Free The Gypsy Moon by Gilbert Morris

that had been said, and she still wore the necklace that Madame Jana had given her. She had sometimes thought herself foolish for believing that an old woman, after all these years, would still be praying for her, but somehow she felt sure the old woman had kept her promise.
    Now as they approached, Maria called out, “Zanko, a visitor for you!”
    Gabby glanced around and noted that there were four gaily covered caravans, perhaps the same ones she had seen in England. The camp was busy with women cooking over fires and children playing. Over to one side a young man with coal black hair was playing a fiddle with great energy. In front of him two teenage girls were dancing, their colorful skirts making a splash of color as they whirled and dipped.
    “Welcome to our camp,” Duke Zanko greeted.
    He looked a little older, with a few new lines on his face, but his hair was still dark. He had grown a heavy mustache, but Gabby would have known him anywhere. When he bowed from the waist, she extended her hand, and surprise flashed in his dark eyes. He bent over and kissed her hand with a courtly gesture.
    “You don’t remember me, I think,” Gabby said.
    Zanko released her hand and studied her face carefully. “We have met before?”
    “Many years ago in England. I came to your camp with a young man.”
    His eyes narrowed. “That was a long time ago. I would not have known you.”
    “I would have known you anywhere, Duke, and I still remember Madame Jana.”
    “She is old now, but she has spoken of you many times. I have heard her pray for you. She never forgets.”
    “Could I see her?”
    “Yes, certainly. Come this way. She is not well, you understand.” His face grew sad. “She will take her long journey soon, I think.”
    “She’s dying?”
    “As she says, we are all dying, but her turn may come quicker than others. Come.”
    Zanko stopped before the back of a wagon, where a pair of steps led up to the door. He mounted the stairs and opened the door a few inches. “Madame Jana, are you awake?”
    “Yes, I’m awake.”
    “You have a visitor.”
    Zanko turned and put his hand out to help Gabby up the stairs. She climbed the steps and then ducked and stepped inside. For a moment she could see little in the dimness, but then her eyes adjusted. A lamp attached to the ceiling was burning, throwing its amber light over the woman who lay on a cot on one side of the caravan.
    “I’m sorry to disturb you, Madame Jana, but I—”
    “Sit down and give me your hand.”
    Gabby pulled a three-legged stool forward and extended her hand. As the old woman took it, Gabby studied the familiar ancient face. Jana was wearing a kerchief even in bed, and she seemed very tiny and frail. Her face had a few more wrinkles than it had had years ago, but her eyes were as bright as they had been that first night in the lovers’ grove.
    “I am Gabrielle Winslow. I met you many years—”
    “My daughter, I have prayed for you often.” The voice was as strong as the grip that held Gabby’s hand.
    The old woman reached with her other hand to enclose both of Gabby’s hands between the two of hers while her eyes searched Gabby’s face. She did not speak for a long time, and then she said, “I always knew I would see you again. God had told me so.”
    The enormity of this statement took Gabby’s breath away. She did not know what to say, but she felt the power of this weak old woman who was endued with such spiritual strength. “I have thought of you so many times over the years, and your prayers have been a comfort.”
    Madame Jana smiled. “You have grown into a fine woman. Have you married?”
    “N-no.” Gabby could not understand why the word was so hard to say, and she hastened to say, “But I am promised to one who will be my husband.”
    The woman’s eyes grew darker, and the intensity of her gaze troubled Gabby. This frail woman had a power she could not understand, and the silence that filled the wagon made her feel