neck. "Galveston, oh Galveston..." Yes, Galveston. What beautiful memories. For as long as she lived, she'd never forget her day here with Michael.

  Tomorrow she'd return to reality. Tomorrow she'd deal with the difficulties of her new life. But for now, she admittedly needed an escape.

  She looked up at him. Their gazes caught and held. "Like to dance, Lisa?" he asked huskily, brushing her ear with his lips.

  "Mmm--love to."

  "Good, because I intend to dance your socks off." He chuckled. "Right till the stroke of midnight." He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled down at her. His deep blue eyes sparkled, teasing and caressing her all at the same time.

  "Oh, yes!" She returned his banter. "The proverbial Cinderella story. Prince Charming whisks Cinderella away from the wicked stepmother--er, Dr. Woodstock in this case--and they live happily--."
She bit off her words. No, Lisa! There's no such thing as fairy tales and happy endings. At least not for you.

  She thought she detected a shadow flicker across his handsome face, but it was soon blotted out by his returning smile.

  Ah, Lisa,

  he thought. My sweet, disillusioned one. So small and pretty. If there were only some way I could get my hands on that jerk who broke your heart. Every time I think about him, I have all I can do to keep from wanting to wring his arrogant neck.

  "I wonder what happened to Claudette and Rita?" he asked, looking around. The song ended. "They asked us to meet them here before the dance started." He glanced at his watch and pursed his lips. "That was nearly an hour ago."

  "Probably got sidelined by Danny, the drummer." She scanned the sidewalks that were teeming with people. There were no signs of Claudette and Rita anywhere. "I bet he introduced them to a couple of his buddies who'd tagged along," she added. And if that was the case, then hats off to Danny. Hopefully it would distract Rita from going after Michael.

  "Well, help me keep an eye out for them, will you? Even though Claudette's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, I'm still her brother. Her only brother. Dad would expect that of me."

  "Of course. Think we should walk down the street and start looking?" she asked. As much as she wanted to put off meeting the two women again, she couldn't help sharing Michael's concern.

  "Yeah, maybe for just a block or two." A small frown puckered his brow. "But it's still early. No point getting worried yet."

  As they threaded their way through the crowd, they passed by an antique store, an art gallery, a small antique and gift shop. The rosy glow of the setting sun reflected off the store windows. The cement beneath their feet still radiated with warmth.

  "What do you suppose happened to them?" he asked tightly, pushing his sunglasses onto his forehead. "Claudette might have her faults, but big-time tardiness isn't one of them."

  "You and my brother Ralph," she said, hoping to dilute his concern. She disliked seeing him worry unnecessarily, yet at the same time his sense of responsibility to family warmed her. Without a doubt, if this had been Estelle instead, he would have been equally solicitous.

  They slowed their pace, then stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the street light to change. A dozen or so teenagers dressed in oversized T-shirts and neon-colored shorts laughed and shouted as they paused beside them.

  "I thought you and Ralph were separated most of the time," Michael said. The light flashed WALK and they stepped off the curb.

  "We were. Ralph and I were always apart. But that didn't stop him from keeping tabs on me, especially after we became teenagers. All those years we lived in different foster homes, even the times we were hundreds of miles apart, he must've phoned at least three times a week."

  "I suppose your traveling with Jessell and Stern is driving your brother crazy," Michael commented, smiling wryly.

  "Yes...and no. He's got his own family now, a terrific wife and two beautiful children, a boy and a girl." She blinked hard, forcing back her envy. She and Charles had talked about having children too...but now her dreams of a family would never be. The band launched into another tune, this time a rendition of an old Willie Nelson classic, "On the Road Again."

  "Aha!" Michael exclaimed with a chuckle, his mood now lighter. "They're playing our song, Lisa!" He draped an arm across her shoulder and winked.

  "I don't think Willie had the circus in mind when he recorded that piece," she teased him back.

  "Nope, I suppose not." He shrugged. "But what the heck? Country western bands, carnivals and circuses...I suppose all traveling entertainers have something in common. Want to dance again?"

  "Actually, I'd rather get something to drink. All this dancing's made me thirsty."

  "Good idea!" He nodded toward a string of fast-food concessions. "Let's head over to the beer garden and see what's on tap."

  Minutes later, they purchased two bottles of micro brewed beer and lingered awhile, listening to the music that blared from three blocks away through the sound system. Rita had been right, Lisa decided. Cloudburst was probably one of the best bands in the entire state of Texas.

  Off in the distance sprays of multicolored fireworks glittered against a cobalt blue sky. Everywhere about them, people laughed and shouted. The carnival ambience was captivating.

  Refreshed, they turned back to the street dance. Michael caught Lisa's arm and asked, "How about it? Ready to dance some more?"

  "Oh yes!"

  He took her hand in his, leading her to the sectioned off area next to the band.

  As they swayed to the music, he hummed softly in her ear. She felt his breath fanning her cheek, the warmth of his strong, muscular body so dangerously close.

  Her pulse rate quickened.

  "Hey, Michael!" A familiar voice shattered the mood. They stopped dancing and turned around.

  Claudette gave a quick wave as she elbowed her way closer. Rita trailed from behind.

  "Where've you've been?" Michael called. "Do you realize, Claudette, you're almost an hour and three-quarter's late?"

  "What's the big deal, Michael?"

  "What's the big deal?" he echoed, raising a brow. The rhythm of the band faded into his clipped response. "It's not like you, that's the big deal. I mean, terrible things happen to people every day. And if you remember correctly, you're usually the one getting after me about being late."

  She tossed him an offended look. "Don't forget, it was you who pointed out in the first place that Rita and I didn't need an escort service."

  "All right." Michael held up both hands in a gesture of reconciliation. "So I did. Sorry. I...I didn't mean to overrea--"

  Rita interrupted him. "Michael, I'm absolutely dying to dance, and it's obvious Danny can't oblige me now. Come on. Just one time."

  "Yeah, Michael!" Claudette quickly agreed. "Since this is Rita's favorite band, it'd be a crying shame if she didn't get to dance."

  An artery in Michael's neck throbbed. "Sorry, ladies. I'm going to dance with Lisa."

  "Michael, how rude," Claudette admonished. "The least you can do is try to make Rita feel welcome. So far, you've barely given her the time of day!"

  Lisa's gaze flicked from Claudette to Michael. Without warning an idea popped into her mind. She’d better act now--this was the chance she'd been waiting for! What a perfect opportunity to confront Claudette while Michael was safely out of earshot.

  "It's all right, Michael," Lisa said. "Go ahead. I'll sit...er, stand...this one out."

  "Sure you don't mind?" he asked.

  "Uh...no."

  Lisa's heart turned over as she watched Michael take Rita by the arm, lead her through the crowd and onto the street.

  Please, Michael. Make it only one dance,

  she silently pleaded. She forced her attention back to Claudette. The invisible shield of tension separating them was growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

  She inhaled a steadying breath. "Thanks for your elegant hand-me-downs," she said, angling Claudette a long, hard look. "You're a fine one to talk about giving people a proper welcome."

  "Oh, come on, Lisa. Lighten up. Where's your sense of humor?"

  "You call that funny?"

  "Why not? Besides, you can consider that your initiation into Jessell and Stern--one I might add, you failed miserably. Just like you've failed miserably everything else you attempted so far."

  "You're wrong, Claudette. I've failed no one. Especially you."

  Smiling sardonically, Claudette narrowed her eyes. "Once a townie, always a townie. Right, Lisa?"

  Lisa choked back her anger. Claudette's insinuation stung like a slap across the face. "Listen, Claudette. I don't care what you call me, but there's something I want you to know. You can relax, as far as Michael's concerned. I'm not some love-starved groupie. I don't intend to lure him away from--."

  She broke off abruptly. Something in her peripheral vision had caught her attention. She turned
and realized it was the flutter of a white tissue--Rita's white tissue. Though she and Michael were still dancing, Rita was dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Michael appeared to be trying to comfort her.

  Rita sent Michael a tremulous smile, then nodded slowly in response to whatever he'd just said. He smiled back and squeezed her arm.

  Lisa struggled against a new stab of jealousy. What was happening? Could Rita be making up a sob story to win Michael's affection?

  Quickly pushing her suspicions aside, she turned her attention back to Claudette. "As I was saying..." She hesitated, looking around. "Claudette? Did you hear me? Are you still there?"

  Michael's twin was nowhere in sight.

  *****

  Michael swerved off the highway and parked the truck alongside a deserted stretch of beach. "Let's walk some more," he murmured, staring off into the darkness. "I'm not ready to go home yet."

  "All right."

  The entire way there, he'd been unusually quiet. Back at the Strand, only seconds after he and Rita had finished dancing, Claudette had cornered them. For several minutes--an eternity to Lisa--they'd stood well away from the crowds talking among themselves, their expressions serious.

  "Is something wrong, Michael?" she asked quietly as they strode down the beach. His hand was warm, wrapped around hers. "I mean, why was Rita crying back at the dance? And why the long talk with Claudette and Rita afterwards?"

  "It's nothing," he replied, tight-lipped. He stopped, faced her squarely, then added, "Rita's just a little homesick, that's all."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  Lisa had to wonder about that. After all, if Rita had traveled with a previous circus, then she should certainly be accustomed to being away from home. No, there must be more. But whatever it was, Michael obviously wasn't ready to confide in her.

  "Look, Lisa." He brushed his thumb over her palm. In the distance, a fog horn blared. "I...I don't want anything to spoil the rest of our day together. Let's not talk about it anymore."

  She hesitated, her voice reluctant. "Well...all right, I guess." Maybe it was wrong, expecting him to share everything, she reasoned. After all, she'd only known Michael for a short time, just barely a month.