House of Mirrors Read Online Free PDF Page B

sometimes ticket seller at the front gate. “Oh? He dislikes you, sir?”
    “Perhaps not me in particular. He has a problem with authority and would hate anyone in my position. Or perhaps I’m wrong and he loathes me.” He sounded entirely unconcerned. “As long as he does his job, I’m not going to poke back at him.”
    “And he does his job?”
    “Very well indeed, when he hasn’t been drinking that foul liquor he makes and sells as a cure-all.”
    Jonah shifted his gaze to the back of the wagon ahead of them. Cheaters and other sinners. He didn’t want to learn that his father’s reasons for forbidding his flock to attend the carnival were justified.
    “You don’t approve of snake oil liniment?”
    “It’s not my place to approve or disapprove.” He hoped he’d managed to quash the condemnation he felt.
    “Ha, you’re not a hard man to read, Talbot. Even with that shiner, your face is an open one. You should learn to hide your emotions.”
    Jonah risked looking at him. “I do mean it, sir. That it’s not my place. I am grateful to be here and would never pass judgment on you.” He was the very last person to throw stones. The very last man on earth.
    “Kind of you, I’m sure.”
    Jonah felt himself grow hot at the ironic tone. What could he say to reassure Mr. Grimstone?
    But apparently the man wasn’t truly insulted. “I’d wondered if that naive country-bred look of yours was honest, and now I know. Lordy, I’ll have to put you on display in the show. Step right up, ladies and gents, and see the last innocent adult on earth.”
    Jonah held the reins in one hand and rubbed the side of his head, embarrassed. He didn’t answer. Why bother? If this sharp-eyed man of the world could read his face, he’d keep his mouth shut. His boss’s teasing manner befuddled him. He wasn’t certain how to respond to his strange manner without giving offense.
    Grimstone gave a soft laugh. “I can see why patent medicines might make a man starch up. But you keep in mind every carnival has a few thousand gaffes—extra tricks to fool the audience and make the whole thing better. Our public expects trickery.”
    Jonah remembered a word he’d overheard. “They’re rubes.”
    His companion smiled. “Or marks, yes.”
    “Hicks.”
    “Hayseeds.” Grimstone seemed to be fighting a smile. “Gawks, rustics.”
    Jonah grinned though it hurt his mouth. “You win, sir.”
    The smile won. “And what did I say about you calling me ‘sir’?”
    “That you don’t like it. S—ir.” Jonah drawled the title, making it something other than a term of respect. What on earth was he doing? It felt dangerous and enormously fun too.
    Suddenly Grimstone shook his head, his smile gone. Was he really upset? “Get the horses moving faster, Talbot. They’re well trained once we get underway, but keep in mind we stay in a tight line.” And Jonah realized he’d been staring at his traveling companion instead of the wagon ahead of them.
    He fell silent and concentrated on the road for a little while, but after a few miles tried to make some conversation. “I wonder if you could tell me a few things.” He swallowed the “sir” that almost made its automatic way to his mouth. “Like the word ‘staub.’ What’s that?”
    Grimstone didn’t look up from an account ledger he’d taken out of the brass box apparently. “Staubs are wooden stakes for the tents.” He sounded short. Not rude, but uninterested in conversation. He glared down at the book, a stub of a pencil poised in his hand.
    Another couple of miles passed, and Jonah glanced over at him. He didn’t know the man, but he would swear that something about the rigid set of his new boss’s shoulders showed he was uncomfortable. And with each passing moment, the discomfort apparently grew. Grimstone shoveled the papers away into the box and stared off ahead of them. When he met Jonah’s eyes for a moment, his returning gaze was bleak. Condemning.
    Oh Lord,