Touch of Magic
by Myla Jackson

Chapter One

Catarina Novak settled the heavy purple cloak around her bare shoulders, pulling the tie-string away from choking her throat. Lightning danced in a circle, held tight by her assistant Nora Jane Sims. The cloak spooked the solid white Arabian stallion she'd inherited from her mentor, The Amazing Mancini.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nora Jane fought to hold the stallion steady.

Leaving their bags at the hotel in Abilene, they'd ridden out early that morning before the sun rose to prepare for her introduction to potential theater patrons. Now, half a mile east of the city, they prepared for the grand entrance to the Golden Garter Theater and Saloon. This would be Catarina's first magic show without Marco Mancini. The old magician had insisted she was ready, telling her she was as good, or better, than he had ever been.

That had been a few minutes before he'd passed on due to a nasty bout of pneumonia.

Cat wrinkled her nose at the smell of the stockyards, reminding herself that horrendous stench was the smell of money. The town was teeming with cowboys, merchants and cattle. There should be a good crowd at the theater tonight. Especially if she made a spectacular display and enticed more people to come to the show.

"I have to do this. We need the money to pay our hotel bill and get us to Chicago." Catarina settled the cape over the hindquarters of the stallion and reached out. "Let me have the reins."

"I don't know about this. I can get a job washing clothes or something. You don't have to do this, you know. Lightning only likes to be ridden by men."
"Nonsense, as a laundress, you'd never save enough money to get to Chicago and your sister. We have to do this. Besides, Lightning won't know the difference between me and Mr. Mancini, other than the side saddle."

Nora Jane shook her bright copper curls. "You don't weigh no more than a tumbleweed Ms. Catarina, and that horse knows it. Why he could throw you so fast you won't know what hit you until you wake up dead."

"I'm an excellent rider. Don't worry about me, nothing bad will happen." She hoped her streak of bad luck and little accidents didn't jinx this show. She and Nora Jean needed the money to stay alive and move farther east. "Now, I have to get or I'll miss the afternoon crowd in town."

"I don't know." She handed Cat the reins but held the strap by the horse's mouth. "Lightning ain't likin' that cape, none."

"He'll have to get used to it." She glanced down at the black satin dress sprinkled with painted silver stars and smiled at the gift Signor Mancini had bestowed on her before their last show together. Her vision blurred. If not for Mancini, she didn't know what might have become of her. He'd taken her in as a young widow when her husband died of pneumonia on their way out west.

She didn't have time to ruminate on the past. Her future awaited. "Let go, Nora Jane. I have a job to do."

The redhead stepped back. "Break a leg, Ms. Catarina."

"Thanks." She took a deep breath, turned her mount in the direction of the Golden Garter and sank her heels into the horse's flanks.

Trace Adams trudged across the busy Main Street of Abilene, Kansas, bone-weary and covered in dust and grime from months on a cattle drive from Amarillo, Texas.

"Can't wait for that drink you promised me a hundred miles ago." Jay Tyler clapped his hat against his thigh, sending up a puff of dust.

"And you'll get that drink. You and the boys worked hard."

The excitement of reaching Kansas was more over the prospect of a bath and a new set of boots and clothing, than from actually delivering the animals. Sure, he was glad to get his herd to the stockyards and he'd be even happier to get paid for the six hundred head of longhorns he'd driven over hundreds of miles with minimal losses. But what he wanted most was a clean body, a soft bed and twenty-four hours of uninterrupted sleep.

"Well, since we're finally in Abilene, have you made up your mind?" Jay asked.

Trace took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Nope."

"You can't keep Martha hanging." Jay pounded him hard on the back. "You need to shit or get out of the outhouse."

"I know. It's just that we've known each other all our lives. I've never thought of marrying anyone else, but still."

"What you need is to sow a few wild oats. Ride a few other fillies before you settle on the mare of your dreams."

"I'm not buying a horse." No, Martha wasn't a horse, but Trace felt like a horse trader being stuck with one horse to choose from and he was chafing at the prospect. Not that Martha wasn't a good horse-woman. She was one of the best, a fine solid woman with everything a man wanted and needed for a ranch wife. When he'd left, she'd insisted on a parting kiss-their first. A chaste kiss for the proper woman.
For he two months he'd been on the trail, he'd thought about that kiss and how he'd felt nothing-no spark, no connection, no stirring in his loins.

Nothing.

Perhaps Jay was right. He needed a comparison, a chance to experience other women before he settled with Martha. The catch being, he was more or less promised to Martha. Trying out other women would be like cheating on his future wife. He respected Martha too much to cheat on her. No, he had to make this decision without perusing the corral of other fillies.

When he and Jay were only halfway across the thoroughfare, a loud whooping sound caught Trace's attention. Men gathered on the broad boardwalks, every one of them facing to the east. A shout went up as a cloud of dust blew their way.

"What the hell?" Jay turned to face Main Street.
Too tired to really care, Trace made it across to the front entrance of the Golden Garter Saloon, bent on ordering a whiskey before tackling the job of cleaning up.

As he set his foot on the boardwalk, he turned to Jay.

"Whoa, will ya look at her." Jay's mouth hung open, his eyes wide.

Emerging from the cloud of dust was a solid white horse racing through the street at breakneck speed. Perched in a sidesaddle on its back was a beautiful woman with a long, flowing black mane of hair, as beautiful and wild as the horse she rode. She wore a star-sprinkled black dress and a purple cape that appeared to be choking the living daylights out of her. By the way she leaned back on the reins, she was no where near in control of the rampaging horse and if she didn't slow the horse soon, someone was likely to get hurt.

"Damn, that horse is a run away," Jay said.

Without thinking, Trace leaped off the boardwalk onto the hard-packed dirt of Main Street and directly into the path of the charging horse. When he didn't move out of the horse's way, the horse planted his hooves in the dirt, skidding to a halt. Then he reared, his rider hanging on to the saddle horn, her eyes wide, her long black hair swirling around her face.
Trace reached out, captured the reins and brought the horse back to the ground.

When all four of the horse's hooves were firmly planted on the ground, the woman grasped the string around her throat and pulled it away from her skin, a thin red line marring her pearly white throat. She gulped air for several seconds and then turned a brilliant smile toward the men lining the boardwalk. With a wide and graceful sweep of her arm, she shouted, "Gentleman, let me introduce myself." In a voice only Trace could hear, she said, "Step away from the horse."

"Are you crazy?" He held the horse's nose down. The animal's ears still lay back against his head and the whites of his eyes shown. If he let go, the woman would be flat on her butt in the dirt. But then maybe she needed that lesson.

"I need the room for my entrance," she hissed for his ears only. For the crowd, she stood in the single stirrup and waved her hand again. "I am the Amazing Catarina, magician and mesmerist extraordinaire!" After she said the words, she gathered her skirts and jumped from the horse's back. When she hit the ground, she flung her heavy purple cape in a sweeping arc.

The cape flapped in Trace's face. The Arabian stallion reared again, lifting Trace from the ground. Holding on with all his might, he fought to calm the horse.

The woman continued. "Join me at the Golden Garter tonight at eight for daring feats of magical wonder and delight."

When she waved her cape again, the horse leaped forward, taking Trace with him, dragging him down the length of Main Street. All he could hear over the thundering hooves, so dangerously close to his own feet, was the woman saying, "See? I can make a cowboy disappear with just the wave of my cape."

Laughter followed him to the end of the street and out onto the prairie.