Behind the Mask (24 page)

“An eye for an eye,” he whispered slyly.

“Then we shall both be blind!” she raged. “You want me? You can have me! I’ll not live like this any longer! Take me and then I’ll have nothing more to fear. Let me give myself to you with some dignity. Perhaps it will pay the price for your having saved my life!”

Cameron just stared at her. His silence humiliated Abbi further, and hot tears filled her eyes. “Take me!” she screamed. “I can bear it no longer!”

Abbi was trembling as Cameron took her shoulders into his hands and kissed her. She had to tip her head back as far as it would go to accommodate his height, but she found his hand there to hold it as his kiss gained fervor.

“Abbi,” he muttered against her lips and kissed her again. For a long moment she became lost in it, eagerly letting it fill something lost and aching inside herself. He eased her fully into his arms, and her enjoyment disintegrated into sudden fear. What had she said?
What was she doing?
How could she be so stupid? Frantically her mind struggled for a way out of this situation that her anger had just gotten her into. She couldn’t possibly allow anything inappropriate to pass between them. She prayed silently for strength and readied herself to run for the door. She pictured where the kitchen knives were kept and imagined defending her virtue with the largest one. She would sleep with it under her pillow for the remainder of winter if she had to.

Cameron felt as surprised by Abbi’s response as he was by his own behavior. The anger of her words profoundly contradicted the abandon in her kiss. He didn’t bother to consider the reasons. Startled by sensations stark and unfamiliar inside of him, he paused to draw back and study the tears in her bewildered eyes.

“No, Abbi,” he murmured and stepped away. She lost her balance but he caught her arms and held her steady, searching her eyes as he added in a whisper, “Not like this.”

Abbi held her breath as he pressed a kiss to her brow then whispered close to her ear, “Forgive me, Abbi. I should have stopped long ago to consider your feelings. We have many weeks of winter still ahead, and I will leave you in peace.” He gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “You owe me nothing.”

Abbi felt stunned by the irrefutable evidence before her that, in spite of his pretenses, Cameron truly was a good man. She wanted nothing more than to reach her hand into his thick, dark hair and kiss him again, but he picked up his cloak and silently left the room. Abbi sat down and cried, feeling lonely, relieved, confused, and in awe. And perhaps even more afraid of her own feelings than she ever had been.

By morning Cameron had fallen back into his normal pattern of silence, except there were no lusty glances or sharp words. He didn’t speak much, but when he did his tone was kind. With his courtesy, Abbi gained more confidence in trying to converse with him. And one evening as they were finishing dinner she said, “How’s my horse?”

She’d requested previously that he let her go out and care for Blaze herself, but he’d insisted the snow was too deep and he didn’t want her getting hurt.

“He told me he misses you, but other than that he’s fine.”

Abbi couldn’t help smiling at his humor, even though he said it with complete seriousness. “I assume,” she followed his example, “that you must spend a significant amount of time together, all those hours you’re out of the house every day. Are the two of you out there playing cards, dice? What is it?” He smirked but didn’t answer and she added, “Or do you just chat about the weather?”

“You would likely be appalled if I admitted how much I talk to animals. I’d like to think they’ve helped keep me sane, but maybe it’s insane to talk to them. Although they make very good listeners, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, loving such moments when he was open and real. “Blaze knows my deepest secrets. I just hope he doesn’t go blabbing them to you.” He smiled and she added, “Maybe we’re both insane.”

“Maybe,” he said as if he liked that idea.

Not wanting the conversation to end, Abbi added, “What
do
you do while you’re outside?”

“Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a look she’d learned well from her grandfather and Georg, not to mention the captain and the duke. Men liked to talk about what they do. “My first concern is for the animals. They have to be fed, of course. The horses must be groomed and exercised; the cow milked; the chickens—”

“You have chickens?” she asked with a little laugh. “And a cow?”

He leaned over the table. “Where exactly did you think the milk and eggs came from, Abbi girl?”

Abbi felt a little stupid. “I just . . . never thought about it.” She smiled. “You must be churning butter and making cheese as well.”

“When I have to. I’ve a mind to let you do it next time.”

“I would be happy to try,” she said, then motioned for him to continue. “You were saying . . .?”

“Well, I have to hunt now and then to keep food on the table, along with other odd jobs, like keeping the buildings in good repair and chopping wood. It’s hard work to survive up here.”

“You’ve got enough wood there for three winters,” she teased.

He smiled at her. “I like to chop wood. It eases my frustrations.”

“So that’s it. I’ve wondered, you know.”

“You have?” There was a hopeful tone in his voice, which for some reason unsettled Abbi and she looked away.

Cameron cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Tomorrow is Christmas, Abbi. I’m sorry you have to spend it with me.”

“Sorry?” she asked. “Why?”

“Wouldn’t you rather be home with your family, having a real celebration?”

“If I were home, I’d only miss Papa. He died last summer.”

“Your father?”

“No,” she said sadly, “my grandfather. He was one of the few people who meant anything at all to me. I guess you could say he was at the top of the list.”

“Who else is on the list?” he asked, and she felt warmed to see his genuine curiosity. There had been a time when he hadn’t even wanted to know her name.

“Well,” she said, “there’s my father, but I only saw him once a month. And there’s the man who cares for our horses; he’s a dear friend. Actually he does a lot more than that. Since Papa died, he keeps many things under control. Other than that, there are only my mother’s aunts, who were summoned from England to look after me when Papa died. They’re nice enough, but I could live without them. And then there’s . . .” She paused and looked at him warily.

“Who?” He gave a baffled chuckle.

“There’s Elsa,” she added.

“Elsa?”

“My lady’s maid,” she admitted and he smiled.

Cameron watched her become thoughtfully distant, and he wondered if there was someone else she missed—someone she loved. “And those are the only people your Christmas would consist of at home?” he asked.

“That’s it.”

He decided to come right out and ask. “You didn’t leave any broken hearts behind when you got lost in the blizzard?”

“I seriously doubt that.” She laughed. “My aunt had a prospect in mind for me, and . . . I believe he was interested, but I hardly knew him, and . . .” She looked up at Cameron, wanting to say that her feelings for Lance came nowhere near what she felt for him. But she simply finished by saying, “I felt nothing for him.”

“And your grandfather?” he continued. “If he were alive you’d be wanting to go home, I’d bet.”

“Yes,” she said, “I must admit. But he’s not.”

Abbi reminisced about her grandfather for several minutes, aware of Cameron watching her closely. When she stopped talking, his gaze became inquisitive. “What?” she asked.

“I was just wondering what kind of man he is.”

“My grandfather?”

“No, the man your aunt wants you to marry.”

Abbi looked away uncomfortably. “It’s irrelevant. As I said, I felt nothing for him beyond a certain respect.”

“But you said he was interested in you.” He smiled playfully. “Tell me what kind of man courts a fiery-haired sorceress.”

Abbi laughed softly. “I would hardly call it courting. He’s far too busy with his duties to pay me much attention.”

“Duties?” Cameron laughed as well. “So, he’s a working man, then? Perhaps he hopes that marrying a lady such as yourself will elevate his standard of living, or—”

“I seriously doubt it,” Abbi interrupted, not liking the path of this conversation. “I daresay he has plenty of status on his own, and all of the prestige he can handle. Being Captain of the Guard is nothing to sniff at, although I . . .” Abbi stopped when Cameron looked as if he’d stopped breathing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and he abruptly squeezed his eyes closed. “Cameron, are you—”

“Forgive me, Abbi. I’m just . . . surprised.” He gained his composure quickly, then laughed again. But it had a phony edge to it. “You’re talking about Lance Dukerk.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, her nerves bristling. “You obviously know him. Do you not like him, or—”

“Oh, it’s not that. Captain Dukerk is a fine man; at least he was the last time I saw him. We had our differences, but I’ve no grudge against him. It’s just that . . . I’m not certain the feeling is mutual.”

“What do you mean?”

“Abbi,” Cameron leaned farther over the table, “I am a wanted man. He is the Captain of the Guard.” He took her hand and his eyes filled with urgency. “Please, Abbi, tell me that you kept your promise. And don’t lie to me.”

“I would never lie to you or anyone else.”

“Did you keep your promise, Abbi? Did you tell anyone about me? Anyone at all?”

“No, of course not,” she insisted. “And if I had, it would not have been Lance. There was nothing between us.”

Cameron sighed audibly. “Then there’s nothing to worry about.” He smiled, seeming more relaxed. “It must be the good captain who has enjoyed the pleasure of your kisses in the past, eh?”

Abbi hurried to say, “I’m really not enjoying this conversation. Could we talk about something else?”

“Of course.” Cameron leaned back. “I believe you were telling me about your grandfather.”

Within a minute Abbi was talking freely again, and Cameron listened with growing pleasure. He was amazed to realize that Abbi was heiress to a considerable estate. While he wasn’t surprised, considering her overall character and refinement, he found it an intriguing contrast to the way she dressed in calico and wore her hair so unruly. But he liked that about her—and so many other things. When she stopped talking, her eyes became distant.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I was just wondering what Georg is doing now,” she said.

“Who?”

“Georg Heinrich, who works on the estate; and he’s a dear friend. I’ve mentioned him. I would bet he misses me most of anyone I left behind.”

Cameron managed to cover his surprise much better this time. While his mind was spinning with the reality of this woman’s connections, he said with no expression, “So, your grandfather, the man you speak so highly of, would be Josef Albrecht.”

“You knew him?” She was clearly pleased.

“Rather knew of him. I purchased my horses from him through recommendation of a friend of mine.” He smiled. “That would be Georg Heinrich.”

“You know Georg, too?” She leaned forward happily.

Cameron nodded sadly. “He must be very worried about you.”

“I suspect he is. But there’s not a lot to be done about that.”

Again Abbi became lost in her thoughts, and Cameron relished the opportunity to watch her. He had to take her in all over again, as if he’d never seen her before, while something deep and long-buried inside of him sparked to life. Their connections were far too astounding to be called happenstance.

“Abbi,” Cameron said as if he were going to give her bad news.

“Yes?” she asked, her green eyes wide with perfect innocence.

When he didn’t answer, her gaze filled with expectancy. But as his thoughts found their way to his heart, they settled into him with emotions so startling he couldn’t find voice enough to say anything beyond, “Excuse me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

Cameron hurried outside, taking no time to even grab his cloak to ward off the cold. He ran to the stable as if his emotions might catch up and smother him. Once inside he leaned against the wall, suddenly weak. Memories collided with recent discoveries, like some kind of viscous sword-fight clanging around in his mind until the internal struggle forced him to his knees with a guttural moan. There was so much to think about that he didn’t even know where to begin to sort it through. It was easy to push away aspects of his circumstances that were too painful or frightening to look at. But there was one thing he couldn’t ignore. As far as he could see, there were only two possibilities that might explain Abbi’s presence in his life. Either she was some kind of bewitching vixen who had magically cast some adverse spell on him, or she was tangible proof that God had not abandoned him, after all. By no stretch could Abbi’s presence be evil to any degree. But if he searched the deepest part of himself, he had to acknowledge that God’s hand was in his life. Especially now. And if God was mindful enough of him to bring Abbi into his life, what would be required of him in return? The very idea was so formidable that he couldn’t even look at it.

“Please, help me understand,” he prayed aloud.

Cameron sat down hard on the ground and lost track of the time as he sorted through the present situation. There were many months left until the snow would thaw enough for Abbi to go home. He didn’t have to make sense of it all in this moment. But he did have to acknowledge that there was something far bigger happening here than he ever would have comprehended. And he had to respect Abbi for being a part of it—whatever it was.

“Are you all right?” Abbi’s voice startled him and he looked up at her, his heart pounding. She wore his cloak, which was significantly longer than she was tall.

“Yes.” He sighed and came to his feet. “Forgive me for walking out like that. I . . . just needed to be alone for a few minutes.”

Abbi looked into his face, sensing an honesty and openness about him that she’d never seen so completely before. “Was it something I said?” she asked.

“Yes . . . I mean, no.” He laughed softly. “I mean . . .”