Page 38 of Gypsy's Lady
A hand appeared in her peripheral vision, approachingfrom the opposite side of the table. For a moment, she sat and stared at the broad palm and strong fingers with blunt, short nails. The fingers twitchedandshe glanced up to see Tugboat’s gaze on her, worry lines furrowing his forehead. He didn’t say anything, just kept the offer of support on the table between them. She dropped her gaze and stared at his hand. Almost against her will, she foundher hand creeping across the table to rest in his. Rough fingers closed around hers and gave a brief but tight squeeze, the action evoking a good memory already close to the surface from her dream.
One squeeze of Tugboat’s hand had her feeling as safe as Gypsy’s arms, and she knew this man would never let anyone hurt her. It was a struggle, but she brought her racing breath under control, tryingto find the tranquility inside her. Gypsy leaned close, heat from his body so familiar now she always missed it when he wasn’t near. His arm slipped around her shoulders and with a hand to the side of her head, tipped her cheek to his chest.
“Darlin’.” The single word carried a weight of concern and care, and she sagged against him, knowing he would catch her.
“I-I’m sorry.”I ruin everything.
Tugboat released her hand after giving her a final squeeze. Eyes closed, she listened tohimrising from the chair. “Gonna get her a warmup.” Her cup clinked against the edge of her plate. “Take a minute, Gypsy. Take care of our girl.” She sucked in a hard breath at his words of claiming, and hiccupped as she tried to stifle a sob.
“So,” Gypsy began talking, his voice softer than she’d heardit in a while. “You had a good dream? Wanna tell me about it?”
“I-I.” She stopped, trying to force her tongue to do what she wanted. “I did.”Finally. “I dreamed aboutmuh-my—”Darn it. “My brother.”
Gypsy grew still, but his voice remained soft, coaxing the story out of her. “Your brother? That’s a good memory, huh?”
Shenodded,the fabric of his shirt slick under her cheek. It was weird,having her hand stretched out on the empty table without Tugboat’s to anchor her, so she brought it back and rested it in her lap. Gypsy touched the back of her hand, one finger tracing down the length of her finger and back up, drawing a small circle on her wrist before traveling back down, and up. Down and up.
“A good memory.” Eyes still closed, she listened to Tugboat futzing around in thekitchen and loved him so much for giving her and Gypsy these moments alone.We’re alone a lot, but this is different. Normally Gypsy would try to pull the stories about Baxter out of her, confident in his belief that if she stifled thosememoriesthey’d build up a sick pool in her head that would drown her. This was so good in contrast, she felt light as air for a moment. Like a silly fifteen-year-oldagain. “He went into the military when I wasyounger. Oh, Gypsy, I missed him so. Before he joined the service, times were not bad. Mum had divorced my dad, but we were still okay then. He joined, and the minute he was out of the country, she walked away, and I went into fosters. I used to dream he’d come home and bring back prezzies and trinkets from his journeys, and I’d get to sit beside him.I’d make up these great stories of what he and I would do together.” She sighed, nestling closer to Gypsy. “He’s older, obviously, but he was a good big brother to me. I loved him so much.”
“Loved? Did something happen?”
Darker memories threatened. There’d been shouting matches betweenhermum and brother, never-ending fights which left her feeling helpless. She recalled the sounds and sightsof breaking crockery and raised fists, followed by the clearing out of Alan’s things. His absence had fractured her soul so deeply, she wanted to curl in on herself right now just remembering it. “My ’rents had split. His dad was dead. He joined.” She shrugged. “After that, things were different. I never saw Alan or my mum after that.”
“Oh, Kels. That’s tough.”
“Wh-when…” She swallowed and clenchedher teeth tightly, mouth slick with spit and bile that welled involuntarily. “Buh-Baxter wanted to ta-try for ransom.” At some point her head had begun shaking back and forth, denying the memories. “Buh-but he laughed and said a girl without family didn’t have a safety net. There was no one to ask, you know? Everyone—” A fully-fledged sob broke from her throat, sounding cracked and fracturedto her ears. “Everyone was gone.” Swallowing hard, she licked her lips. “I-I didn’t have anyone to rescue me.” Tipping her head back, she looked up into Gypsy’s face. “Until you came.”
“The dream you had, it was good, though?” He seemed worriedandshe rushed to reassure him.
“It was.” She blinked tears from her lashes and smiled, and Gypsy’s mouth moved in response, the corners curling up thetiniest bit. “I dreamed he was here with me now, and everything was good.” Shaking her head, she turned to see Tugboat hovering near the door. “Mr. Tugboat, you can come back in. I’m over being mental.” He gave her a grin,andshe looked back up at Gypsy. “It felt soreal,like I could hear him and everything.” His arms tightened and released, and she turned to face the table again, seeing Tugboatsetting down a fresh cup of tea and plate of toast, already cut on the diagonal. “Thank you, Tugboat.”
“You’re always welcome, Miss Kelsey.” His gentle teasing kept the smile on her faceandshe picked up a triangle of toast, biting off a generous piece. “So, Cali? You in, Kels?”
Hearing Gypsy’s nickname for her from Tugboat, she glanced up to see an amused expression on Gypsy’s face. Withoutlooking away, she shifted the bite of toast to the side, tucking it into her cheek as she told both men, “If you two are with me, I’m definitely ready to travel west.” Swallowing, she lifted her cup and sipped at the tea. With a sigh, she asked, “Californiaiswest, right?”
Laughter chased the last of the shadows on Gypsy’s face awayandKelsey experienced a tiny throb of pleasure deep in herbelly.I did that.
After her late breakfast, Kelsey retreated to the bedroom, leaving the two men to talk “business” in the kitchen. On a whim, she picked up her tablet and launched the video chat software she and Nary used. It rang so long she had nearly given up on making the connection, and then the icon changed to a picture of…blackness. “Nary?”
Her imagination gave the darkness texture,some areas seeming more shadowed than others. It was as if the device on the other end of the call was moving. “Nary?”
“Shhhhh.” The voice shushing her was definitely Nary’s, so Kelsey waited. A click, then the screen brightenedandNary’s face appeared. Mirrors and a shower behind her marked the location as in the bathroom. “What’s wrong? Is it almond milk? Are you nut juice?”
What’s wrong?“N-no. Not at all. It’s nothing. I-I wanted to talk to you.”Why did something have to be wrong?
Nary squinted at the camera, her gaze flicking to the corner and then back to Kelsey. “It’s too.”
She waited, but nothing else was forthcomingsoKelsey asked, “Too what?”
“What?” Now Nary looked as confused as Kelsey felt.
“It’s too what?”
Nary laughed, covering her face with one hand as sheshook her head, hair flying all over the place. “It’s 2:00 a.m. you dingleberry. What’s going on?”
“Oh, crap. I didn’t do the maths for the time. I’m sorry, Nary!” Kelsey rolled her eyes at herself. “I wanted to ask you something and didn’t think. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Forgiven. Now ask whatever it is needsasking,so I can get back to bed.”
