Coming Up Roses Read Online Free PDF Page A

H.L.
thought there must be sparkly things glued or sewn onto Rose’s
feathers to make them glitter and shine in the floodlights. The
same was true of the beadwork on the bodice of her Indian-style
costume.
    Her bloomers were heavily embroidered and
sported no beadwork, probably because she didn’t want to scratch
the horse during her acrobatic routines. They only reached her
knees, too, so the audience was treated to quite a display of her
shapely calves. The rest of her wasn’t bad in the curve department,
either, H.L. noticed with interest when the horse finally slowed to
a trot and Rose slid down to ride astride. She didn’t stay there
for long, but jumped up onto the horse’s back again and stood in
her bare feet as she balanced with seeming ease, her arms
outstretched.
    He squinted narrowly and decided she wasn’t
wearing a corset. Well, how could she, and survive the rigors of
that act? The poor creature would faint dead away during her first
trick if she had to strap all that whale boning around her midriff.
H.L. approved. He liked the natural female shape. A lot. He
explored it whenever he got the chance, in fact. He wouldn’t mind
exploring Rose’s curves by hand, actually.
    Shaking himself hard, he wondered where
that thought had come from. He might take a certain pride in a
local repute among his peers at the Globe as something of a ladies’ man, but he was
certainly no defiler of virgins. H.L. would stake his virile
reputation on the certainty that Rose Gilhooley was a
virgin.
    Innocent. That was a better word for her than
cute, but it still didn’t capture the essence of Rose.
    Beside him, Sam squeaked. “Jesus H. Christ,
H.L.! Did you see that?”
    H.L. had seen it. He was, however, unable to
speak since his heart had lodged in his throat again. He wished it
would stop doing that.
    “ How does she do those things?” Sam gasped. Then he joined in
the roar of cheers.
    So did H.L. He and Sam jumped to their feet,
applauding wildly and whooping until H.L.’s throat felt raw.
    From standing on the horse’s back with her
arms lifted in a pose that brought to H.L.’s mind an image of
perfect freedom, Rose had suddenly done a spring that shocked the
audience into a gasp of alarm and landed on her hands. On the
horse’s back. And then she’d done the splits. In mid-air. On the
horse’s back. While standing on her hands. That’s when the audience
had roared and risen, astounded by Rose’s phenomenal skill.
    “ By God,” H.L. whispered to himself.
“She’s rock-solid. Rock-solid, by God.” He’d never seen anyone ride
a horse with as much assurance as Rose Gilhooley.
    He found it difficult to reconcile the small,
insecure-seeming child-woman he’d met that afternoon with this
fabulous performer. “By God, I’m going to do it,” he vowed, again
to himself.
    Sam, who’d been caught up in the thrill of
the moment, heard H.L. that time. Still standing and clapping, he
leaned toward H.L. “What? You’re going to do what? I didn’t hear
you.”
    “ Nothing.” H.L. sent an ear-splitting
whistle through his teeth, as he’d done when he was a boy trying
demonstrate a level of approval for which words weren’t enough. He
couldn’t recall the last time he’d been moved to express himself
thus. But Rose Gilhooley was a goddamned inspiration.
    By God, he was going to do more than write
one puny article about her. He was going to make her the
centerpiece of a whole series of articles. He was going to write
about her the way nobody had ever written about anyone before in
the history of the world.
    He was going to get to the bottom of her
talent and tell the world about it. He was going to make her more
famous than Buffalo Bill Cody himself.
    Rose’s gift was more than mere talent.
H.L. knew it. Her entire personality, spirit, and essence went into
her act. Nobody— nobody —could
perform the way she did unless she threw her whole heart and soul
into it.
    H.L. had never understood that kind