Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers (11 page)

BOOK: Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers
12.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub


No!

 
Nicolae
suddenly freed he
r and stepped away.  He hurried
to the large flap. 
He stood with his back to her, his shoulder heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  Sahara watched him, breathlessly.  What had she done now?  Did he think her too brazen?  Perhaps he mistook her for
one of those kinds of girls, the kinds that frequented the saloon in order to seek the company of men.  The realization overcame her and she leaned backwards, reaching out for the back of the chair to steady herself.

Nicolae
spoke softly,
his back
still
to her. 

You will st
ay here until I return tonigh
t, S'hara
.  I command you to
not leave this tent.

  Then he was
gone.

She had to gather her thought
s before he came back for her. 
Certainly
Nicolae
believed she w
as going to sleep with him that
night.  He was mistaken.  Quite wrong, she thought as she started
pacing around the post again. 
H
er father had rented out the roo
ms upstairs on a nightly basis, although Sahara was well aware
that it was a rare occasion th
at a man truly spent the entire
night.  As a young girl, th
e animal noises from inside had
aroused her childish
curiosity
.
But when she realized what was
going on, the noises had disgusted
her.  Sahara shook her head as
she leaned against the tent post.
  There was no way
Nicolae
would be
her eternal downfall.  Sinking
to the ground, Sahara sighed.
The sol
emn tone with which
he had spoken the words
left no doubt in Sahara's mind
that if she left, he'd hunt her
down and find her.
  She s
huddered, holding her head with
her hands as she realized the seriousness of her predicament. 

Sahara raised her eyes to
ward the top of the tent as she
sighed and moved over to the feat
her mattress.  Rolling onto her
stomach, she remembered how
her father's tavern had slowly
decayed after Amaya's de
ath.  The outside was no longer
whitewashed but a grungy g
rey as the shutters broke and
eventually fell off the bui
lding.  That was when the rooms
upstairs began to be rented out t
o amorous strangers.  And then, Patrick
sold the piano.  He had
cried when the men came to take it.  It was the
only thing Amaya had t
ruly loved, besides
herself.  She would sit for ho
urs, playing her wild, European
music.  Sahara could still hear
the tin clanging of the keys in
her ears.  Not unlike the mu
sic she had danced to the night
before.  Wild, free, romantic, and full of gypsy. 

Nicolae
was right.  There was no
reason to try escaping only to
return to her father.  He had overworked her and abused her
, mentally
and
physically, whenever possible.  How many nights had she gone hungry as he gambled away the money his tavern made?  How many nights had he drunk more than the customers?  How often had he slapped her for waking up late after working all night?
He had always seemed so angry and distant from her.  She could not remember any tender words or kindness from him, especially after her mother had succumbed to the fever and died.  No, indeed, r
eturning to her father was not an option.




   



She hated the new family almost as much as she hated the new country.  It was wild and barren when compared to Europe.  The people spoke a strange language and lived in small wooden houses.  Except for the few small towns that they came across every few days, there was too much land separating people from each other.  The towns were untamed and dirty, with few ladies and even fewer gentlemen.  The rest were cowboys and outlaws, as far as she could tell.

She spent most of her days by herself, nursing her baby.  In the beginning, people left her alone.  She preferred it that way.  But after a few weeks passed, the older women began to complain to her.  “You want to eat? Then you must work!” they said, tossing some dirty laundry at her to take to the stream to wash.

She let the laundry fall into the dirt.  “I will not wash
your dirty rags,” she snapped and walked away.

They complained to the man, the leader of the family. 
He listened and nodded.  But he did nothing.  He had other things, more pressing things, on his mind.  But he knew that he would have to address the situation soon.  The girl was not adapting to the family and it was up to him to see that she did.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Six

Her heart skipped a beat, s
inking in her chest as she felt
the firm hand squeezing her shoul
der.  Shutting her eyes, Sahara
bit her lip and fell to her k
nees.  How had he known she was
trying to slip under the tent?
Sahara only wanted to get some
fresh air.  Exhausted from
the excitement earlier, she had
nestled under a blanket, shutti
ng her eyes to the throbbing in
her head, and slept all afterno
on, right until dusk.  When she
finally awoke, Sahara began t
o pace the length of the tent. 
After several hours of this, s
he became cramped and restless.
Sahara had finally decided that a min
ute outside was safe enough.
Certainly
Nicolae
would never kno
w. But as she crawled under the
canvas, the heavy hand on her
shoulder proved her wrong.  He
would kill her for sure. 

Nicolae
, I...


Ssh!

  Sahara opened her
eyes quickly, staring up at the
man standing over her.  In the d
im light from the fires, Sahara
recognized the man as
Emilian
.  He
held a long, slender finger to
his lips, telling her to keep s
ilent, afraid that she might draw attention to them. Behind the camp and in the darkness, t
rees loomed
like laughing skeletons as they
reached their bony arms out. 
There was a gentle breeze carrying the breath of spring. 
An
owl hooted in the
distance and leaves rustled, c
ausing Sahara to jump and whirl
around, ready to face any demon
that crept out of the shadows. 
Emilian
ease
d her fright with a gentle hand as he caressed her arm. 

You are thinking of
escape
, yes
?

She wanted to tell him that nothing could be further from the truth.  She had no where to go and no way to get there.  But the words wouldn’t form on her lips.  Instead, s
he looked at him.  In the so
ft glow from the moonlight, she
could barely make out his f
eatures.  While they weren't as
prominent as
Nicolae
's, she could te
ll he was equally as handsome.  
But what had Nicolae said about him?  That he was no longer part of the kumpania?  It dawned on her that, just as she knew nothing about Nicolae, she knew even less about his brother. 

Why are you shunned by your people?

Emilian
's eyes hardened for
a moment then, just as quickly,
his anger disappeared. 

The gypsy ways are strange to you, yes?

When she didn't reply, he answere
d her slowly. 

To my people, I am a ghost.  They look
through me, see not
hing, and move around
me. 


Why?

He avoided her question. 

You hate the gypsies, yes?

  He
paused, waiting for her answe
r.
None came.  In response to her silence,
Emilian
gave a
slight laugh


I cannot imagine why
you should stay
.  But,
S'hara, you must not escape.  You mus
t not leave.  Think hard
about your feelings, S'hara.
Their way of life feels right,
yes?
  Perhaps what is strange is not so strange after all.

For a moment, she wanted to
lash out that the gypsy way of
life would never feel right.  Bu
t it would have been a lie.  As
strange as the gypsies were and as frigh
tening as the experience
was, Sahara had, indeed, felt
as though she belonged with the
gypsies.  More so than she had w
ith her father. 

Everything is
too strange for me to think about my feelings,

she lied.  Then,
she asked,

You weren't at the feast last
night.

  She noticed
the tension in his face. 

Slowly, he answered. 

No, I was not at the slava.


Why not?

Emilian
stared down at her, h
is eyes sad and lonely. 

I had
no business at the slava.
And you have no business thinking about escape, S’hara.  It is dangerous and you don’t belong out there.

“I don’t belong here, either!”

In the shadows from the night, she could see a smile cross his face.  “Ah, S’hara.  Perhaps you actually do.”


Emilian
...

He turned his back to her. 

We go back before
Nicolae
looks for
you,
S’hara
.

The thought of
Nicolae
going into
the tent sent a chill down her
spine.  Swallowing her fears, Sahara
allowed
Emilian
to lift
the back
of the tent f
or Sahara
.
  She started to crawl under and, just briefly, thought that s
he
heard him take one step away from
the tent but his departure was
otherwise silent.  Sighing, Sah
ara took several cautious steps
toward the center of the tent and reached
for the lantern.  The
matches fell out from the bott
om of the lantern's stand.  She
bent down, feeling the ground f
or them.  After she had lit the
lantern, she hung it back up.  

He
r eyes darted around the tent as
she
recounted her meeting with
Emilian
from the previous evening.  He
hadn't been at the slava but when
she had sat on the wagon steps
to eat her papin, he had appeared.  H
ad he been watching her? 
She hadn't noticed him before. 
Not at her father's tavern that
fateful night.  Yet,
Nicolae
had been
there.  Her mind flickered back
to
Nicolae
.  That burning sensation
returned as she remembered him
tenderly taking care of her wound ear
lier that day.  Leaning
against the post
, Sahara felt
light headed as she realized
she actually desired
Nicolae
. He was like
no other man she had ever met.
  The way that the people respected him, the way that he took charge, and the gentleness with which he treated her…at least when others were not around.  He was mysterious yet authoritative.  She felt safe in his presence.
  Perhaps, she tho
ught, that is why
he excites me. 
She flushed at the thought
, embarrassed that she
had actually considered
Nicolae
as a s
uitable mate.
Yet, she
wondered at Emilian’s words.  It was true t
h
at t
he previ
ous night as the slava,
everything had felt right
.  Even
Nicolae
's kiss earlier that
afternoon had felt right, too.
 

Yo
u silly fool,

she said a
loud.

Her thoughts were i
nterrupted as she heard someone
approaching the tent.  She wa
tched the flap curiously as she
recognized
Nicolae
's voice outside
, talking with someone in a low
voice.  As quietly as she could,
Sahara moved toward the flap. 
Leaning forward, she listened but
heard nothing.  Silence. 
Puzzled, she stood upright
.  She stared bac
k at the flap, positive she had
heard someone moving outside.  Movi
ng even closer, Sahara reached
out to move the flap aside and
look for herself. 
But, as she did so, s
omeone else
pulled the flap back from the othe
r side and
Nicolae
entered, bumping into Sahara and spilling hot
fasu
i down the front of her dress. 

S'hara!  What in O Del's name were you doing?

Tears stung her eyes
, the burning on her skin searing and painful

Nicolae
dr
opped the bowl and grabbed her,
practically ripping the dress of
f her body. 

Stay still,

he commanded.
 
Within seconds, t
he
dress lay at her feet in a pile. 
Nicolae
dropped to one kn
ee,
examining her
skin.  It
was
red and warm. 

It will blister, my curious bori.

  He s
tood up and moved to the flap. 
Pushing it aside, he called out,

Duda!  Bring me a cold cloth at
once!

 
Nicolae
returned his attent
ion to the sobbing Sahara.  She
stood before him in her underg
arments, tears falling down her
cheeks.  Unsure whet
her her tears were from pain or
embarrassment,
Nicolae
looked aroun
d for something she could cover
herself with. 
He found a blanket and picked it up, opening it as he said,

Come here, S'hara.

 

Sahara raised her
eyes to meet
Nicolae
's, a mixture of shame and fear in her expression.  She had never been so vulnerable, so naked, in front of a man.  She backed away, her words barely a whisper. 

No.

A dark shadow seemed to cover him and his voice was deep when he commanded,

Come!

 
This time,
Sahara m
oved over to
Nicolae
's side, allowing him to cover her with the blanket so that she could hide her shame.
 

Much
better.

  Duda
peeked her head into
the flap.  When she saw Sahara
standing next to
Nicolae
, wrapped only in a blanket,
she began to
mutter under her breath about this
brazen,
feisty
girl.  Ignoring
Duda's comments,
Nicolae
instructed
her to apply the cold cloth to
Sahara's s
kin
.  He watched prote
ctively as Duda gently rubbed a
muddy mixture of herbs on t
he already blistery skin before
putting the cold cloth on top
of it. 

And see if you can do
something about getting her some
decent clothing for the morn.

 
Duda nodded, picking up
Sahara's torn dress before she
disappeared.

Sahara watched as Duda le
ft the tent.  Miraculously, the
burning in her side was already
subsiding. 

Now I have nothing
to wear tonight!

  Her tears vanished as she realized
Nicolae
now held her captive in his tent.
 

How am I
supposed
to go to my
wagon?

Other books

Skinny Bitch in Love by Kim Barnouin
Perfect Plot by Carolyn Keene
Maggie MacKeever by The Tyburn Waltz
Grayson by Delores Fossen
GladiatorsAtonement by Amy Ruttan
Always and Forever by Cynthia Freeman