Read Online Nan Ryan by Written in the Stars - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Written in the Stars
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* * *
After the parade, members of the troupe seized the opportunity to rest, to take a long breather before the evening’s eight o’clock opening performance.
It was a very still, very hot August afternoon. The streets of Denver were now nearly deserted. Workers and shoppers and those who had viewed the parade had fled to the haven of their homes to relax, cool off, and have their evening meals before returning to town for the opening presentation of Colonel Buck Buchannan’s traveling extravaganza.
Diane was not resting. She was restless. She strolled alone down the quiet city streets, stopping to look in store windows, lingering before a fancy restaurant to read the menu posted outside the door. She made a sour face. None of the offered fare sounded good. She wasn’t hungry, though it was well into the supper hour. She blamed the dry Denver heat for her lack of appetite.
She wandered aimlessly on down the street to where the sidewalk ended. Across an empty city block stood the fairgrounds. Diane stopped and smiled guiltily, realizing she was very near the Redman’s cage, realizing as well that she’d been heading there all along. She’d simply taken a detour, choosing the long way around so that no one in the troupe would see her.
Diane crossed the street and plunged determinedly through the empty, weed-choked lot, pushing dead sunflowers out of her path, yanking irritably when her lacy petticoat snagged on a thorny bush. She reached the far side of the block and was about to step down into the dusty street when she heard a whimper, some laughing and scuffling.
She paused, turned her head, listened, and heard it again. She went immediately to investigate, a frown of puzzlement on her face. She came upon a couple of young ruffians behind an old boarded-up warehouse. The large teenaged boys were crouched on the ground, tormenting a tiny, terrified white kitten.
Diane was horrified. She shouted at them to stop and raced to the kitten’s rescue. Her eyes flashed purple fire and she angrily grabbed one of the boys by his shirt collar. She snatched him up with such force it startled him. He came stumbling to his feet, covering his face with his arms, cowering before her.
“Get out of here, both of you!” she snapped commandingly. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, abusing a poor dumb animal!”
She released the boy’s collar with a forceful shove, and both bullies turned tail and ran as fast as their legs would carry them. Her jaw hard, chin squared, Diane shouted after them, “How would you like to be treated like you were treating this defenseless creature? You’re a disgrace to mankind!”
Her eyes lowered and the severe expression on her face softened immediately. She went down on her knees, her long skirts swirling out around her. She very slowly, very gently picked up the trembling kitten and clutched it to her breast. She cradled the scared, meowing little creature close, stroked the soft white fur of its quivering back, and murmured soothingly, laying her cheek to its head.
When the kitten had calmed and quit shaking and mewling, Diane rose to her feet. Holding the tiny ball of white fur against the side of her bare throat, she went in search of its mother. She walked briskly about in back of the warehouse, calling loudly..
In seconds a relieved old mama cat came flying through the tall weeds of the vacant lot. Diane went back down on her knees and quickly gave the kitten over. Then stayed as she was for a long moment more, kneeling on the ground, watching the heartwarming, demonstrative reunion.
Someone else was also watching.
Someone had silently witnessed Diane Buchannan’s sudden flash of anger toward the pair of heartless young bullies. Had mutely observed her surprisingly admirable display of bravery when she straightaway confronted the rough-looking pair with no thought to her own safety. Had been an entranced bystander when she comforted the frightened
* * *
After the parade, members of the troupe seized the opportunity to rest, to take a long breather before the evening’s eight o’clock opening performance.
It was a very still, very hot August afternoon. The streets of Denver were now nearly deserted. Workers and shoppers and those who had viewed the parade had fled to the haven of their homes to relax, cool off, and have their evening meals before returning to town for the opening presentation of Colonel Buck Buchannan’s traveling extravaganza.
Diane was not resting. She was restless. She strolled alone down the quiet city streets, stopping to look in store windows, lingering before a fancy restaurant to read the menu posted outside the door. She made a sour face. None of the offered fare sounded good. She wasn’t hungry, though it was well into the supper hour. She blamed the dry Denver heat for her lack of appetite.
She wandered aimlessly on down the street to where the sidewalk ended. Across an empty city block stood the fairgrounds. Diane stopped and smiled guiltily, realizing she was very near the Redman’s cage, realizing as well that she’d been heading there all along. She’d simply taken a detour, choosing the long way around so that no one in the troupe would see her.
Diane crossed the street and plunged determinedly through the empty, weed-choked lot, pushing dead sunflowers out of her path, yanking irritably when her lacy petticoat snagged on a thorny bush. She reached the far side of the block and was about to step down into the dusty street when she heard a whimper, some laughing and scuffling.
She paused, turned her head, listened, and heard it again. She went immediately to investigate, a frown of puzzlement on her face. She came upon a couple of young ruffians behind an old boarded-up warehouse. The large teenaged boys were crouched on the ground, tormenting a tiny, terrified white kitten.
Diane was horrified. She shouted at them to stop and raced to the kitten’s rescue. Her eyes flashed purple fire and she angrily grabbed one of the boys by his shirt collar. She snatched him up with such force it startled him. He came stumbling to his feet, covering his face with his arms, cowering before her.
“Get out of here, both of you!” she snapped commandingly. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, abusing a poor dumb animal!”
She released the boy’s collar with a forceful shove, and both bullies turned tail and ran as fast as their legs would carry them. Her jaw hard, chin squared, Diane shouted after them, “How would you like to be treated like you were treating this defenseless creature? You’re a disgrace to mankind!”
Her eyes lowered and the severe expression on her face softened immediately. She went down on her knees, her long skirts swirling out around her. She very slowly, very gently picked up the trembling kitten and clutched it to her breast. She cradled the scared, meowing little creature close, stroked the soft white fur of its quivering back, and murmured soothingly, laying her cheek to its head.
When the kitten had calmed and quit shaking and mewling, Diane rose to her feet. Holding the tiny ball of white fur against the side of her bare throat, she went in search of its mother. She walked briskly about in back of the warehouse, calling loudly..
In seconds a relieved old mama cat came flying through the tall weeds of the vacant lot. Diane went back down on her knees and quickly gave the kitten over. Then stayed as she was for a long moment more, kneeling on the ground, watching the heartwarming, demonstrative reunion.
Someone else was also watching.
Someone had silently witnessed Diane Buchannan’s sudden flash of anger toward the pair of heartless young bullies. Had mutely observed her surprisingly admirable display of bravery when she straightaway confronted the rough-looking pair with no thought to her own safety. Had been an entranced bystander when she comforted the frightened
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