Alina & The Greatest Show on Earth, Epilogue

Thistle Creek, Colorado

April 1885

The chickens were louder than the milk cow that morning, which was saying something.

I stood barefoot in the doorway of our cottage, my shawl drawn tight over my shoulders as the soft pink of dawn spilled across the mountains. The hens clucked indignantly at each other, feathers puffed and proud, and from somewhere behind the barn, I could already hear my uncle grumbling about the piglets knocking over the grain bucket.

I smiled, then tucked a curl behind my ear as a warm hand slid around my waist.

“I told you the rooster was trouble,” Nathaniel murmured sleepily, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I seem to remember you indulging me when I insisted we needed fresh eggs every morning,” I said, teasing him and leaning back into his chest.

“And here you are, enjoying them every morning because of my weakness.” His eyes twinkled.

I laughed, my fingers finding his where they rested against my waist. “You’re awfully smug for a man still in his nightshirt.”

“Mm,” he agreed, then brushed another kiss behind my ear. “And I’m awfully in love with you, Mrs. Rigby.”

I turned and looked up at him, that familiar flutter still blooming in my chest all these months later. “And I with you, Doctor.”

From inside, the soft coo of my baby stirred the air. My daughter—our daughter—Isadora (after Nathaniel’s mother) Alina Rigby, was beginning to wake. A moment later,  I  heard my grandmother’s slippers shuffling across the wood floor, followed by a sweet murmur in Romanian.

“She’s already spoiling her,” I whispered.

“She’s a grandmother. It’s in the contract.”

We went inside together. The cottage smelled of cinnamon bread, and my aunt was kneading dough at the kitchen table, humming, while my grandmother cradled Isadora, wrapped in a blanket embroidered with protective sigils and stars.

“She’s ready for her papa,” my grandmother said, handing her to Nathaniel.

He took her carefully, as he always did, with reverence and awe. He looked completely smitten, as if he couldn’t believe this life was real. I couldn’t believe it either.

“She looks so much like you,” he said, gazing down lovingly at her. It was true. She didn’t look anything like her father, for which I was grateful. After the season, Matthias and his father had left Mr. Barnum’s for a rival circus, and no one was upset to see them leave.

Nathaniel and I had married in the circus ring that winter under garlands of ribbon and stars, with candles lining the edge of the sawdust floor. We’d exchanged our vows as the night fell, and Nathaniel had looked at me like he'd never been happier.

Marte and Edie had cried while Franz played a violin solo. My uncle had given me away with pride in his eyes, and Mr. Barnum had gifted us with an overnight stay in the local hotel with room service, which had caused quite the ruckus amongst the troupe. Mr. Barnum usually wasn’t that generous to his workers.

Our cottage in Thistle Creek had been a wedding gift from one of Nathaniel’s old medical colleagues. Rent was reasonable, and we had great neighbors; Edie, Franz, and Marte had rented rooms in a boarding house a few streets away.

During the circus season, we traveled with the troupe. In a few months, Nathaniel said he would probably clear me to go back to the high wire. Mr. Barnum had already given his approval.

But for the winter and early spring months, we lived here in the little white cottage with its creaky porch and ivy-covered gate. My dream and wish had come true. Here, our daughter would grow. Here, we would build the life we both dreamed about.

Nathaniel kissed Isadora’s nose and said, “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you dream sweet dreams again?”

I leaned in and kissed my daughter’s dark curls.

I didn’t need a fortune to know how blessed I was. I looked up at my husband as my uncle came in, grumbling about getting ready to meet the circus in a week, and Nathaniel winked.

“It will be good to get back with the troupe.”

I nodded, taking Isadora onto the porch to watch the sun make its way up into the sky.

The End

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