by Stephy Smith
A fancy dressed gaje man fell inside. Cleo moved closer for a better look. “Who is that?”
“That, my dear Cleo, is Cleve Garrison, the richest man in Linden. He sleeps here often when his wife locks him out of the house.” Robert reached down and grabbed the man’s arms. As he lifted the man’s head tilted backward, Cleo pulled the knife from Robert’s boot and slit the man’s throat.
Robert dropped the man and quickly stepped back. Cleo cackled. “That felt so good. You should give it a try Robert.” She lowered to her knees and rifled through the man’s clothing. “Look! Five hundred dollars. We’re rich.”
“You’re insane! Not only do we have the gypsies after us, now we will have the town of Linden following us. I hope you have an idea how you are going to get us out of this mess.”
Cleo stood and walked over to Robert. She wrapped her raised arms around his neck and pulled his face close to hers. “Well…we can always join the Black Magic Coven, so we will have their protection. It’s the only way.”
Robert rubbed his chin. His long strides to the door thumped across the floor. He grabbed a shovel and slipped out the door.
“Sherpa? Are you still here?” Cleo bit her lip. She stared down at the form splayed on the wooden floor.
“Yes. You did well. I believe Robert will be joining us in a few hours. Plus, I stole this man’s soul as he was dying.”
Cleo drew in a deep breath. The taste of iron filled the air. She was happy to be of service for the high priestess. Now she could learn more on how to fight the white magic witches that Greta belonged to.
The spell was broken. Doriya drew in a deep breath, and released her hold on Greta. “I know of Sherpa. She is stronger than Madonna.”
“How can we stop her? There has got to be something you can do to help me.” Greta rubbed her stinging arm.
“There is. I am going to need a few days to prepare.” The old woman walked toward her vardo and disappeared behind her door.
Chapter Fourteen
Did I hear you right, Doriya? Thad stopped in his tracks. Her telecommunication stunned him for a few seconds.
Yes, Thad. I want you to go into Robert Ray’s mind. We need to know what Greta is seeing, so we can help her with this. Doriya sounded as if she were trapped inside a long tunnel. I don’t want you to act on your findings.
I don’t like this one bit, but I will do it to help Greta. Thad concentrated on the gaje. From the first day of their training, they had been taught not to eavesdrop in the minds of others. He shook his head, and then the thoughts of Robert Ray came to him. He shivered with anger.
Robert didn’t mind knocking the man on the head. At least the crazy Cleo hadn’t shot him. When he reached the clearing, he planned on returning to Linden and never laying eyes on her again. He would get his riches elsewhere. Then she announced she was coming with him.
His anger boiled deep within him. He had never been one to run from trouble. For the most part of his life he started it. The bewitching Cleo brought down a heap more than he prepared for. There were only two options he now faced. One was to get rid of her, and the other was to put her to work dancing in a dark corner of the livery for the crowd she would bring in.
As they lay hiding from the gypsies trailing them, a shiver crept across his skin. An unseen sinister force surrounded him and Cleo. He was sure she was the cause of it. When it entered in the confining space, Cleo relaxed. Robert got the feeling she had asked it to join them. A shudder ran down the length of him. He wanted no part of that black magic, voodoo stuff.
What did he care as long as she didn’t push it on him? If she danced for the men the way she kissed him, they would have more gold than he could get from the gypsy clan. His breaths evened out as he thought about his plan. The vision of pots of gold replaced his anger.
He left her at the edge of the woods and walked to the old livery where he stayed. A few wayward chickens clucked as he lit the lantern. Horses poked their heads out from their stalls and neighed. Robert didn’t find anyone hiding in the regular places; some men hid to sleep off their night of celebration.
With the lantern in hand, he returned to the door of the barn and waved for Cleo to join him. She stepped out from the shadows. Her hips swayed provocatively in the glow of the moon. His heart skipped a beat. The wind-chilled air circled around the corner of the stables. Cleo’s skirts fluttered to show a portion of her shapely legs. The jingle of her coins tapped out a strange tune that grew louder the closer she got.
Robert’s mouth watered as she neared. She willingly moved into his arms as they entered the structure. He led her to the saddle shed he called home.
“T’aint much, Cleo, but it’s the best I got to offer. Wasn’t expecting to have a woman—” He cut off his words as her hands ran up his sides.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He lowered his gaze to hers. The sweet scent of fresh mint flowed from her partially opened mouth. Her tongue darted out and ran across her full heart-shaped lips. As he reached to pull her to him, she pushed his hands away.
A lump formed in his throat. The pulse in his neck beat against the collar of his shirt. Sweat formed on the palm of his hands. He wiped them down the front of his pant legs. Something hot and mysterious floated in the air of the barn. A form of magical dark life he had never seen swarmed around Cleo.
Without any music, Cleo danced around him. Her hands swaying inches from his body sent warmth burning through his soul. Cleo’s teasing movements seemed to reach, grasp, and then pull back as if she were taking his life force into her. His energy drained as she chanted. Robert fought to keep control, but he knew she would win out and lure him into her web. He let her mesmerizing dance soften his heart. There was no denying she had full possession of him when she stopped dancing.
The stink of the horse stalls greeted Robert as he stepped out of his room. He welcomed the smell since it was better than the stench of blood. His stomach heaved. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear the sight of Cleo’s enjoyment of slitting Cleve’s throat. A shiver ran down his spine.
She was crazier than he thought she was. How could someone do something so horrible to a person just for the sport of it? Now, he was going to have to join the coven she spoke of just for their protection. He didn’t know much about witches, but he guessed he would have to learn since the gypsy pulled him into this mess. It would be pure magic if he ever got out of trouble.
He carried the shovel out the large door of the livery and crept through the dark. At the back of the bank he dug a hole to bury Cleve in. Robert wiped the sweat off his brow. The muffled voices of a couple of men fighting in front of the saloon down the street caused him to pause. He leaned the shovel against the wall and crept to the corner of the building. There was nothing better than a good fight. From the sounds of the crowd, it was a well deserved one.
The men at the saloon were probably wondering why he hadn’t come around for his usual nightcap. He glanced back over his shoulder and shook his head. Cleo would be waiting for him. They had to dispose of Cleve before anyone noticed he was missing.
He hoped Cleo had the good sense to clean the blood from the floor. As soon as Cleve didn’t show up for work in the morning, Robert knew the town would look for Cleve. The man was not known to miss one day of getting his greedy hands on the money of others.
Robert almost laughed as he slithered in the shadows toward the livery. The irony of Cleo killing the man out of greed was creepy. They would have made a good couple if Cleve hadn’t already been married. Even then, one of them was bound to have been killed. They both possessed the same black heart.
The dark alley to his room was familiar to him. But he would need a lantern for Cleo since she wasn’t accustomed to the livery yet. He lit the wick on one of the lamps near the back. Turning, he made his way to the room. A gasp escaped his lips. The crazy woman was dressed in Cleve’s clothing.
“What is going on?” He tried to keep his voice low.
&n
bsp; “I can’t wear a dress to help you carry him, Robert.”
“Grab a hold of his legs, and let’s get this over with.” Together they carried the body to the hole and dropped it in. Cleo went back to the livery to wait for him. After he replaced the dirt, he pulled off his hat and said a few words over the shallow grave.
Robert entered his room. Cleo sat in the chair. She had changed back into her blouse and skirt. Her light voice broke the silence. “Will you join the coven?”
“Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”
Thad had had enough and pulled himself out of Robert Ray’s world. Greta was right in suspecting Cleo was casting her evil witchcraft on the man. At least now he knew where they were staying, and he could send the clan to accuse Cleo and the gaje of murder and attempted murder.
Thad made his way to check on his father. Mr. Porter claimed a large man had hit him with the butt of a pistol. Cleo had held the rifle pointed at his chest the entire time he talked to her. Mrs. Porter scampered around the vardo, first searching for clean bandages and then for more herbs to put on the gash swelling on her husband’s head. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. The candlelight wasn’t enough, thus Thad pulled more from the cupboard and lit them for her.
He turned back to his mother and scanned her face as she smoothed the herbal poultice on his father’s forehead. The same worried look and tear-filled eyes Greta had when he sent her home riddled him with shame. He pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he have pushed her away so easily when all she wanted was to check on his parents?
“Let me help with that, Mama.” Thad took the pestle and mortar from his mother’s hands. He began crushing the herbs for more poultices. “I think I may have hurt Greta.”
“Why would you think that?” Althea Porter paused as she glanced at him.
“I wouldn’t let her come with me. She told me that Cleo and the gaje were trying to kill her when I was shot. I questioned her knowledge. Doesn’t she understand she is the target and needs protection?”
“Women also feel the need to protect their loved ones, Thaddeus.”
“She can’t protect me from what is to happen.”
“Nor can you protect her from what is to be destined.”
Thad swallowed the lump in his throat. His mother was right. What is to be, will be. That didn’t mean he had to like the circumstances. He slunk down in a chair as he thought about the situation brewing within the camp.
The time he was out searching for Cleo and Robert Ray, the only thing that kept him going was the thought to keep Greta safe. When he wasn’t near her, his insides were empty as if someone had taken everything in life and buried it in the ground. Every breath he took reminded him of her. With each notch in a piece of wood he created something with her in mind. His life was nothing but a mere scavenger hunt searching for its driving force. As a delightful outcome, Greta was his.
Chapter Fifteen
Greta twirled her thumbs. Her mother, Sarah, sat next to her on the edge of the bed. The younger children sitting on the floor leaned against the wall. Andrew paced from one end of the vardo to the other. His curses resounded at each end as he turned around.
“What did I do to cause trouble to our family?” Greta’s voice cracked. She shook uncontrollably as her sobs convulsed from her chest. Her heart pounded in her ears. The warmth of her mother’s hand rested in the middle of her back.
“You didn’t do anything. No one knows what causes a possessed mind like Cleo’s. She may have conjured the dead or let the gaje influence her. Until her father finds her, we will not have any answers.” Andrew knelt before Greta and lifted her chin with his knuckles.
Her father’s dark eyes were as full of confusion as everyone else’s in her family. A quiver ran down her spine. The sinking in her stomach brought bile to her throat. Her family was at risk because of her. Something she had done and didn’t even know what it was. She thought of all the times she and Cleo had spent together. Not once in many years had they even so much as had a major disagreement. Or none that she knew of. How could this be happening to her?
Greta thought on the gaje. She had never seen him before until the night Thad was shot. Why would he target her for her coins? When did he see her? Why didn’t he notice that all the other women in camp also had gold fastened to their hair and on their skirts? She encased her face with her hands. To wish this were happening to some other family was just as wrong as Cleo attacking her.
Mumbles from outside the vardo echoed through the walls. She jumped from the bed and hurried to the door. Her father’s large hand grasped her shoulder and pulled her behind him. He then opened the door. The clan stood on the ground below. Greta and her father stepped out to hear what they had found.
“Cleo and the gaje are both gone.” Thad lowered his head as he spoke. “We have questioned Mr. Little. He claims he cannot find his daughter. He’s blaming the clan for his daughters’ shortcomings.”
Thad raised his glance to Greta and winked.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How can the clan be held responsible? We have done nothing to that girl.” Disgust dripped from Mr. Smith’s words. “She is old enough to make decisions on her own. She is in charge of her actions, not us.”
“Mr. Lee, Mr. Grey, and Sam volunteered to ride to Robert Ray’s stables in Linden. They will find out if the gaje took Cleo there to hide out.” Thad turned to walk away.
“How is your father, Thad?” Greta ran down the steps and caught up with his long strides.
“I don’t know yet. That’s where I’m going. In the meantime, you should stay with your family.” He lengthened his strides.
Her heart plummeted to the depths of her stomach. Thad no longer wanted her around his family because she had already caused injury to him and his father. The sting in her eyes pushed the tears from the brim. The salty taste settled on her lips. She stopped in her tracks and stared at his back as he continued his brisk walk home.
A small soft hand settled on her shoulder. With fisted hands, she twirled around ready to fight. The softness in Aisley’s eyes reached out to Greta. “Would you stay with me while Sam is gone?”
All Greta could manage was a nod. The cousins walked side by side as they made their way across camp. Aisley held the door open for Greta to enter. “I’ll be right here. You can have a few minutes alone.” Aisley pulled the door shut.
Crossing to the bed, Greta slumped down and buried her face in the pillow. Her muffled sobs shook her body. Thad’s feelings for her didn’t run near as deep as hers did for him. He had made it as plain as the nose on his beautiful face. The nerve of him, tempting her into believing in a love so strong she would never have a need for more.
She cursed under her breath, turned over, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Aisley.” Her cousin entered the vardo with two cups of tea. She crossed the floor and sat beside Greta. Aisley held one out to her.
“Are you ready to talk now?” Aisley’s soft voice and kind eyes reached out to Greta.
“Oh, Aisley, things are such a mess I don’t know where to begin.” Steam rose from the cup. The refreshing scent of the herbs reminded her of safer times.
“How about you start at the beginning?”
“You know the beginning.” Greta wiped the last tear from her raw cheek.
“I find it easier to solve my problems when I start at the onset. I may have missed something that could provide an answer.” That was one of the many things Greta admired in her cousin. Aisley always had a listening ear and caring arms for those in need of comfort. She also had the uncanny ability to read others ready to confess their feelings.
“I love Thad. But I’m not certain he feels the same.”
“He does so. Men are complicated at times. And I suppose they feel the same of women.”
“You and Sam are always so…cheerful.” Greta gazed into Aisley’s soft dark brown eyes. Her hair hung over her shoulder and cuddled her protruding belly.
; Her cousin’s laughter was soft. Then she turned to Greta. “It’s not always that way. We have our bouts the same as everyone.”
“Why wouldn’t Thad let me join him to look in on his father? He doesn’t want me around now that I have caused injury to him and his father. He’s probably afraid I’ll bring harm to the rest of his family. I can’t blame him for that. But he wouldn’t even stop and explain to me how he feels.”
“Is this why you think he doesn’t love you?”
“Only part of it. I heard Cleo and the gaje Robert Ray. She said she was aiming at me. The bullet was meant for me, not Thad. When I told him of these things, he didn’t believe me until Cleo and the gaje tried to enter his vardo during the dance tonight.”
“Why didn’t you tell your father? He would have listened to you.”
Greta lowered her gaze to her hands. She ran her fingers around the rim of the cup. “If Papa would have gone to Mr. Little, he would have received the same treatment. Mr. Little is blaming the clan for what Cleo did. I didn’t want Papa to be shunned.”
“Even though Mr. Little is now in the midst of a crisis because of his daughter, he should not be cast away. The clan should wrap their arms around him and offer comfort to him and his family. He is angry at the accusations brought upon his daughter, not the clan as a whole.”
“If it were any other family, would you feel the same? Aisley, you were taken by the gaje. Tell me, were they mean to you? Do you not hate all of them for what they cast upon your parents?”
“First off, those men hit me in the head and took me away. They shot my mother. As she was healing, they came back and started our home on fire. I still hear the screams of my parents in my dreams.” Greta noticed the moisture pooling in Aisley’s eyes. “When they shot me, I was numbed by grief. I didn’t know I was injured. Sam discovered the wound.”
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m so sorry.”