A Breath of Scandal Read Free

obscure reason it seemed important to keep this man alive.
    Rondo renewed his efforts and was rewarded when a gush of water spurted from the man’s lungs. He gagged and coughed, but his eyes remained closed and his breathing ragged.
    Lara’s voice was anxious with worry. “Let’s take him to Ramona. She’ll know what to do.”
    “I don’t know why it’s so important to cart a man who probably won’t live out the day up the cliff,” Rondo complained. “He’s a
gadjo
.”
    “Rondo, please. He’s a human being.”
    “You know I can refuse you nothing,” Rondo said as he hefted the man over his shoulder.
    “He’s bleeding!” Lara cried when she saw blood dripping down one limp hand onto the wet sand. “Hurry!”
    Lara led the way up the path, looking back frequently to make sure Rondo followed. They reached the top, and Lara instructed Rondo to take the wounded
gadjo
to her wagon.
    “ ’Tis not right,” Rondo complained. “You’re a maiden.”
    “Just do as I say, Rondo. I’m going for Ramona.”
    Pietro intercepted Lara before she reached the gaily painted wagon her grandparents shared. “What is it, little one?”
    “I found a wounded man on the beach, Grandfather. Rondo carried him to my wagon. I need Grandmother to heal his wounds.”
    “What kind of wounds?”
    “I don’t know. There’s blood, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. Please fetch Grandmother. Tell her to bring her healing tools and herbs.”
    Pietro must have sensed his granddaughter’s urgency, for he hurried off to do her bidding, allowing Lara to hasten back to her wagon.
    “How is he?” she asked as she ducked inside.
    Rondo had finished his cursory inspection of the unconscious man. “He’s seriously wounded, probably shot more than once. Someone wanted him dead … badly. The
gadjo
will bring trouble to us, Lara. ’Tis best we let him die.”
    “What’s this about dying?”
    Ramona ducked inside the wagon, pushing Rondo aside to look at the man lying on her granddaughter’s bed. Her dark face was deeply lined and her hair streaked with gray, yet somehow she appeared ageless. Her ample figure was garbed in clothing every bit as colorful and flamboyant as her granddaughter’s.
    “Who is he?”
    “There’s no identification on him,” Rondo said. “Look at him. The rough clothes and scuffed boots are those of a peasant.”
    “Can you save him, Grandmother?” Lara asked anxiously.
    Ramona’s brown eyes held the wisdom of ages as she looked beyond Lara, to something only she could see.
    “He is
gadjo
,” she intoned dryly.
    “And I am half
gadjo
,” Lara reminded her.
    Brow furrowed, Ramona studied her granddaughter intently, then returned her gaze to the wounded man.
    “I will do what I can. Rondo can remain to help me remove his clothing, but you must leave. You are still an innocent.”
    Lara wanted to object but knew Ramona would fight her on this, so she left the wagon without an argument. She joined Pietro outside. His thick, gray brows were knitted together with worry.
    “Who is he?”
    “We don’t know, Grandfather, but he’s as near death as a man can get.”
    Pietro suddenly looked alarmed. “ ’Tis not good, Lara. I fear this man will bring trouble to our people. What if his enemies come looking for him?”
    “I don’t know,” Lara said, looking down at her dirty toes. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Rondo thinks he’ll die, so that problem will probably never come up.”
    Pietro held out his arms and Lara walked into them. “Why is this man so important to you, little one?”
    Lara had no answer. She bit her lip to keep them from trembling and shook her head, sending a tangle of shiny dark curls cascading over her shoulders.
    “Ah, little one. You are so beautiful, so innocent, yet so filled with life.” He smoothed a wayward curl from her forehead. “You are fiery and untamed, just like your mother. Spirited and impetuous, too, and sometimes I fear for you. I hope