The Judge and the Gypsy Read Online Free PDF Page B

the forest as they rose. With every mile Rasch seemed more relaxed, and there was a feeling of silent camaraderie building between them. She’d wanted to capture his interest and make him accept her, but it had been accomplished too easily. It didn’t make sense. Instead of feeling pleased, Savannah found herself becoming increasingly uneasy.
    “Where will you camp?” she finally asked.
    “I haven’t decided yet. There are shelters along the trail, but there are usually several people bedding down in each lean-to. I like my privacy, so I usually find a spot in the woods and sleep under the stars. What about you?”
    “I don’t know. But under the stars sounds good to me. Tell me about the trail.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’d like to know, and it pleases me to hear your voice. I told you that I like sounds. Sounds help me know where I am.”
    “Like a physical roadmap?”
    “Physical, yes. And emotional, too, I think. Why, is that a problem for you? Had you rather I not speak?”
    “No,” he admitted, “I think I rather like your voice. I’m not accustomed to having someone around. Usually I come up here alone.”
    “And I’m a distraction that you’d rather not deal with?”
    “Not at all. I’d rather deal with you, but you seem to come close for a second, then just when I’m about to get some kind of fix on you, you move away in some new direction.”
    “I do?” She leaned forward, her bells jingling as she moved.
    “Well, maybe you don’t move, exactly, it’s more that you disintegrate and reassemble in some new place. You’re like a novel of suspense. What seems to be real is in fact not real at all.”
    “A novel of suspense? You mean a horror novel?” She pretended to be seriously put out. “If you must fictionalize me, couldn’t I be a novel of fantasy?”
    “Why?”
    “In fantasy what is real continues to be reed until you believe that it isn’t.”
    “And are you real?” he asked, his deep voice seductive.
    She looked out the window for a moment, catching sight of a hawk curling across the valley below. “I’m real, Crusader. I’m very real.”
    Abruptly Rasch switched on the radio, twisting the dial back and forth as the sound of static chattered in the silence. Sighing resignedly, he gave up and turned it off.
    “I think that you might enjoy camping out onNightshadow Ridge,” he remarked, trying to keep the conversation light.
    She twisted around in her seat, planting her back against the door so that she could study him. She needed to look at him, to ground herself in his reality in order to carry out her own plans. Their conversation was too comfortable, she reflected, too pleasant. Her plan to intrigue and ensnare him appeared to be working, but there was danger in letting herself enjoy his company too much.
    She let her eyes explore the man beside her. Not only was he ruggedly handsome and sensual, beneath the surface there was some inner force that intimidated and confused her.
    Savannah tucked her foot beneath her, watching as Rasch absently rubbed the spot beneath his right ear. His lips narrowed into a frown. She was tempted to reach out and reassure him, but checked herself. She didn’t understand the attraction she felt for the man she’d sworn to punish.
    “Are there ghosts?” she asked, trying to shake off the feeling.
    “On Nightshadow Ridge? Possibly. But they’ve never shown themselves to me. With you along, the forest ranger will probably have to send out a call for ghostbusters if the other campers are going to get any sleep. I have the feeling you attract spirits.”
    Savannah didn’t think the presence of ghosts would keep her awake nearly as much as the presence of the man beside her. By now, any ordinary man would either have bombarded her with questions or opened the truck door and asked her to leave. Horatio Webber seemed to understand, as much as she, that they were engaged in some kind ofpredestined spiritual joining and had better let it play