by Sarah Price
A frown wrinkled her forehead. “But of course!”
He smiled. Something twinkled in his eyes, causing her heart to flutter. With a chilling shock, she realized for the first time how dear he truly was to her. “Then, S'hara, I suggest you come with me so we can leave.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb, unaware of the turmoil Sahara's discovery was causing her. Certainly, had he known, he wouldn't have walked so calmly out of the saloon. Nor would he have ignored her for the entire ride back to the gypsy encampment.
She stared at the boy. He was brazen, never breaking her gaze. As always, there was a smirk on his face. She had caught him throwing rocks at Sahara. There was blood running down her leg where the sharp edge had cut her flesh. The little toddler cried, sitting in the dirt, afraid to move away from the boy she knew as brother.
“I saw what you did,” Amaya said.
He shrugged his shoulders. “So?”
“I will tell your father.”
Again, the boy shrugged his shoulders. “He won’t do anything, romni. Not even for you.”
Amaya reached down for Sahara and clutched her tightly to her chest. “Why do you hate her so?” When he didn’t answer, she carried the little girl away. She tried to soothe her tears as she took her down to the stream to wash the cut on her leg before it became infected.
Emilian watched them, a smile on his face. And he said softly, “Who said it was her that I hate?”
Chapter Eighteen
Sahara felt Emilian's eyes boring into her back. He was staring at her. Again. Chewing thoughtfully on her lip, Sahara ignored him as she had every day for the past month. In the beginning, she had thought her imagination was running wild. But each day brought more candid remarks from Emilian. Whenever Nicolae was not within earshot, Emilian was near, staring and making suggestive comments to her in a teasing manner. Eventually, Sahara had begun to blatantly ignore him. Nicolae had questioned her several times since their departure from Fort Niobrara about Emilian's extraordinary interest in her. But now, as Sahara sat silently by Nicolae's side, watching the fires roar in an attempt to keep the frightened gypsies warm, she knew she would not be able to hold her silence much longer.
Ever since the gypsies had left Fort Niobrara, Emilian had taken it upon himself to reinstate himself with the travelling caravan. At first, his presence had startled everyone. But, since he was mahrimed, no one dared to speak to him. Instead, they ignored him. Eventually, as the weeks passed, no one even noticed. They were too concerned about the miles that lay between them and the winter encampment. Sahara had grown used to seeing the men wear light and open gypsy blouses, now replaced with drab, thick flannel. Tugging gently at Nicolae's arm, Sahara realized she wanted to arrive at the winter camp where the weather was warmer so she could shed her own heavy dresses and underclothing. She was tired of wearing shoes, having grown accustomed to walking barefoot during the summer months. “Nicolae?”
“What, S'hara?” Nicolae refused to look away from the fires. The brillant flames hypnotized him as he thought about the gypsies. The weather grew colder by the day. Some of the children were sick with colds. Nicolae feared for the kumpania if they did not reach the winter camp by the first snow fall.
With more determination, Sahara tugged at his shirt again. “Nicolae!”
This time, he tore his eyes away from the dancing flames. `Tis the only thing that dances anymore, he thought with disappointment. The town people refused to trek to the gypsy camp in such cold weather and without a paying audience, none of the gypsies wanted entertainment. Some of the older women had gone into town shortly after the travelling caravan had camped for the night, offering to read fortunes and a couple of men had tried to trade horses. The latter failed. “Why are you so impatient for my attentions?”
Her sense of humor had dwindled in the past month. She was tired of travelling for many days then camping for only one or two. She liked living in the different places for a week or two. Constant travel was wearing on her nerves. It surprised her that none of the other gypsies were anxious to stop the continual movement. “I wish to retire for the evening.”
Nicolae stood up, reaching down to help her to her feet. She was six and a half months pregnant now and beginning to feel the burden inside. Duda had helped Sahara make her maternity clothing, carefully reminding her that every article she wore during her pregnancy would have to be burned afterward. Sahara didn't care one way or the other, so she simply nodded, not putting up a fuss.
The orange glow from the fires reflected on her face as she smiled pleasantly at Nicolae. “I'll go myself. Might do me some good to be alone for a while. Besides, you obviously don't want to leave.”
“If that is what you want.”
Sahara placed her hand on his cheek. The gentleness of her smile touched his heart. Carrying his child was no easy task. Every so often, the baby shifted, especially when they were travelling. The older women told her that meant the baby would arrive early. Sahara had greeted that news with enthusiasm. When Nicolae had lifted the mahrime off of her, Sahara had promised herself that she would try to please him. He had jeopardized
everything for her and she was aware of it. So, if only for Nicolae's benefit, Sahara calmed her temper and endured the hard travel without so much as one complaint.
Nicolae kissed the inside of her hand. “I will not be long.”
Sahara waited until Nicolae was seated again before heading into the darkness toward the tent she shared with Nicolae. The camp was quieter than usual. Only the crackle of the fire burning and an occasional cough from one of the men relaxing by the flame's warmth shattered the silence. Most of the children were already asleep while their mothers packed what little they had taken out of the wagons to prepare the evening meal. Shivering in the cold, Sahara pulled the flap back to her tent. Quickly, she lit
the lantern then bent over the trunk to pick up a blanket. Wrapping it around herself, she rested her hand on her enlarged stomach. It was a son. She knew it was. A son to carry on the family legacy and make Nicolae proud.
“You are feeling ill?”
Sahara wheeled around, halfway startled by Emilian's unexpected appearance. Facing him, she sputtered, “You are out of place!” Quickly, she regained her composure and straightened her back as she held her chin high. Nicolae had been patient with Emilian's intrusion into the kumpania but certainly an intrusion on his wife he would never accept. “You must leave.”
Quite unexpectedly, Emilian grabbed Sahara, pulling her into his arms. His breath warmed her neck as he whispered, “Is that what you really want?”
A blush rose to her cheeks at the insinuation in his question. How could he actually think she would want to sleep with him? Leave Nicolae for him? Even though she hated admitting it, her heart belonged to Nicolae. Calmly, she tried to pry herself out of his arms. “Please control yourself!” When she managed to escape his grasp, she straightened her skirt and shook her head. “You are mistaken if you believe yourself in-love or that I could ever love you. I love Nicolae and no man will ever change that.”
Emilian ran his fingers through his dark hair, ruffling his loose curls. His eyes looked lost and blank. “Does he care, S'hara?”
Sahara shut her eyes, almost wishing Nicolae would return. The more she put Emilian off, the more he chased her and the bolder he got. “You will leave my tent at once!”
He laid a finger gently on her lips. “One day I will return to receive your open arms.”
“Never!” Sahara practically spat the word out of her mouth. The thought of lying in Emilian's arms sent horrifying chills down her spine. Although a handsome man, he appealed to her no more than any other man. She only had eyes for Nicolae.
And he held her heart so delicately in his hands. “Emilian, if your behavior continues, I will be most eager to tell my husband of your advances!” Emilian's response was a smile as he backed out of her tent.
Lying under the blankets on the soft feather matt
ress, Sahara wondered how much longer she could put up with Emilian. Certainly the rest of the kumpania noticed the special attention their unwanted guest gave to Nicolae's wife. Sahara was uncertain as to Emilian's change in behavior. In the beginning, he was satisfied with being distant friends. Now, it seemed to Sahara that the closer they got to the winter encampment, the more desperate he became.
An hour after she had fallen asleep, a bottle broke outside. Sahara rolled over, tossing her arm across the empty mattress. Her eyes opened, frightened to find Nicolae not there. Sitting up, Sahara rubbed her eyes as she listened. Was someone fighting? She could barely hear Nicolae's voice over the loud babbling of a man, obviously speaking through rakiya. Frightened for Nicolae, Sahara hurried out of bed and tossed on a skirt and blouse. Grabbing her shawl, she threw it around her shoulders and left the tent.
The voices were near the dying embers of the furthest fire. Quietly, Sahara snuck through the shadows toward the dark figures. Hiding behind a wagon, Sahara looked around the corner at the men. As she had suspected, one was very obviously Nicolae and another his father. But the other two men didn't sound gypsy to her. The orange glow from the fire reflected off a short, fat man. A gadjo, she thought. The men had lowered their voices, making it difficult for Sahara to hear what was said. The two empty bottles by the strange men's feet suggested they had been drinking at the camp for a while. Satisfied that Nicolae was not in danger, Sahara quietly backed into the shadows and returned to their tent, waiting impatiently for Nicolae to return.
Half an hour passed before Sahara heard someone approaching. Pulling the blankets around her, she stared intently at the tent opening. Nicolae threw it back, his eyes briefly meeting Sahara's in the faint light from the lantern. His face looked strained and tense. Startled to see Sahara awake, although silently pleased, Nicolae sat on the end of the trunk, pulling his boots off with much effort. Within seconds, he had removed his clothing and laid next to Sahara in the dark.
Brushing her hand against his bare shoulder, Sahara asked softly, “What has happened, Nicolae?”
Leaning on one elbow, Nicolae looked down at her face, faintly illuminated in the shadows of his mind. Damn her beauty, he thought as he reached out to push a piece of her raven hair off her cheek. “A good wife would not ask, S'hara.” He could sense her smile in the darkness. “But then, when have you been a good wife, yes?”
“I've done the best I could for you.”
Nicolae ran his hand down her chin and traced a line from her throat to the large swell of her stomach. The warmth of her skin excited him. They had not shared love since the day he had learned of the pregnancy. Gypsy custom forbade it. While Sahara had managed for the gypsies to break other traditions, this was one Nicolae made no attempt to change. “Ah, S'hara. You have done very well indeed!” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. Sighing, Nicolae laid back into the mattress and pulled the blankets up to his chin. The chill of the night scared him. “You have asked me a question which I must answer.” He hesitated. How would she react? “There are storms brewing quite close. We will not escape winter as I had hoped. Too many things happened and we have gotten caught in a very scary situation. Tomorrow, we must pull up and get the hell out of here. If we do not reach camp within two weeks, we may as well go back up north. It would serve the same purpose for we will die.” He paused, waiting to hear Sahara's reaction. There was none. “We are going south. No stops except to rest the horses. The Rom Baro and I just spoke for a long time with two gadjo that have come from the north. Already blizzards curse the north, the land covered with snow and freezing winds. The gadjo warned us to leave at once but I convinced the Rom Baro that we wait ‘til the morn.”
Sahara knew from past experience how terrible the blizzards could be. Every winter, men had told horror stories about people lost in the snow storms, only to be found frozen to death afterwards. Visions of the entire gypsy caravan being lost in a storm haunted her. She knew they haunted Nicolae too. She wondered if his hesitance to leave might have something to do with her. Holding her breath, Sahara whispered, “We should leave immediately.”
Nicolae shivered as a cold wind snuck into the tent. That was what his father had said. But waking the gypsies would only cause unnecessary panic. “We should but...”
Suddenly Sahara sat up, reaching for his hand. Clutching it to her heart, she cried out, “I don't want to worry anymore! I want to move. I want to get there and rest! I'm tired of travelling! I'm sick of praying we get there! Every day I worry about how we will survive if a blizzard should hit. Every night, I fear for the children. They are not as strong as they should be. They can't run and play. Instead, they sit in wagons all day until we stop for the night.” She hesitated, taking a moment
to catch her breath. “I will drive a wagon through the night if I must. But I will not watch these people freeze to death!”
Nicolae wrapped his arms around her. She let him hold her as she fought the tears that came to her eyes. Her arms crept round his neck, startled at the amorous feelings aroused in her by his bare skin touching hers. Unknown to Sahara, Nicolae felt the same physical emotions. “S'hara, do not worry. I would never let anything happen to you or the kumpania. Get some sleep and we will leave first thing in the morn, yes? Everything will be fine.”
Sniffling back the tears, Sahara rested her cheek against his chest, wishing desperately they had already reached winter camp. “Oh Nicolae, what are we going to do?”
“We will be fine. It is only October, yes? By the time the first real snow falls, we will be out of danger. I promise you that.” Nicolae held Sahara in his arms, soothing her as a tear escaped from her eye. He felt the wetness against his cold skin. A shiver ran through him as he gently caressed Sahara's back until she finally fell back to sleep. Sleep did not come to Nicolae that night. Instead, he laid awake, his arms wrapped around Sahara as he stared into the darkness, wondering if that was the first promise to Sahara he would unintentionally break.
Emilian watched Amaya. She sat with the Rom Baro, leaning close to him and laughing at his soft words. The Rom Baro was happy, happier than Emilian had ever seen him. At night, they would dance together, the rest of the kumpania disappearing before their eyes. Emilian knew that the abiav ceremony would happen soon and then there would be no going back. He also knew that there was another danger, one of which no one spoke. If Amaya had another child, a son, with the Rom Baro, he would be of stronger blood to lead the two kumpanias. Emilian would be stuck with an infant bride and no kumpania to lead.
He waited until she left the Rom Baro’s side. He presumed she was going to check on the child. Slipping into the shadows, he followed her, his heart pounding inside his chest as he glanced over his shoulder to insure that he, too, was not being followed. But the Rom Baro had not moved and the rest of the gypsies were dancing and eating, ignoring the silence beyond the fires.
It was when she started to return to the fires that he grabbed her. With one hand, he covered her mouth. With the other, he pulled her against his chest. He was stronger than her, despite the four-year difference in age between them. He could feel her flesh under his hand and he realized that he had never before touched a woman. The warmth of her skin and the floral smell of her hair caused a warm sensation to flow over him. For a moment, his mind wandered and he darted his eyes toward the fire. No one would know, he thought. And she would never speak of it or risk losing the Rom Baro.
She struggled in his arms.
He lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, “If you move, I will break your neck, Amaya. First yours and than your bastard child’s!”
Immediately, she froze. He could feel her pulse quickening. For a moment, he let his hand wander, feeling the skin of her shoulder and arm. He shut his eyes and breathed. The air was warm and the music overpowering. He let his hand slip down to her breast. He shuddered and held her closer to his body. He could feel her shivering, a fear sweeping through her body. It aroused him
and he continued to explore her flesh. “I could take you right now, Amaya. And you would not wed the Rom Baro,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “But if you leave, no one will ever find you. You disappear with that child and I will never be able to touch either of you again.”
He flung her away from himself. She landed on the grass, her back to him. Quickly, she straightened herself and started to jump to her feet. But he knocked her down. “And if you tell the Rom Baro, he will not believe you and I will kill your child.” He stood over her, his hands on his hips as he glared at her. For the first time, he saw her as a helpless woman. Her confidence was gone and he could smell the fear, the anger. He felt powerful and alive. Excited. Without another word, he quickly retreated into the darkness, leaving Amaya to collect herself and decide what she was going to do.
Chapter Nineteen
The overcast sky frightened Sahara. With a stiff upper lip, she tightened the reigns of the horses. They were tired and fought the bit as much as they could. One eye remained on the horses, the other on the wagon ahead. Nicolae lead the caravan, riding a friend's chestnut mare with a white blaze down the center of her face. His own horse, a magnificent white stallion, had fallen a week before, breaking its foreleg. With much grief, Nicolae had to put the horse out of its misery. Several men had quickly dragged the horse's body off the road and the caravan had travelled on, not even a second thought to the beast. The wagon lurched to the right, causing one of the horses to stumble. Catching her breath, Sahara cursed at the animal and tried to keep her mind on what she was doing.