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  Greta placed her hand on his arm. She meditated to send healing energy to the hole in his shoulder. Her strength renewed with the duty to catch Cleo. Hope and love bound from her spirit to Thad’s. She grew weak as the energy flowed from her.

  Greta settled back and lost herself in thoughts of how to stop Cleo and the witch. Doriya was looking for a spell to help, but so far, Cleo hadn’t done any magic in front of the clan. The only thing she had done was show disrespect and rudeness to the fellow clansmen.

  Thad jerked and then moaned. His dark brown hair tumbled across his sweaty forehead. Greta swiped it away from his eyes and marveled at the smooth skin of his face. With each stroke of her knuckles across his smooth cheek, a tingle ran up her arm. The jiggling of the doorknob alerted her someone from his family was making an appearance.

  Mrs. Porter silently stepped in. Her tear-stained face wrinkled as she gazed upon her oldest son. Greta moved from her seat at his head to let Thad’s mother sit down beside him. She caressed the slumped shoulders of the woman and then moved to a chair nearby.

  “One always knows things like this are possible. Yet we hope and pray it never happens.” Althea Porter’s voice cracked as she swiped at the free-flowing tears on her cheeks. The woman’s hand shook as she gently touched the bandage on her son.

  “We are fortunate it hit his shoulder. I believe he will be well and complaining of having to take it easy in a few days.” Greta flashed one of her hopeful smiles at Thad’s mother. She didn’t dare voice her fear of infection setting into the wound.

  “I’m afraid the newness and sudden impact of the event has left me in somewhat of an emotional state.” Althea reached for the clean handkerchief Greta held out to her. “Thank you dear. He loves you very much and you him.”

  “We both have very loving, caring parents who have taught us well, Mrs. Porter.” Greta patted the wrinkled hand of Thad’s mother. “We are fortunate to have one another.”

  “Mr. Porter needed a lot of training when we first got married.” A sad smile spread across the elder woman’s face. She dabbed her eyes and then blew her nose.

  “You did a wonderful job in taming the man and your son. I couldn’t have asked for a better marriage arrangement.” Greta never thought of the possibility two people didn’t know or love their intended partners. Except Cleo and Garland.

  Cleo started changing before the announcement. She never mentioned anything about Thad. Not until the dark witch Madonna showed up.

  Which one was in love with Thad? Cleo or Madonna? Was either one capable of loving anyone? If they were in love with him, why did Cleo shoot him? Greta sucked in a deep breath. Madonna would probably want his magic or his soul. She did tell Cleo she was a soul collector.

  “Thank you, Greta. I was furious when Mr. Porter announced he would force the marriage upon you and Thad. We didn’t have the opportunity to get to know one another the way you and my son did. I’ve known of Thad’s love for you for quite some time now. But I didn’t know how you felt, until recently.” Althea ran her fingers through Thad’s hair.

  “I don’t know what to say except I am thankful Thad and I grew up together. He has always been kind and courteous to everyone, even when we were young.” Greta noticed the glistening of new tears forming in the old lady’s brown eyes. The same eyes she looked upon when she stared into Thad’s.

  “Orin and I were not of the same clan. His family traveled a long ways to find me. We only went along with the marriage to satisfy our parents’ agreement. In our day, no one ever questioned their parents’ judgment. He was in love or lust with another woman from his own clan. She was promised to another man and, like us, married out of respect for our ways.”

  Greta was confused. Cleo was fighting against the old ways. She was determined to marry Thad no matter who she hurt. For Thad and Greta, both had accepted each other. Their pledge to one another was sealed around the communal fire.

  “You had to have at least liked each other. I don’t know how I would feel if I were in your position at the time.” Greta shuddered at the thought of being forced into a marriage she didn’t want.

  An odd thought pierced her: she was beginning to understand Cleo’s point of view, and that scared her. Garland was in love with Cleo’s sister. He was willing to sacrifice that true love to keep the old traditions. Cleo’s obsession with Thad became more evident each time Madonna pulled Greta into Cleo.

  “Oh no, Greta. We loathed each other. The performances we had to put on in front of the clan are now comical. Somewhere in those first years, we lost the energy to hate, and that’s when we grew to love one another. It wasn’t an easy task for either one of us to let go of the dreams of marrying someone else.”

  Greta drew in a deep breath. She glanced at Thad and felt sure he truly loved her. With the story his mother just told, she found herself questioning his feelings for her. Were they real or put on for the sake of keeping the agreement their parents had made? Somewhere deep in her, the doubt began to eat away all promises of the happy marriage to Thad.

  “Why don’t you go rest? You need to renew your strength for when he wakes up. I will send for you if there is any change.” Althea stood and hugged Greta before ushering her to the door.

  One more glance at the exposed muscular chest covered by the white linen bandage tugged at her heart. Heat rose to her cheeks as she dreamed of running her fingers across Thad’s taut muscles. “Yes. I am a bit exhausted.” Greta tiptoed from the vardo.

  As she turned to descend the stairs, Orin Porter started up the steps. He nodded. “How is my son?”

  “He’s sleeping now. The tea eased his pain and made him sleep.” Greta wished she could say the same for her. Between the confusion of Cleo’s actions and stress of Thad’s injuries, Greta was having a hard time with her own thoughts.

  “We didn’t find the ones who did this. Tomorrow we’ll resume our search. It’s a shame when a man can’t take his favorite girl for a walk without fear of being shot. That’s exactly what this demon has done to our people. Good night, Greta.”

  “Yes. Yes it is. You need to rest, Mr. Porter.” Greta fumbled with the words. She couldn’t think of anything wise or wonderful to say.

  She walked past the congregated throng and toward her parents’ campsite. When she reached the steps to go in, the darkness engulfed her. The fire they had danced around was nothing more than glowing embers. The stillness of the air left her lonely inside.

  Moonbeams peeked through the boughs of the tall trees. The call of the lighted path beckoned her to follow it to Cherished Silence where she and Thad planned to visit after the celebration. It was their secret hideaway even though everyone in camp knew about it. Many other newly betrothed couples also met there. Husbands and wives often discussed problems in its center, or to enjoy a few moments away from the prying eyes of the clan.

  As she stepped into the path, the amulet she wore around her neck warmed her skin. It glowed as she made her way toward Cherished Silence, and she wondered what it was trying to tell her. The night before, she could feel the heat from the necklace when Thad pulled her into his embrace.

  She smiled as she thought of how he had taught her to kiss not only with her lips, but also with her heart. They had stood in the center of Cherished Silence entangled in each other’s warm embrace. Greta recalled the kiss Thad had given her and stored it in her heart.

  With each step she took, the dew that collected on the tufts of grass cooled the soles of her bare feet. Ivy and moss climbed the thick tree trunks and wrapped around the lower branches. Moisture floated in the air. Spanish moss hung from the branches and swayed in the dark early morning breeze.

  Near the clearing, Greta heard the muffled voices of a man and a woman. The amulet changed colors. It froze to her skin. She slid under the dense brush lining the path. Her heart pummeled her chest. Broken limbs and twigs mixed with dried grass stuck in her blouse and skirt as she wedged her way to the open area. There in the center was Cleo Little and the
gaje. Greta wondered if Mr. Little or Doriya would be looking for Cleo.

  Greta clinched her eyes shut. She tried to shake the cobwebs of deceit forming in her mind. She didn’t want to believe what she had seen was real. At least the part where Thad had been shot by one of her own clansmen. Since she could remember, Greta had known Cleo. They grew up together, wove baskets, and picked berries side by side. During all those years, Greta would never have guessed Cleo would have such a dark, careless soul. Until Cleo took on a dark aura. Greta tried to believe one day after Cleo married that would all change.

  “You were supposed to wait until they were away from the clan. You’ve ruined everything for us. How am I to get that gold from her hair and her skirts? Why did you shoot him anyway?” The narrow-eyed glare of the man fixed on the gypsy woman. His thick hand wrapped in her hair and pulled her up against him. Cleo wrapped her slender arms around his neck.

  Greta sucked in the raw, savage rage welling inside her. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out her hatred. Her hands felt unclean as she remembered how she had held the hands of the defiled Cleo while she read her palm and practice with the tarot cards years before. A disgusting shiver ran down her spine as she continued to listen to the conversation.

  “You should have seen the way they were looking at each other. It was sickening to watch as they practically rolled all over each other with their intimacy. Oh come now, Thad is a mere gypsy man. What does it matter if he is dead or alive? You can’t stay mad at me forever.” Cleo’s pouty lips made Greta’s stomach churn.

  Without wanting to risk detection, Greta had no choice but to wait until the tryst was over before she could go back to the camp. By then the nasty wench would be tucked in her bed as if she had been there all along. Greta had to prove Cleo had defiled herself by using the gaje of her own free will. There had to be a way to set up the pair without using white magic and where someone in the clan other than her would catch them.

  The man’s brassy voice drew her away from her thoughts. “Are you sure there isn’t a way you can snatch the gold from her? You could lure her farther into the forest to pick berries with you. I could hide and hit her in the head, slit her throat or something quieter than shooting her. You said she has more gold hidden about those precious curves of hers. For those I would like to do the prospecting.”

  “Greta and I are not close friends. We are civil to one another when we speak. Without the kind of bond you are inquiring about, I couldn’t possibly get close enough to secure her coins.” Greta choked back the gasp rising in her throat as she watched Cleo rise on her toes and kiss the gaje. “You must run along now. I have to return to the vardo before I’m missed. The others are holding a vigil to send healing to Thad.”

  “Shall we meet tomorrow night? You should work on a way to become friendlier with, what did you call her…Greta?” The man took liberty to run his hands over Cleo’s backside before he turned to leave the clearing. Cleo started down the path toward the caravan, humming as if nothing had happened.

  Greta crawled from her hiding spot. The words between Cleo and the gaje left an uneasy mix of emotions running through her mind. She bit her lower lip as she peered down the trail to make sure Cleo was out of sight before she made her way back to camp. The amulet warmed as the scoundrels left the clearing.

  Chapter Nine

  Thad thrashed around on the bed. He battled to open his eyes. His yells were trapped in his throat. Heaviness on his chest pinned him to the mattress. Shaking his head side to side, he tried to wipe out the nightmare forming in his brain.

  Sparks and lightning bolts flashed around him. An odd, intense hatred settled in his soul.

  A dark lady cackled. She danced around the fire for a strangely dressed man. The man’s hands ripped at the coins sewn to her skirts. A bone-jarring shiver ran down Thad’s spine. The gypsy woman’s heart had darkened with envy.

  A small moan drew him to the side. Greta wiggled, yanked, and fought the bonds binding her to a tree near the fire. Gnarled, darkened fingers snatched at her hair. A man yanked his hands back as Greta’s amulet shot lightning bolts into his charred finger tips.

  Thad finally shook loose of the terrifying scene. His breath labored. The sweat-soaked covers stuck to his skin.

  Thad sat up. Something was wrong. Greta should have been there by now. The glow of her amulet burned in his mind. She was in some kind of danger, but he didn’t know what. His hand shook as he raised it to the wound on his shoulder. Darkness threatened to consume him as he fought to remain conscious.

  After Greta left him the night before, his mother told him of the long talk they had while he was resting. He was sure he had been awake when she left the vardo. His mood turned gloomy and silent. His energy ran low and the nightmares of the couple loomed in his mind. The unbearable idea of not being able to protect Greta drove his desire to rise from the bed and seek her out.

  The pounding thuds from his heart pulsed in his veins. He grasped his shirt and clenched his teeth. Sucking in a deep breath, he then pushed his arm through the sleeve. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he leaned back for a moment to stop the swirling in his head. His shoulder burned as if someone poked him with a hot iron, singeing his skin from front to back. In the midst of his pain, he barely heard the door handle twist.

  Greta peeked around the door. Thad let out the breath he was holding. He breathed in the freshness of the berries as she slid through the door. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting her to see the pain. Her footsteps were light as she traipsed across the wooden floor of the vardo. The bed sagged when she sat next to him.

  A groan welled in his throat. Thad raised his hand and waited for her to take it. Her soft skin warmed his calloused palm. The sweet aroma of berries grew stronger, and he heard her set something on the shelf above his head. The warmth of her breath caressed his cheek. Her hair trickled down upon his neck, tickling him with silent passion that only she could excite.

  Greta’s soft lips brushed upon his. Her tongue invaded the threshold of his teeth. Searching, exploring as if to devour the remnants of desire from the dance last night. He tried to lift his arm and wrap it around her. Once again, the pain shot through him leaving him weak and at her mercy.

  A drop of wetness fell upon his forehead. He opened his eyes as she swiped at her eyes. Dark circles formed beneath the dull, sorrow-filled orbs. There was no gleaming radiance surrounding her. The troubled minds of the clan worried her on more than one occasion. By the look on her face, she wasn’t finding the positive outlook now.

  “Greta, has something else happened? What’s wrong?” Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He could feel her body tense as she sat on the mattress. Her body shivered.

  “About last night…Thad, I’ve been thinking.” The pulsing in his heart picked up a beat, as her words were a mere whisper. Thad wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she was about to say. Yet, his mind told him he needed to listen. Whatever the problem, they could sort it out together.

  “Talk to me, love. What happened last night was genuine, breathtaking, passionate. My love for you is unquenchable. I can’t get enough.” He attempted to raise his arm again. His vision turned into blackness with tiny white specks dancing around. Grinding his teeth, he held back the curse that formed on his lips.

  “I was talking about your injury. Do you suppose the bullet you took could have been intended for me?” Her golden brown eyes lowered to her lap.

  The nightmare only seemed more real when she mentioned the possibility. Yet he couldn’t worry her anymore than she already was. He paused for a moment before he answered.

  “No, that’s not possible. I don’t believe the shooter cared who he hit, just as long as he hit someone. I believe the gaje found us, and now we’ll move farther away. Hopefully undetected by the evil hearts of those who refuse to understand our way of life.” He lifted his good arm and raised her chin to meet his gaze.

  “What if the shooter wasn’t a gaje, but one of us?” Sadness
passed over her face. She knew something, but she was only giving hints as to what she knew. They always kept their minds closed to each other except when they were learning their lessons. Doriya taught them to give each other due respect since they spent so much of their time together in class. They had made a promise to Doriya.

  “Who of the clan do you think would do something this dreadful? Which one would have no principles to harm one of their own? The circumstances to do such a thing would be death or banishment from the clan if they’re caught.” He thought about her words.

  How would she find out of such a devious act when she was here with him until the wee hours of the morning? She had talked to his mother. The strain on her mind was definitely taking its toll. But the look on her face was confirmation she had heard something. Maybe she had misunderstood the meaning of whatever gossip she received.

  “I’m not saying someone from the clan did it. All I’m asking is could it be possible, and do you think the intended victim could have been me and not you?” She let a long sigh.

  “I suppose anything could be possible but not probable. Everyone in the clan welcomes your greetings each morning with open hearts. Greta, there is no reason why any of the members would want to harm you.” He patted his chest. “Rest your head here, upon my chest. Do you hear my heart beating for you? You give me courage and the strength to wake up each morning. You are the very life energizing my soul with your presence. You fill the hearts of others with good cheer. What would make you think someone would want to kill you?”

  She had seen something after she left the vardo. He could feel it deep down inside. Just what was it she knew that she wasn’t telling? Who would fill her mind with such ideas? He tried to recount the positions of the members of the tribe before he joined her around the fire. His mind went blank, for all that mattered to him was to prove his heartfelt love for her. A nagging tugged at him when she rose from the bed.

  “Please stay a while longer.” He was shocked as his voice sounded like a whimpering child.