the coffeepot he pushed through the undergrowth to the stream. Maybe an icy bath was a good way to start both their mornings.
But Savannah wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere around the campsite either. The bear! He tore through the brush, looking for signs of a struggle. There were none. Then, taking quiet stock of the situation, he realized that her backpack and camping gear were gone. There was nothing left in the camp to prove she’d ever been there.
Rasch sat down and tried to make sense of what had happened. She was gone. She’d left of her own accord. Quietly, stealthily, she’d slipped out of his arms, packed her supplies, and disappeared into the night. Only the lingering smell of tea olive blossoms kept him from believing that it had all been a dream.
His erotic fantasy was over.
His Gypsy was gone, and he didn’t even know her full name.
The week after the conference Rasch was going through the motions, but nobody knew better than he that his heart was not in his job. His eyes constantly searched the courtroom, hoping that he’d see a laughing dark-eyed nymph in a Gypsy skirt. But she wasn’t there. And there were no tingling nerve endings, no burning sensations on his neck that said he was being watched. At last he was forced to admit that she wasn’t coming back.
“What’s wrong, Rasch?” Jake asked, worry evident in his eyes. They were having dinner in a little restaurant on Peachtree. “You haven’t been the samesince I picked you up on the trail. What happened?”
“I met someone—a woman.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I—I don’t know where she is.”
Jake laid down his fork and widened his eyes. “What do you mean, you don’t know where she is. Did you lose her someplace?”
“You could say that. We were hiking together. For four days we were—together. Then she was gone—just disappeared without a trace. I don’t even know her name.”
“Whoa! You spent four days camping with a woman and you don’t know her name? What was she, a ghost?”
“Something like that.” Rasch hesitated, rolling a piece of bread between his fingers until he’d sprinkled his pasta with the crumbs. “I guess I’d better tell you all of it. The first time I saw Gypsy, she appeared on my patio in a fog, at midnight.”
“On your patio,” Jake repeated, shaking his head. “Rasch, you live in a fourth-floor condo.”
“I know, believe me, I know. It gets better. The second time was at Underground Atlanta, that night I climbed the flagpole to scan the crowd. Remember?”
“Oh, yes, the woman with the ribbons in her hair. So you found her. You don’t have to keep her a secret, Rasch. You know that I’ve thought for some time you’d have a better chance at the governorship if you were married.”
“You don’t understand, Jake. The third time she appeared in the fog beside the road to Amicalola Falls. She was waiting for me.”
“Waiting for you on the road? I don’t think I like this, old buddy. Why?”
All pretense of eating was curtailed. The waiter took away the half-eaten plates of pasta and refilled their coffee cups before Jake motioned him away.
“I’m still not sure. Nothing happened—at least nothing I might have expected.”
“But
something
happened, didn’t it, old friend? She got to you somehow.”
“I guess she did. Then I woke up one morning, and she was gone. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, she’s there—in court, in my bed, in my arms. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Great, here we are ready to start campaigning, and your mind is on some Gypsy girl. This, my friend, is not good.”
Rasch lifted anguished eyes without trying to conceal his feelings from Jake. He’d gone over every word that was said, every moment of their time together, and he hadn’t been able to come up with any answers. “I know.”
“Okay, let’s start with what little information we have. Why’d you call her
But Savannah wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere around the campsite either. The bear! He tore through the brush, looking for signs of a struggle. There were none. Then, taking quiet stock of the situation, he realized that her backpack and camping gear were gone. There was nothing left in the camp to prove she’d ever been there.
Rasch sat down and tried to make sense of what had happened. She was gone. She’d left of her own accord. Quietly, stealthily, she’d slipped out of his arms, packed her supplies, and disappeared into the night. Only the lingering smell of tea olive blossoms kept him from believing that it had all been a dream.
His erotic fantasy was over.
His Gypsy was gone, and he didn’t even know her full name.
The week after the conference Rasch was going through the motions, but nobody knew better than he that his heart was not in his job. His eyes constantly searched the courtroom, hoping that he’d see a laughing dark-eyed nymph in a Gypsy skirt. But she wasn’t there. And there were no tingling nerve endings, no burning sensations on his neck that said he was being watched. At last he was forced to admit that she wasn’t coming back.
“What’s wrong, Rasch?” Jake asked, worry evident in his eyes. They were having dinner in a little restaurant on Peachtree. “You haven’t been the samesince I picked you up on the trail. What happened?”
“I met someone—a woman.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I—I don’t know where she is.”
Jake laid down his fork and widened his eyes. “What do you mean, you don’t know where she is. Did you lose her someplace?”
“You could say that. We were hiking together. For four days we were—together. Then she was gone—just disappeared without a trace. I don’t even know her name.”
“Whoa! You spent four days camping with a woman and you don’t know her name? What was she, a ghost?”
“Something like that.” Rasch hesitated, rolling a piece of bread between his fingers until he’d sprinkled his pasta with the crumbs. “I guess I’d better tell you all of it. The first time I saw Gypsy, she appeared on my patio in a fog, at midnight.”
“On your patio,” Jake repeated, shaking his head. “Rasch, you live in a fourth-floor condo.”
“I know, believe me, I know. It gets better. The second time was at Underground Atlanta, that night I climbed the flagpole to scan the crowd. Remember?”
“Oh, yes, the woman with the ribbons in her hair. So you found her. You don’t have to keep her a secret, Rasch. You know that I’ve thought for some time you’d have a better chance at the governorship if you were married.”
“You don’t understand, Jake. The third time she appeared in the fog beside the road to Amicalola Falls. She was waiting for me.”
“Waiting for you on the road? I don’t think I like this, old buddy. Why?”
All pretense of eating was curtailed. The waiter took away the half-eaten plates of pasta and refilled their coffee cups before Jake motioned him away.
“I’m still not sure. Nothing happened—at least nothing I might have expected.”
“But
something
happened, didn’t it, old friend? She got to you somehow.”
“I guess she did. Then I woke up one morning, and she was gone. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, she’s there—in court, in my bed, in my arms. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Great, here we are ready to start campaigning, and your mind is on some Gypsy girl. This, my friend, is not good.”
Rasch lifted anguished eyes without trying to conceal his feelings from Jake. He’d gone over every word that was said, every moment of their time together, and he hadn’t been able to come up with any answers. “I know.”
“Okay, let’s start with what little information we have. Why’d you call her
Similar Books
