Gypsy Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Phantom had stood just minutes ago.
    She’d give anything to have galloped away on the stallion’s silver back. He’d carry her to a haven where they’d be surrounded by black peaks and countless stars. But no. She was still here, facing a guy who smiled while he made fun of her.
    â€œLook,” she said.
    â€œSam, don’t bother. You made a little mistake. Big deal. He’s the one who should apologize.” Jen flashed Nicolas a hostile look, and though Sam appreciated her friend standing up for her, Jen was making things worse.
    For a moment there was silence broken only by the whuffling of horses’ lips over the grass.
    â€œYou think I owe you an apology?” Nicolas asked.
    â€œYes!” Sam and Jen said together.
    Nicolas shrugged. “I was only teasing.”
    â€œYou’re not very good at it,” Jen said, and her sarcasm made all three of them laugh.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Nicolas said, still chuckling. Before he went on, Lace plodded up and nosed his shoulder so hard, he nearly tipped over. “You could have given me that hint a bit earlier,” Nicolas told the horse. Then he looked from Jen to Sam. “If we can start over, I’ll explain.”
    â€œWhy not,” Sam said.
    â€œSure.” Jen didn’t sound convinced, but Nicolas went on.
    â€œMostly, I’m making this journey to discover whatit means to be a gypsy. I’m just a middle-class college kid from Seattle, but my grandparents, who are traditional, old-school gypsies, say that the open road will reveal my heritage to me.”
    Nicolas said the last few words in a dramatic, almost mocking way.
    But , Sam thought, here he is .
    â€œMy grandparents also said that ganjo —non-gypsies, like you,” he said apologetically, “would blame me for stuff like stealing chickens or laundry off clotheslines—”
    Jen gave a snort of disbelief, then said, “Sorry, but that’s ridiculous.”
    Nicolas shrugged.
    â€œSome places, gypsies have bad reputations based on old folktales. Grandfather remembers traveling in a vardo as a little kid and hiding when people came out of their towns to throw rocks and set dogs on the caravan.
    â€œGrandmother told me a man stole his neighbor’s horse and sold it, then blamed the gypsies. Her brother spent a week in jail until they found a witness to what had really happened.
    â€œThey convinced me that some people have these stereotypes….” Nicolas’s voice trailed off. “So, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I kind of misjudged you before you could do it to me. Sorry.”
    Sam thought it was one of the best apologies she’d ever heard.
    â€œWe hang around with cowboys, so we can take a little joshing,” Sam said, even though that wasn’t exactly what Nicolas had done.
    â€œI’m glad,” he said. “I hardly knew I was a gypsy until my grandparents came to live with us a few years ago. I mean, my father runs a car-repair shop and my mom’s the bookkeeper. Neither of them have accents, unless American TV English counts. And even though gypsies are known as Travelers some places, my parents only left England for the U.S. and since then, they’ve stayed put.
    â€œAbout the only gypsy tradition they follow,” Nicolas added, “is when someone in the family gets sick, they descend on him.”
    â€œDescend?” Jen asked.
    â€œOh, yeah. They crowd the hospital room with aunts, stepbrothers, second cousins…”
    â€œThat’s interesting,” Jen said.
    â€œIt’s weird,” Nicolas corrected her. “When one of my uncles was in a motorcycle accident, the doctor had to elbow her way through the crowd and shout to be heard. But my dad told me we were all there to make sure he got the best of care.”
    A cricket chirred through the darkness. Otherwise, the clearing was still. It was getting late, but Sam