Free Traveller by Abigail Drake Page A

to be that person?”
    I didn’t think he would answer me, but he surprised me once again. “Something about you made me want to protect you. Against my better judgment, I might add. The least you could do is to make it a bit easier for me by not doing the most idiotic things possible all the time.”
    That hurt. “Okay. Sorry.”
    Michael gave me a curt nod and then looked at his watch. Mrs. Burke’s shop was only a few doors down. “You have half an hour.”
    Mrs. Burke greeted me at the door to her shop. As soon as she saw me, her face filled with concern.
    “What’s wrong, Emerson?”
    I opened my mouth and then shut it again, not knowing where to start. “I might not be here the next few days. I just wanted to let you know.”
    “Is this about that Traveller?” Mrs. Burke’s normally sweet, soft face turned hard. She grabbed a pot of tea and some shortbread biscuits, and pulled me over to a table in a quiet corner of the shop. “It’s time we had a little talk.”
    Mrs. Burke went to get some teacups just as Leo walked into the shop. His eyes scanned the room, looking for me. I wanted to crawl away and hide, but he saw me and made a beeline for my table. He looked pale.
    “Where were you this morning?”
    My cheeks burned. “I slept in. How are you? You look tired.”
    “I’m fine. I had one pint too many last night, I suppose.” He pointed to the empty seat in front of me. “May I join you?”
    “No.” I shook my head, perhaps a little too vehemently, and he looked hurt. “I’m sorry. I’m having a cup of tea with Mrs. Burke.”
    He shifted back and forth on his feet. “Can we talk later?”
    I nodded as Mrs. Burke came bustling up with the teacups, but I couldn’t quite look at his face. He hesitated only for a moment, and then left the teashop without saying goodbye. Hearing the door slam behind him, I swallowed hard. He turned and stared at me through the window, desire mixing with anger in his eyes. I’d hurt him. Badly. But there was nothing I could do about it.
    “He likes you, you know,” said Mrs. Burke as she poured the tea. “And he’s a great deal better for you than that Traveller.”
    “Why do you hate them so much?”
    “It’s a long story, but one you need to hear.” Mrs. Burke stirred her tea, a faraway expression in her eyes. “I had a sister named Joan. She was only a year older than me, and she was special. She had a personality that just lit up a room, and she was ever so kind.
    “She’d just turned seventeen when she met a Traveller boy. We knew all about Travellers, mind you. We’d been warned about them for years. They were good for nothing scoundrels. Nice girls stayed away from them, but not our Joan. She was in love.”
    “What happened?”
    Mrs. Burke gave me a sad little smile. “What you would expect. Joan fell pregnant, and the boy left. Typical behavior, I suppose, but Joan was distraught. After her little boy was born, she sought out his family. You should have heard the names they called her. They told her they wanted nothing to do with a baby who was not ‘Traveller born.’ They were trash, yet they treated our Joan like she was beneath them. Like she wasn’t worthy of that boy who had used her so terribly. The sad part was she believed them.”
    “What did Joan do?” My tea got cold in front of me, but I couldn’t take a sip. My throat felt like it was closing up.
    “She died, by her own hand, and left her little boy, Andrew, without a mother or any father to speak of.” Mrs. Burke took out a handkerchief from a pocket in her apron and dabbed her eyes. “But that isn’t all.”
    I almost didn’t want to hear anymore, but I had to listen. I sat, as still as a statue, and waited.
    “After Joan died, the father, Denny, came by our house. He wanted to see the baby. I almost didn’t let him, but there was something in his face….” Mrs. Burke shook her head. “He looked like he’d been to hell and back. He told me he’d loved my