Chapter 2
Arthur Shelby gasped at the sound of a gun shot, coming from the distance.
And suddenly he knew what Thomas had done.
He kicked the car door in frustration and pain, falling to the ground on his knees, and sobbing.
Now he'd lost two brothers. One to the Italian mob, and the other by his own hand.
Arthur didn't know how long he'd stayed there on the ground, staring at his hands as hot tears fell into them. All he knew was he'd been there long enough for the falling snow to gather in inches in his hair and on the shoulders of his tweed coat.
He was the head of the family now. Or at least what was left of his family. Michael and Polly would take their opium and his American wife back to the states to start their own crime family. Even Finn might go. Maybe he should too. What if it really was the future of Shelby company limited? What if Michael was right, no matter how horrible it might seem?
His thoughts were brought to a halt at the sound of galloping horse hooves.
He wiped his eyes and immediately got to his feet, focusing his eyes.
From the fields, as the fog finally started to settle, he saw a black horse approaching.
At the reins was a girl…
And Thomas.
He was frozen where he stood.
The way the girl rode a horse, you'd think she'd been born on one.
The horse ran like a banshee flying out of hell, but stopped just as gracefully beside the car.
Thomas dismounted from the horse first, and as his feet landed on the ground, helped the woman down from the horse.
It was then Arthur noticed they'd both been riding bare-back.
She was a gypsy then. "Who the 'ell is this?" Arthur asked.
Thomas was leading her towards the house as she held his arm. "You're not going to believe me when I tell you," Thomas said simply. "Polly gave me a letter, resigning from the company this morning," Thomas said in a rush, something glistening in his eyes. "But none of that matters now."
Arthur blinked, his head spinning. "Tommy what are you talking about?"
To his brother's shock, Thomas smiled. A genuine, happy smile. "No one is going to America. We're not making opium our main source of income…no one is resigning from the company."
"Why not?" Arthur asked, noticing the woman's bare feet, black with earth.
Thomas chuckled softly. "Because Polly is led by her heart. And once she knows her daughter is alive, she won't be going anywhere."
The older brother heard Thomas' words, at first not understanding.
But then his eyes darting to the woman on his arm, looking at him with a quiet fondness.
"Look at 'er closely, Arthur," Thomas said. "If you really look at 'er…you'll see it too."
But Arthur refused. He shook his head. "Tommy…our cousin is dead."
But Thomas was ignoring him. "She's not going to believe me," Thomas said, "Or you. That'd why we need her to see it for herself. Give her a call, and tell her to meet us at the Lees' camp."
Arthur scoffed. "That's a ways, Tommy. Why can't we just meet her at the Garrison?"
Thomas shook his head. "Trust me, Arthur. Polly won't see it until she sees her in a gypsy camp."
"What you say is true," the woman said, still gently poised on Thomas' arm. "I was dead."
Chills ran up Arthur's spine at the sound of her voice. "I've never 'eard your kind 'o accent before," he said.
She brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. "It's what people from Australia sound like."
Thomas nodded. "That's where Anna Gray was sent, when she was taken away from us."
Arthur took a step back. "Yeah, where she died of Spring Fever and was buried six feet unduh in the ground."
Suddenly, the woman's eyes filled with something nameless, and empty. "Yes," she said darkly. "I was."
She spoke so plainly, so dead pan, it chilled him to the core.
Despite everything logical in him that told him otherwise, he felt it was true. This girl was Anna Gray.
And Anna Gray was back from the dead.
"You wanna take a walking corpse to a gypsy camp? Are you mad, Tommy?!"
But Thomas wasn't having any arguments today. "Make the call, Arthur."
~.~