“I’m sure you do,” Alisa said quietly. “You remind me of myself at your age, and I always wanted to control my own life. I promise I have no intention of whisking you to an orphanage or stealing those beautiful horses from you.” She met her eyes. “And I didn’t know quite why I came here two weeks ago, but I believe I’m beginning to get a clue every time I come back and watch you. I thought it was about you, but I’m wondering if it’s really about both of us.” She smiled. “Because I’ve been just as nosy and interfering as you thought and found out the owners of this circus don’t treat you as well as they could. But it never seems to bother you as long as those horses are kept happy and healthy.” She shook her head. “Yet for some reason, I found that it did bother me. Because those wonderful horses could be in even better shape, and so could you…if you’d let me help you.” She leaned forward, her eyes fixed intently on the girl’s face. So much distrust, so much wariness. It was like looking in a mirror of the child she had been herself. “Suppose I promise to buy those four horses for you and give you a comfortable place to stay and work that would allow you to do whatever you wish to do?”

She frowned. “Why would you want to do that? No one does something for nothing.”

“You’re right, so maybe I do want something from you. You’ll have plenty of time to find out and so will I. Because from now on I’m going to be here for every performance that I can manage to get away from my job.” She made a face. “That won’t be as many as I’d like because I’m certainly not rich, and I might have to work even harder to save up enough money to buy those horses for you. But I’ll be here as much as I can, and maybe after every show we’ll talk and learn what’s possible for the two of us, Catriona.”

She shrugged. “I think you’re a crazy woman.” She jumped back on the horse and turned him toward the tent exit. “Just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you. If you’re lying to me about that orphanage, I’ll know it. I’ll go away and you’ll never find me.” She got to her feet and balanced on the horse’s back with effortless grace. In that blue tutu she looked like the ballerina on a jewelry box. “And I don’t need help from you or anyone else.”

“Certainly not on the back of a horse,” Alisa said ruefully, touching her forehead in mock obeisance. “Truly the Great Catriona.”