Chapter Six #2
“Mmm.” Again, one of the older woman’s eyebrows rose.
“That depends on what you believe.” The coin vanished into a clever pocket sewn into the front of her gown.
Full, bell-shaped sleeves allowed for air flow and flexibility while Mary regretted the tight sleeves of her pelisse.
“Take off your glove and give me your right hand.”
“All right.” She did as instructed, and then offered her right hand, which Elena took between her own.
“You are strong; you have survived things that would have broken lesser women.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement. “Yet there is a softness to your soul and a yearning in your heart that is newer than those struggles.”
How could the woman possibly know that? As her heartbeat accelerated, Mary stared in fascination. Elena held her hand in one of hers, palm upward. “What are you searching for?” she asked in a whisper as the fortune teller scoured her palm.
“Your truth.” They were both silent for several seconds. “You feel you are losing that which you hold dear above all things.”
“A bit, yes.” With her thoughts firmly on her husband, Mary nodded. “What should I do? I feel as if I’m losing control of everything, and I don’t like all the changes that are lurking for me at every turn.”
“If the seasons didn’t change, how dull our days would be, hmm?
” For a few long moments, Elena studied Mary’s palm, occasionally tracing the lines with a forefinger.
Then, she nodded as if having gotten confirmation from an unseen voice.
“Change doesn’t necessarily mean bad omens. It also brings much good with it.”
“What does that mean?” Mary raised her gaze to the older woman’s. “You told my husband we will face challenges.”
“I did.” A twinkle appeared in the deep brown depths of Elena’s gaze. “But challenges are often turning points or even steppingstones along our path through life.”
“Why must you talk in riddles?” When the fortune teller remained silent, Mary sighed. “What should I do about the rift between the inspector and me? There has been a cooling in our ardor, a distinct pulling away from both of us, and that makes me sad to think our love might be fading.”
“The love is still there, and it is strong. I see it in your palm.” Elena tapped a gentle finger on Mary’s hand. “While you are concerned, he is afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Losing you, disappointing you, failing at everything he is.” The older woman pressed her full lips together. “Yet you feel trapped, almost strangled from the responsibilities you have taken on over the past year or so.”
Did she? Mary put her free hand to her throat. “It is… overwhelming at times, but I wouldn’t trade this life for any other.”
“Are you certain of that?”
After a few moments of silence, Mary nodded. “Yes.”
“However?”
She blew out a breath. “I miss the closeness Bright and I used to have. I miss spending nominal moments daily with him, but now, I feel as if we’re chasing each other and never connecting.”
“The moon continues to chase the sun, but that doesn’t mean either are more important than the other.” A small smile curved Elena’s lips. “Do not fear change, Mrs. Bright. Change is present in every aspect of our lives. It is necessary for growth.”
“Yet what if we are growing apart?”
“Then you will, but that doesn’t mean those paths won’t converge again in the near future.
You believe closeness to your husband requires proximity.
Perhaps, instead, closeness can mean an overall sense of contentment in what you have, in what you both are giving each other as you work toward a common goal.
” Amusement twinkled in her eyes. “Change can usher in better things if you let them unfold naturally.”
“Then basically, I shouldn’t complain about Bright’s absence.” That didn’t seem fair.
“Just as he is afraid, you are too. Yet your fear stems from the belief your union should always be as it was in the beginning. Love ebbs and flows, trust builds and expands. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it is not there, waiting, willing to catch you if you fall.”
The concern hadn’t left her stomach. “Will that love continue with Gabriel?” she asked in a hushed voice as the sounds of revelry swirled all around her.
“I can see nothing else in your palm.” Elena dropped Mary’s hand. “You cannot command the wind, Mrs. Bright, and thus you shouldn’t fear change. Each new season of life brings its own joy.”
“And the challenges you spoke of? What about those?”
“You will meet them as you have all the rest.”
“With Bright?”
“That is not for me to say, but I do foresee a fork in the road for you.” Elena waved her fingers. “Tread smartly, Mrs. Bright. There is much ahead of you that you’ll find amazement in, but you might need to guard your thoughts and heart before that.”
With questions dancing through her head, Mary stood. “Thank you.” With haste, she donned her glove. What had the woman meant by her words? Would something happen to tear her and Gabriel away from each other? Even worse, would something go wrong with the children?
Instead of feeling uplifted from what was supposed to be a bit of fun, another layer of concern wove around her.
Barely had she moved away from Elena’s wagon when she ran into the hard wall of a man’s chest. The bonnet fell from her head and for one instant, the man’s arms went around her to steady her balance.
But she knew immediately who it was, for it had always been him, watching over her, protecting her.
“Gabriel!” She clutched at his elbow. “How clumsy of me.” As she looked upward into his face, she sucked in a breath. While intense consternation blazed in his hazel eyes, so did the same determination he wore like a garment.
“How could I be upset when that misstep put you directly into my arms?” The tenor of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. As he grinned, she couldn’t help but look at his sensual lips. “Was the palm reading fruitful?”
“It was… interesting.” Perhaps it was the poppycock that he’d said, but she couldn’t quite ignore the icy fingers of fear that played her spine.
He retrieved her bonnet, and after he’d given it to her, he put a hand to the small of her back. “Come with me for a moment.”
“Why?” Heat blazed in her cheeks, for without the bonnet’s brim, the sun was unexpectedly warm, but she didn’t wish to don the headgear again.
“Don’t argue.” Before she could utter a word, he tugged on her hand and pulled her inside a stall that stood empty of goods or a vendor. Perhaps the person to whom it belonged hadn’t set up their wares yet. “What are you—”
He cut off her question by taking her into his strong arms and lowering his lips to hers.
As he kissed her without regard to the fact that anyone could walk by the stall and see them, Mary dropped her bonnet so she could twine her hands about his shoulders.
After a few moments of the most tender string of kisses she’d been treated to for many months, he pulled away and searched her gaze with his own.
“No matter what that woman told you, sweeting, you and I are partners, we are equals in every part of life. That will never change even if the foundations we stand upon do.” When he held her head between his gloved palms, a sense of safety and calm came over her.
“We are together for a reason. Everything we’re building is intentional.
We might not know the future, but I can assure you I will be there to match your every step. You have my promise.”
Tears welled in her eyes. Those words reassured her more than anything the fortune teller could have said to her. “Thank you. I believe that as well.” Perhaps that was the one thing she should remember.
“Mrs. Bright! Mrs. Bright!”
The moment was shattered by the sound of a child’s voice. Seconds later, a Romani girl around Cassandra’s age ran into the stall carrying a small willow basket full of brightly colored tulips and daffodils.
“This is for you, Mrs. Bright!”
“What a lovely gift.” She accepted the basket from the girl. “Who are they from?”
The child shrugged. Curiosity shone in her dark eyes. She’d stuck one of the blooms in her black hair. “I was told to give them to you.”
“By whom?” Annoyance wove through Bright’s inquiry, for once again, he was immediately on alert. “A man or a woman?”
“By my mama. They were on a table in our wagon.” With a delicate hand, she gestured in the opposite direction of which they’d come.
“Mama sells lemonade.” Then she grinned wide enough to show she’d recently lost a tooth.
“May Day flowers mean someone is sweet on you, Mrs. Bright. Lucky you.” Then she waved.
“Enjoy your day, and come by Mama’s wagon.
The lemonade is sweet.” Seconds later, she scampered off.
“Bloody, bloody hell,” Bright said on the heels of a growl. “When I find the man who thinks to steal you away from me, I intend to land him a facer. Or worse.” Then he stormed away, leaving Mary alone with the bonnet at her feet and a basket of flowers in her hand.
While it was entertaining to see her husband in a snit of jealousy, it also put knots of worry in her belly. She’d not seen him in such a temper before. Was this a warning of things to come? And if it was, would it usher in one of the changes Elena had foretold?
What am I to do?