by Sarah Price
Ashamed of himself for displaying such emotion, he tried to blink back the proud tears in his eyes. He had to be strong, a father figure. He had to be the Rom Baro. “You will learn different than your mother. I will not allow you to roam so free among us.” But deep down, he knew better. Surely if he could not stand firm for Sahara, he would bend for his own daughter. “You will be a beauty, yes? With Sahara's coal eyes and hair? Perhaps you will inherit the wild streak, yes?” He laughed to himself, feeling deliriously alive. Sahara and I made this tiny, defenseless creature, he thought. Once again, Nicolae glanced at Sahara, satisfied that she was only sleeping.
Still holding Lea in his arms, Nicolae walked toward the tent flap. Kicking it open, Nicolae stepped outside. The crowd waited silently, already aware that the child had been born. Their eyes grew larger when they saw their new Rom Baro protectively cradling the newborn in his massive arms. Certainly if he could cradle that baby and protect it, he could protect them. They waited for Nicolae to make the announcement. Was the baby their
future Rom Baro? Would the child one day lead their children? Everyone seemed to hold their breath, watching the new father with an anticipated joy that had not been felt since Emilian had been born more than twenty-five years prior. Slowly, Nicolae tore his eyes away from his beautiful daughter and stared into the crowd. Their eyes met his, waiting and wondering.
With a smile, Nicolae lifted his chin and spoke, “Not only am I new Rom Baro but I am a new father, yes?” Several people chuckled but most waited silently. Duda stood to the side, treasuring the secret for just a few more seconds. “S'hara is fine. My gratitude to Duda. I must now introduce to you my new daughter, Lea.” He carefully lifted the bundled baby into the air for everyone to see. When Nicolae lowered the baby again, Duda stepped forward and took Lea from him. He watched her disappear into the tent.
Turning back to his people, Nicolae raised his arm. “Tonight will be a slava like no other, yes?”
Most of the men cheered, hurrying toward the fires to grab their bottles of rakiya while the musicians began to play their music. It wasn't long before couples danced around the fires, stamping their feet and trilling their tongues. Empty bottles were smashed into the fires. The music roared louder, exciting everyone. The tension from the past few days had lifted. The mourning party had turned into a celebration as Nicolae had promised. O Del had taken one life but blessed them all with a new one.
Nicolae was almost fifteen when his father encouraged him to wed. Emilian was furious, knowing that his father still blamed him for Amaya’s disappearance. “But what about me?” he asked, confronting his father. “I am the eldest son. I am the future Rom Baro. I should wed first!”
The Rom Baro turned a tired eye to look at his son. It had been a long five years. He had settled into a plutonic relationship with Duda, the older sister of his deceased wife. After all, he needed someone to help with his children and to prepare his meals. But his heart had never healed from the loss of the woman he had loved. “You scared away your bride, Emilian,” he replied. “I will not look for another to take her place.”
Emilian glared, his eyes dark and angry. “She left on her own, that crazy Amaya! She is the one. She took my bride. I must be released from that betrothal, Father. No one will ever marry me until you release me!”
The Rom Baro laughed. But there was no joy in the sound. Instead, it was a pained laughter of one who delighted in having company while in misery. “Ah, Emilian. We reap what we sow, my son. No one will ever say that the Rom Baro did not stand by his word. Until you learn of her marriage to another or death by the hand of O Del, you will not be released from that promise.” He lowered his voice. “We suffer the same fate, do we not? I just must believe that your punishment is worthy enough of your crime.”
It was the only time that the Rom Baro had hinted at Emilian’s hand behind Amaya’s disappearance. For years, he had hidden his emotion behind a mask of stoic solitude. His son had chased off the woman he loved by mistreating the child-bride. Now, he was never to wed, a retaliatory plan by his father to punish him for his cruelty. Emilian stared at his father, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had recognized the vindictive nature of the man who stood before him. But now, at last, he knew the depth of his father’s despair when Amaya had left. An old wound that never heals is left to fester in many more ways than one.
Chapter Twenty Two
The nightly slavas bored Sahara. The entire camp celebrated from the moment they awoke until night fell. The music, the dancing, the drinking. No matter how hard Sahara tried to sleep at night, the noise kept her awake. She had spoken to Nicolae several times about moving out of their new wagon and back into their old tent, somewhere further away from the center of entertainment but he would hear nothing of it. The Rom Baro's wagon always stayed where everyone could find it, he'd say as he took Lea from her, cooing over his daughter's beauty or her smiles. Frustrated, Sahara could only watch as her husband drifted further away from her.
His new position as Rom Baro occupied most of his free time. Occasionally, he would round up a couple men for a day trip to a nearby town. They would leave with horses and return with gold. Their spirits were always high after these excursions, raising Sahara's curiosity about what else happened when they left camp. Constantly people came to Sahara and Nicolae's wagon, often to settle disputes between families over what Sahara thought trivial annoyances. To her disbelief, Nicolae would leave her side to solve the problems, no matter what time of day or night they had been interrupted.
During the weeks following Lea's birth, Sahara had noticed with mild interest that Emilian's horse was at the camp more often. To her relief, Emilian never came to visit her. Several times, Sahara caught herself staring into the drunken crowds of gypsies, wondering if Emilian was out there with one of the less reputable gypsy girls. At other times, Sahara wondered if Nicolae was finding happiness with one of those girls, too. At night, he was too tired to pay any notice to his wife. On the nights that he wasn't exhausted, he sat around the campfires, watching the dancing and drinking until the sun was ready to rise.
Sahara had grown used to the loneliness she felt in her heart. Some evenings, Sahara sat on the wagon steps, rocking Lea in her arms while watching the gypsies and listening to the flamboyant music. No longer did the music stir her blood. Instead, each day, Sahara began to realize with more and more loathing that she missed Nicolae's attention. Since Lea had been born, he had hardly spoken to her beyond an occasional question or order. She almost hated the gypsies. She hated the dancing and drinking. But most of all, she felt as though she hated Nicolae. She sat on the wagon steps, gently rocking Lea back and forth as she brooded over her building anger. The loud music pounded in her head, aggravating her more than usual. Some of the men, including Nicolae, had left earlier that day. It hurt Sahara that Nicolae hadn't informed her of his destination or when he would return. Sahara had straightened the wagon, played with the baby, and walked around the camp, waiting anxiously for Nicolae to come home. As the hours passed, her anxiety turned to anger and
she began to hate him and her life all over again. Now, the sun started to set. Shadows danced around the camp, almost in time to the music. Sahara drifted into a gaze, watching the shadow of the wagon shrink in the dying sunlight of yet another day.
“S'hara!”
She looked up at the sudden sound of her name. Clutching Lea closer to her breast, Sahara met the angry gaze of Nicolae as he approached her. “Nicolae, when did you return?” She tried to hide the sarcasm from her voice but as always, she worried that he might recognize it.
What would he do if he knew how she truly felt about him? Would he take Lea away from her? Ban her from the tribe? These thoughts always raced through her mind whenever Nicolae was angry with her.
“You chose not to greet the men with the other women, no?”
With a forced smile and a feigned innocent blink of the eyes, Sahara tried to sound remorsef
ul. “I hadn't realized it was so late. Nor did I hear the horses return, Nicolae. I apologize.”
Nicolae stared down at his wife as she held their daughter. Perhaps she wasn't a good wife, he thought, but no one could argue that she was a good mother. His heart warmed as he watched Sahara rocking Lea. Indeed, he had been hard on Sahara recently. His father's death had given him new responsibilities toward the kumpania. His time had been preoccupied with other problems, time he had taken away from his wife. He was sure Sahara would hold that against him, as well as the six week mahrime placed on new mothers. But that was custom, something even he could do nothing about. “You are good to our daughter, S'hara.”
The compliment surprised her. It had been a long time since he had recognized anything about her beside her faults. “There is little else for me to do all day.” She hid the bitterness in her voice.
Nicolae kneeled in front of her, reaching up to caress her cheek. His touch sent hated chills up her spine. How long had it been since he had touched her? Paid attention to her? Eight months? “S'hara, I was planning on giving this to you in front of the kumpania but since you were not there, I will give it to you here, alone, yes?” He didn't wait for her response as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I bought this for you. In a store.” He said this proudly as if she should be impressed it hadn't been stolen or cheated away from its owner. “Open it, S'hara.”
Her first impulse was to throw it at him. She wanted to yell. Tell him no present could make up for the past months of misery he had put her through. Instead, she sighed and shifted Lea in her arms so she had a free hand to take the box from him. “It was thoughtful of you to think of me while you were in town.”
“I think of you often.”
She ignored his last comment and opened the box. It took all of her self-control not to gasp. The gold nugget ring with the heart shaped diamond centered in the middle could have taken her breath away. Sahara took the ring out of the box and slid it on her ring finger. Unemotionally, she said, “It's beautiful, Nicolae.” Politely, Sahara leaned down to kiss Nicolae's cheek. Nicolae caught her off guard by gently taking a hold of her shoulders and kissing her lips. Then Sahara caught Nicolae off guard for when he let go of her, he felt her palm against his cheek. Losing his balance from where he knelt, Nicolae fell to the ground. Startled by her reaction, he questioned her action with a confused look. The fire burned in her eyes. “How dare you steal a kiss from me!” She stood up and stomped up the remaining steps into the wagon.
Still confused, Nicolae rubbed his stinging cheek before getting to his feet. Cautiously, he followed Sahara into their wagon and stood in the doorway, watching Sahara lay Lea in the crib he had built for his first-born. When Sahara finally turned around, Nicolae frowned his disapproval. “Is it a sin for a man to kiss his bori?”
Sahara pulled at the ring Nicolae had just given her. Angrily, she threw it at him. “Take your bribe! No man will win my love by giving me presents like...like a cheap whore!”
Catching the expensive gift, Nicolae lunged at her. He wrapped his arm around her neck as he grabbed her hand. “You will wear this, S'hara, and I will hear none of your mouth!” His strength overpowered her anger and the ring was returned to her finger.
Their scuffle woke Lea and she stirred in her crib, beginning to cry at the loud noises. Sahara momentarily forgot her argument with Nicolae as she broke free from his grasp and knelt by Lea's crib. Softly, she soothed Lea until her crying turned into heavy breathing as she slept. Covering Lea with the patchwork blanket that Duda had made, Sahara glared at Nicolae over her shoulder. “Now are you happy? You scared her!”
Mumbling more to himself, Nicolae shook his head. “How can you be such a good mother and such a rotten...”
“Rotten what?” Standing in front of him, Sahara tried to keep her voice low so as not to disturb the baby anymore. “You ignore me for months because of my pregnancy. Then Lea's born. You still ignore me for every other little problem your damn gypsies have, day in and day out. When you do get time to be with me, you either play with Lea or sleep. Is it no wonder I despise you? Is it no wonder I loathe your touch?” Pushing past him, Sahara started out the door. “Don't judge my actions as a wife until you look at yours as a husband first.”
Nicolae followed her out of the wagon. He reached out and grabbed her arm. As he pulled her around to face him, her black skirt wrapped around his leg. Always, he thought, always she wears the black. Does she consider herself in mourning for her past life or present? “I am a damn good husband to you, S'hara! If you only knew how much, perhaps then you'd appreciate my generosity as far as you are concerned!”
Nastily, she retorted, “You know what they say about people who have to boast their own praise.”
“Why are you so damn hurtful?”
She tried to free her arm from his hold. “Hurt's all I know from you! Let go of my arm.”
“That's not true, S'hara. I have given you love and protection. I have returned you to your people.”
“My people?” She began to laugh, forgetting that he was hurting her arm. “My people? These aren't my people. They're all strangers. Cold, uncaring strangers. I have no people.” She emphasized `people'. “I have no family either except my daughter and that's it!”
“You have me.”
Again, she laughed. “Do I?”
Softly, he said, “Yes.”
She rolled her eyes toward the sky, laughing as she said, “He says yes.” Returning her gaze to Nicolae, she sighed out of disgust for his continual misunderstanding. Softly, the words formed on her lips, “You say I have you? Where were you while I was pregnant? Where were you after Lea was born? When was the last time you held me? Made love to me? I didn't have you then. What makes you so sure I want you now? Now that you decide to crawl back to me, your hands filled with compliments and gifts.” Sahara felt foolish as tears brimmed on the inside of her eyes. She tried to hide them by lowering her head.
Nicolae was quick to jump to his own defense as he took advantage of Sahara's pain. Pulling her into his arms, he smoothed her silky hair as he whispered, “I never meant to hurt you, my bori. ‘Tis the way of the kumpania. Way of the gypsies. I was raised that way and know only the customs.” He understood her hurt.
The misery of the younger women shortly after marriage was not uncommon. He had seen it before. By the time the gypsy women had several children, they usually welcomed the mahrime as a time of peace. As they grew older, being shunned by family and friends bothered few. “Perhaps I was a fool for marrying a gadjo.”
For the first time in months, Sahara warmed to Nicolae. She was upset and he was comforting her the way a husband should. You cannot lose this man, she thought. As long as he is trying, he is a good man at heart. “I am not gadjo!” She was quick to point out her affiliation with the gypsies, the people she had hated for the past weeks.
Nicolae smiled as he recognized the change in her fight. Was she forgiving him? “Ah, yes, my bori. But you are not truly gypsy either. Only by blood.”
“Is that not good enough?”
Nicolae tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. Yes, the sparkle was back. No longer were her black opals dull and empty. They were full of the life he had fallen in love with so long ago. Nicolae almost held his breath as he dared to ask her, “Then you are proud of your heritage, yes?” A smile crossed Nicolae's lips as he traced his finger down the smooth, tanned skin on her cheek. “And you will fight the customs no more?”
“Fight the customs? I will always fight your stupid customs.”
Nicolae slowly lowered his head so his lips lingered inches above hers. “Will you fight me, S'hara?”
Idiot, she thought to herself. He is tricking you into his bed. Rebelliously, she started to move away from him but he would not let her. Her eyes met his, hating herself for falling fool to his words. “Always, as if you are the customs in the flesh.”
His warm breath caressed her skin as he murmured, “I
love you, S'hara.”
“I hate you.” But as her lips met his, she told him different. Her passionate response to his kiss told him the very opposite. Nicolae wished only to hear her speak the truth with words instead of her actions. For the moment, he thought, her kiss is enough.
When he pulled away, he stared down into her face. “You are so beautiful, S'hara.”
A frightened laugh escaped her throat. “You will not wile me to your bed that easily, Rom Baro.” It felt strange to call Nicolae the name she was so used associating with the nasty old man that had been Nicolae's father.
Knowing he had control of her once again, Nicolae pulled her close. “It has been a long time, S'hara.”
Desperately she tried to deny to herself that she wanted him to carry her into the tent and make love to her. She wiggled in his arms, placing her hands on his chest and pushing away. “And will be even longer if you do not let me go at once.” As she struggled in his arms, she realized several people were watching. Some looked happy, as if seeing their Rom Baro fighting with his wife meant things were normal again. “Nicolae, please!”
“Not until you admit that you want me, that you missed me, S'hara.” He met her surprised gaze with a cocky smile. The fight left her as she stared at him. “Admit it, S'hara, and I will let you go.”
His forwardness startled her, indeed. But so did the fact that she did want him and she had missed him. “You are sure of yourself, aren't you?”
