by Stephy Smith
“I’m only going to bring you some broth and tea to help you gain your strength. I shall return within a few minutes, Thad.” He nodded to her as she exited out the door. What if she was right and Cleo was out to kill her? His mind couldn’t bear the thought. He ran his hand down his face. Now that she had planted the seed, it grew with the nightmare living in his brain. He felt helpless to protect her from the hands of Cleo and the dark witch Madonna. He wanted to curse but held his tongue. To still his mind, he counted the seconds until she returned with the broth and tea in hand. He breathed easier when she entered. This time she had a smile on her face.
Thad did nothing but worry about Greta all day. He hated being confined to the vardo as much as he had when he was younger and sick. The thick aroma of the healing herbs always reminded him of illness and injury. His stomach churned. Greta had left. She was out in the midst of what she portrayed as an evil clan member.
When he was awake, he prayed for her protection. He studied the faces of the clan members when they paid him a visit. One by one, he ruled them out. The talisman never changed as the visitors came and went. Surely, the person who did this to him would come to finish him off. He kept his hand on the loaded pistol that a gaje used for payment of his services a few years before. He hid the weapon beneath his loose fitting shirt. No one seemed to notice since it was his injured arm.
If Greta was correct, that would put everyone in the clan in danger. His mind tormented him until her return. His mood lightened when she came to relieve his mother. Red and blue dyed her finger tips. The aroma of the fresh berries she had picked lingered on her hands as she cupped them on his face. Her full lips descended on his. Her hair tickled his exposed neck. The warmth of her nearness settled his soul.
The foreboding agony of the day faded into the quiet reunion with her safe in his vardo. He slipped his good arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She willingly leaned into his embrace. When she broke the kiss, he breathed in deeply. “I missed you today.”
“And I you. I did have a challenge though.”
He froze his assault on her neck. “What did you encounter now?” His mind reeled with unwanted images of her being held at bay by Cleo or Madonna.
“I had a fight with my mind. It kept telling me to run to your side.” Her giggle caressed the hollow of his throat. “Oh, and a bunny snuck up on me and tried to steal my basket of berries for the communal pot.”
“After we marry, will you still fight with yourself to stay away from me?” His labored breath returned to normal.
“I’m afraid it may get worse. Do you think Doriya would have a cure for my demise?” Her soft voice mingled with her giggles. A pleasant rise of goose bumps covered his flesh. His lap cooled as she moved to the chair next to his. He reached over and encased her soft hand in his.
No matter how old he grew to be, he would never grow tired of Greta. Just the thought of her being unprotected when she wasn’t within his sight turned his stomach. If his worrying for her grew stronger, he was sure to have gray hair within the first year of their marriage.
His mother entered the vardo with two bowls of stew and a pot of herbal tea. She sat the tray of food on the top of the built-in clothes chest. “I’ll return after the cleanup, so you can go to the dance, Greta.”
“I’m going to pass on the dance tonight. You stay and enjoy yourself. Seems my dance partner is unable to attend. I’ll return to the dances when he’s back at my side.”
Thad thought Greta had answered a little too quickly. Did she still think the bullet was intended for her? It was unlike her to miss the opportunity to flaunt around the fire to set his desires flaming. Of course, he wouldn’t be there. He knew she danced only for him.
“Are you positive?”
“Oh yes, ma’am. I already caught the eye of my one true love. I don’t want to take up space for some other young lady to woo her sweetheart.” Again, she blessed him with her angelic laughter and the wave of the hand. The dullness in her eyes was of confusion and fright. Thad felt the shudder shake her body. She fought off most of it. However, it was there and cause for concern.
Even in their younger years, his black-haired beauty had never shown fear of any kind. Not even when the gaje had kidnapped her cousin. Greta was the first one to pick up a stick and vowed to hunt down the trappers who had taken Aisley Smith Grey. When the same men killed Aisley’s parents, Greta volunteered to single handedly track them down like deer in the woods to make them pay for the wrongs they committed against her family.
She may be capable of fooling most of the caravan, but he wasn’t falling for it. He knew her too well to dismiss the fact she was scared out of her wits. He would talk to Aisley tomorrow while Greta was out doing her chores. If there was concern enough to scare Aisley, Greta had a good reason to be frightened. He had to find a way to get her to confide her fears in him. Thad knew she trusted him. There had to be a reason she was holding back.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t told him her concerns. Another thing he noticed was the way she didn’t just come out and say what was on her mind when they spoke that morning. Greta usually was direct and to the point. This morning she was elusive and extremely too quiet for his liking.
Thad glanced at his lady fair. “Could you help me get to the bed? I think I shall rest a while. This chair is getting a little hard on my backside.”
Greta stood and waited for him to move to the edge of the chair. Then she slipped her hand under his arm and helped him stand. She paused for a minute keeping him steady. When he felt it was safe to move, he placed one shaky foot in front of the other until they reached the edge of the bed.
Her soft touch tingled his skin. The gentleness in her assistance to help him turn around warmed his soul. After he sat, she removed her arm from under his. Then she slipped her hands under the back of his legs and twisted him around. His moans were minimal he thought, compared to when his mother helped him into the chair earlier in the day. It was the effects of the herbal tea he sipped on.
“Would you like your stew? You need to eat it before it gets cold. Besides, I’m a little hungry myself.” She moved away from the bed and walked to the dresser where their evening meal had been placed. Steam rose from the bowls. Greta pulled a chunk of bread from the loaf on the tray and grabbed a bowl of the stew.
Her eyes never wavered from the hot bowl as she crept across the floor and handed it to him. While she stood by the bed, she pulled the homemade quilt up around him. Twisting around, she retrieved her portion and then sat in the chair next to the bed.
Greta took a bite of her stew. She closed her eyes as she chewed. A moan escaped through the mouthful of food. Thad watched the knot slide down her slender, sensuous throat. His body reacted with a peculiar desire. How could the simple act of watching her eat stir passion coursing his veins? The talisman affixed to the waist of his trousers heated. He let the breath out he was holding.
“Tastes like someone found a fresh stand of wild onions. The flavor of the stew is enhanced tonight. You should try it.” She opened her mouth and waved the spoon in her hand toward his bowl.
The heat rose on his cheeks. How did she know he was so engrossed in staring at her he had forgot his own meal? Her eyes were closed. Could she see through her lids? He managed a smile before he took his own bite of food.
“I think it’s the berries that your hands touched that gives it the sweetest flavor.” He gazed into her eyes. The worried look on her face had softened since she had entered the vardo. She glanced his way and then raised her gaze to the ceiling.
“Why didn’t your talisman warn us?”
“I was in a hurry to join you at the fire. I guess I overlooked fastening it to my waistband. I don’t know if it would have made a difference since everything happened so fast.”
Chapter Ten
Thad fell asleep after Greta served him his broth and tea. As he snored in the comfort of his bed, she tiptoed from the vardo and quietly shut t
he door. She had to finish her daily chores and take a lesson from Doriya, the Shuvihani. The old woman was the teacher for the healers, fortune tellers, and other classes. Doriya could make the hair stand up on one’s neck with her spooky antics.
Doriya pulled Greta aside. “Today I want to read you your future.”
Greta bit her bottom lip. Even though she trusted Doriya, she was the one woman Greta didn’t want her fortune read by. She had witnessed Doriya’s readings many times, and the old gypsy was always correct. Her secret from the shooting would become the knowledge of the one person in the clan who could cast the gypsy curse. A shiver trickled down her spine.
“In private, Greta. No one will know, except you and me, what is said in this meeting. I will not come forward until you release me from this promise I now make to you.” Doriya pulled on Greta’s arm and led her to her vardo. The steps squeaked as they ascended. Doriya pushed the door open to the red, purple, and gold wagon parked away from the rest of the caravan. They entered into the dimly lit interior. A small, round table sat in the center with a crystal ball covered with soft cloth.
“Doriya—”
“Hush, child, the cards will tell me what I need to know to help you. What they don’t say the crystal ball will.” The crooked finger of Doriya pointed to the ball sitting on the table. She motioned for Greta to have a seat, and then she took hers across the table.
Within mere seconds, the cards lay on the table. The old woman’s face grew sinister. She turned her old eyes to the crystal ball. “Oh dear… you are in grave danger, Greta. You still wear the amulet, yes?”
“I know,” Greta whispered. “Why didn’t Thad’s talisman protect him?” She twisted her fingers in the material of her skirts.
“I asked the same thing. Thad wasn’t carrying his talisman when he was shot. Greta, I think you should go to the elders with this. This is a clan problem, and not one you can solve on your own. As I have promised, I will not breathe a word of this, but I implore you to seek help.” Doriya reached her hand across the table and squeezed Greta’s arm. A spark of warning flowed from the Shuvihani’s touch upon Greta’s skin.
“I need proof before I ask for their help.” Tears stung the back of Greta’s eyes.
“Does Cleo and her friend know you have seen them?”
“Yes. Madonna pulled me into Cleo’s body. I tried, but I couldn’t fight her. She caught me off guard, and it all happened so fast. They think the clan will blame it on gajes.”
“We need to start on your magic. You must come here to practice every day. The elders are going to fight you on this, and I understand why you feel the need to go it alone. Be careful, Greta. Take this talisman and carry it with you at all times. It will work along with the amulet you wear. No harm will come to you for a while longer.”
Greta stood from her chair and walked over to Doriya. She gave her a hug and turned for the door. “Thank you, Doriya.”
Despite the stillness in the air, a chill shivered Greta to the bone. She tried to shake off the reality of Doriya’s words, but she knew the old gypsy to be right with her wisdom. For now she had nothing to fear except her own thoughts. Greta wound her way through the vardos on her way to the Porter’s.
The voices from the woods played over in her mind. Greta went straight to Thad. What had he thought of the things she had told him earlier? He didn’t dismiss the idea another gypsy was trying to kill her, but he seemed to avoid the issue altogether. She would have to find a way to convince him she had overheard the conversation. And how the gypsy planned to provide her gaje lover with the gold from Greta’s hair and clothing. She had to word everything just right to keep his sharp mind from guessing the truth.
Doriya was right. She should go to the elders and tell them of what she had learned, but they wouldn’t believe her. Her head sagged. No, she couldn’t tell them until she had proof to back the accusation that one of their daughters was trying to commit murder. Even if Doriya stepped forward in Greta’s defense, it would cause problems within the clan. It wouldn’t bother Doriya, but Greta didn’t want the responsibility of dividing the clan.
Fear of another gypsy was nothing she ever thought about. Her parents taught her to beware the gaje. ‘Do not trust them’ were their words. They never said to fear them. The only incident she could remember that included fright was when her aunt and uncle, Aleandro and Rosanna Smith, were murdered by three gaje.
They had also kidnapped Aisley and Rosanna had been hit with an arrow in the hip. If Mrs. Smith could have traveled, they wouldn’t have been attacked the second time. Sam stayed with the family to help Aleandro protect Aisley and Rosanna. The gaje came back to finish what they had started. When Sam and Aisley fled per Aleandro’s orders, Aisley was shot.
Many times the caravan had camped on gaje farms without harm coming to the clan. Who was this dangerous non-gypsy, and why had he chosen her to target? Was he using Cleo to annihilate the women of the clan for their gold?
With a shake of her head, she walked silently to Thad’s vardo. There were too many questions needing answers before she could bring her theory to the rest of the caravan families. Disappointment and anger consumed her thoughts. Greta paused before she let herself in to see Thad.
His face was pale, and he was haphazardly lying on the bed with his eyes closed. Thad’s handsome face scrunched in pain, and his moans filled the vardo. He looked as if he were trying to get out of bed. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest. She rushed to his side.
The plea for her to stay with him ate at her, even though she was only stepping outside to fetch the herbal tea for his pain. After drinking it, he would sleep well into the early morning hours. Then she could do her nightly chores and think of a way to catch Cleo, Madonna, and Robert Ray.
The carnage of the affair was getting the best of Greta. As she spoke to Thad about her concerns, he had tried to assure her the killer wasn’t after any one person, but everyone who got within their sights. She knew different. He didn’t hear the conversation she heard. Finding him in the state he was in, she couldn’t press the reality that Cleo was behind the shooting.
If only she had one person she could trust, besides Doriya, to tell her secret to, she would be happy. It wasn’t her way to bring trouble upon others. She let out a long sigh. Greta glanced at the sleeping Thad. His face had relaxed, and he rested comfortably in the bed. The steady rise and fall of his chest calmed her a bit.
Rising from the chair, she quietly made her way to the door. As she laid her hand upon the handle, she took one last glance before she exited. A breeze whipped her hair across her face. She descended the steps and out into the sunlight. Birds twittered from their high perches in treetops. The camp buzzed with discussions on the shooting.
Greta grabbed her basket and headed out to pick berries. She didn’t have to stand around and listen to the accounts from the night before. The truth hit her full in the face when it came from the vision and the lips of the perpetrators. Thoughts of how she was supposed to meet Thad in the clearing shivered her to the bone.
What if they had reached Cherished Silence? They would have been in terrible danger. Her skin prickled as numbness raced through her body. Thad would have been... She couldn’t finish the thought. Tears welled in her eyes. With all that happened, being in the clearing, just the two of them with the assailants, hadn’t caused her much concern until now.
Would Cleo have shot them both? Her hand shook as she reached out to pull some of the ripe fruit from the bush. Muffled footsteps approached her from behind. She twirled around to face the intruder. Letting out the breath she held, she relaxed as the little brown bunny hopped back into the underbrush.
The harsh, bone-chilling danger of being out in the woods alone shook her. Greta scanned the area. The rabbit had her jumpy and feeling vulnerable. Her heart picked up a beat, and her breath became labored. She pulled in a lung full of air.
From now on, she would have to find a companion to go along with her. At least if someone else
tagged along, there would be a witness to Cleo’s treachery. She grabbed another handful of berries. Turning from the bush, she hurried back down the path to the camp.
Greta breathed a little more easily when she saw the red and green vardos. She paused to put her happy, carefree face on before entering the circle. Her pace slowed. The women in their long flowing, brightly colored skirts scurried about in pairs. Mumbles filled the camp. Children of all ages sat around the Shuvihani. Their shrieks and the tiny little hands covering their mouths brought brightness to dwell in her chest.
Doriya nodded her head toward the vardo where Cleo relaxed on the steps. Cleo stared into the sky. Her dark hollow eyes twinkled as if she were caught up in some kind of fantasy world. Cleo bent down and picked up a long stick. She pointed it at a tree and squeezed her finger as if she had it on the trigger of a gun. A huge grin spread across her face, and she dropped the stick into her lap.
A loud gasp came from the Shuvihani of the clan. For as long as Greta could remember, nothing had ever interrupted one of Doriya’s stories. Cleo had turned her head toward Doriya. The older gypsy pointed her gnarled fingers toward Cleo and narrowed her eyes as she continued with her tale. “Any gypsy who lets a black heart guide their soul will perish from the clan and never be heard from again.”
An evil wail emitted from Cleo echoed in the air. Greta stared and concentrated on the stick. Smoke filtered from one end. Cleo jumped to her feet, and the stick fell to the ground and then burst into flames. Cleo glared at Doriya.
The ability to make the hair stand on the back of one’s neck was a true gift for Doriya. The old woman’s long fingernails protruding from the tips of her fingers put the fear of Satan in the listener’s minds. When she wasn’t telling stories, Doriya was one of the nicest and most trusted women in the camp.
The old woman glanced up at Greta. Doriya smiled and shook her head. She picked up the story where she left off. With the knowledge Doriya garnered this afternoon, she knew that more people’s lives were in danger than Greta wanted to be responsible for.