Behind the Mask (25 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth D. Michaels

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Medieval, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Buchanan series, #the captain of her heart, #saga, #Anita Stansfield, #Horstberg series, #Romance, #Inspirational, #clean romance

BOOK: Behind the Mask
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He watched her closely as she became distracted by the animals. Without a word she walked past the cow and his own two mares, greeting Blaze with tender words and a gentle caress that he envied. It was the first time she’d seen the animal since she’d come here. Their tender reunion brought back memories of watching them together in the meadow, spurring feelings that were only enhanced by his recent thoughts.

When she seemed satisfied that all was well with Blaze, she moved back toward him, taking his hands into hers. “You must be frozen,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

Cameron looked down at her tiny hands, so warm and delicate in his. Then he looked into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Instead he simply motioned for her to go ahead of him, and he followed her back to the lodge. He was fascinated by the way his cloak billowed around her, but his eye was more drawn to that cascade of red hair hanging over the back of it. Once inside, she took the cloak off and hung it up. She looked at him expectantly, and he knew she was wondering whether he wanted to talk, or if she should let the subject drop.

“Sit down,” he said. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Cameron quickly devised a way to say what he needed to say without giving her information that might put her at risk when she returned to Horstberg. “I . . . uh . . . well, as we were talking about your family . . . something just came to me. It caught me off guard. I mean . . . we’ve been together all these weeks, and I had no idea that . . .”

“What?” she pressed gently when he hesitated.

“You’re Gerhard Albrecht’s daughter.” He said it with a little laugh. He still couldn’t believe it.

“You know my father?”

“Quite well, actually.” He chuckled again. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. There is a striking resemblance.”

Abbi couldn’t help being curious. “How do you know him?”

Cameron looked down, struggling to find a suitable answer. He had no idea how much she knew about her father and his dealings. “We were, uh . . . business associates, you could say . . . in a roundabout way.”

Abbi had no idea what kind of business her father was involved in, but she knew he was in trouble. Perhaps it was the same trouble Cameron was in—whatever that might be.

“And do you like him?” she asked.

“Now that’s a leading question, coming from the man’s daughter.”

“Forgive me,” she said. “I’ve never felt much affection for my father. I know practically nothing about him.”

Cameron sighed, unable to deny some relief from that.

“Through the past few years I’ve seen him only once a month for a few minutes. And before then even more rarely. We’re scarcely acquainted.”

Cameron felt momentarily stunned.
She saw him once a month . . . through the past few years
. He swallowed hard and kept his expression steady. “I see,” he said. “Well, yes, I think a lot of Gerhard. We were good friends.”

Fearing he might erupt with words that were bubbling inside of him, Cameron quickly changed the subject. “Perhaps we should do something special tomorrow,” he said. “For Christmas, I mean.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled. “I don’t care. I just don’t want your Christmas here to be like every other day.”

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” she said.

He just stood up to clear the table.

Christmas day brought sunshine that reflected the snow, filling the lodge with brilliant light. Abbi hummed as she went about her routine, and when Cameron came inside early that afternoon, he seemed affected by her mood.

While Abbi was making her bed, she heard him come up the stairs. She expected him to come into the bedroom, but he paused on the landing. Opening the door just a crack, she could see him kneeling in front of one of the two remaining trunks, searching for something. He apparently found what he was looking for and put it in his pocket, then he closed the trunk just as Abbi opened the door.

“Looking for something?” she asked, and he appeared startled.

“I found it,” he answered.

“What’s in those trunks?” Abbi pressed. She’d wondered each time she’d passed them, and now she took advantage of the opportunity to ask.

“Mostly some things of mine; keepsakes you might say. I trust I don’t need to lock them.”

She understood the implication clearly. He didn’t want her to see what was there.

“I’ll honor your privacy,” she said.

“Thank you.” He smiled and seemed more relaxed. “Now come downstairs. I have something for you.”

“What could you possibly have for me?”

“A Christmas gift,” he said and took her hand, leading her down the stairs. Abbi followed him to the sofa and sat beside him, not knowing what to say. He reached into his pocket and held up what she suspected he’d just found in the trunk.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, noting the finely etched gold bracelet. “But I can’t accept it. It looks so expensive.”

“You
will
accept it,” he ordered, slipping it carefully over her wrist. “And you won’t take it off—ever.”

Abbi nodded, admiring the shine of the gold around her arm, but puzzled by his insistence. “Where did you get it? I know you didn’t run to town yesterday to buy me a Christmas gift.”

Cameron chuckled. “It’s sort of a family heirloom. Please don’t question my motives. I sincerely would like you to have it. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a little guilty but not wanting to be ungracious. She touched his cheek with her fingertips while kissing the other side of his face. “But I have no gift for you.”

Cameron smiled and touched the hand against his face. “That was gift enough.” He looked into her eyes for just a moment, and Abbi wished that he would kiss her. But he only stood and moved toward the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

“I was thinking the animals might like something special for Christmas.” He pulled on his gloves.

“May I come along?” Abbi asked impulsively.

Cameron looked surprised, and Abbi felt certain he would tell her no. But he smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

Abbi moved quickly toward the stairs. “I’ll just get my cloak and . . .”

“No.” Cameron stopped her and threw
his
cloak around her shoulders. “I’ll wear this.” He put on his long coat and opened the door, motioning her outside. Abbi hurried out into the sunlight, certain this would be the most memorable Christmas of her life.

Georg woke to realize it was Christmas morning and pulled the covers over his head with a groan. What point was there in celebrating when a shadow of emptiness hung everywhere he turned? This being the first Christmas without Josef Albrecht was bad enough, but facing this day without Abbi seemed more than he could bear. And the presence of Abbi’s harping aunts did little to ease the situation.

Knowing he was needed in the stables, Georg begrudgingly rose from his bed and went out to face the cold. The day was bright and crisp, but his thoughts could not be forced from Abbi. He believed she was alive, but the weeks without her were beginning to convince him that he might be wrong. He’d felt tempted to come right out and ask Cameron if he might have any knowledge of Abbi’s whereabouts, but he’d felt hesitant to do so without fully understanding why. These days it was difficult to ask Cameron anything through their crude method of communication. Crude as it was, Georg still knew that Cameron was emotionally closed and easily offended. And perhaps Georg had a tiny bit of fear in the belief that if Cameron told him Abbi wasn’t with him, he would have to accept that she was dead. As long as he could believe she was alive, there was
something
to hold on to.

While feeding the horses, Georg was surprised to hear a pigeon fly in and alight on the stall gate. He hadn’t received a message from Cameron in weeks and wondered why one might come today. He didn’t recall ever receiving messages simply for the purpose of holiday greetings. With expectation he took the bird into his hands and untied the tiny paper from around its leg. His heart quickened before he even had it unfolded enough to read,
I have Miss Abbi Albrecht with me. She is safe and well and will return as soon as the thaw allows. Would have let you know sooner, but I only just discovered that she knows you
. And then as a complete surprise to Georg, Cameron added,
Merry Christmas
.

Georg threw back his head and laughed. The day was suddenly joyous. Not only did he have tangible proof that Abbi was alive and well, but he had the first indication in a long time that Cameron had not lost all caring. Through their brief, irregular messages, Georg had felt the changes in Cameron over the years. His friend had become hard and bitter. In spite of the distance between them, it was apparent Cameron had lost all desire to return to a civilized world that had given him little but pain. Georg wondered for a moment what might have softened Cameron, and he read the message again, a grin spreading over his face.
Abbi
. How could a man spend that much time with Abbi and not be softened?

Georg stuffed the little note in his pocket and continued his work, feeling hope he’d not experienced in years. He wondered if Abbi had any idea that her getting lost on the mountain had been the answer to many anguished prayers.

When Georg had finished his chores, he went inside with every intention of provoking this household into a Christmas celebration worthy of the way he felt. While Abbi’s aunts spent the day with Lance and a few of his men who had nowhere to go for Christmas, Georg gathered the servants together and was pleased to see that his mood was rubbing off as they shared Christmas dinner in the kitchen.

It was late before he finally got to his evening chores, and afterwards he returned to the house to find it quiet. Turning down the hallway toward the kitchen, he stopped abruptly, coming upon a scene that riled him. Some imbecile wearing a uniform had pinned Elsa against the wall, unquestionably making a nuisance of himself. Georg only caught intermittent words, but he easily grasped the gist of the conversation. He moved forward quietly in the dim hallway, wanting to hear only enough to justify intruding.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” The officer’s voice was slurred with too much to drink.

“You’ll not get me into your bed with flattery,” Elsa insisted, disgusted and upset. “I am not interested. Get it through your thick skull.”

“You’re being old-fashioned,” he retorted.

“Yes I am,” she said with defiance. “You’ve made your intentions clear, now listen while I make mine. I am not interested. Why don’t you go into town and find someone who’s willing for a price, instead of tormenting servant girls because you think they haven’t got any brains.”

“Come now.” The officer laughed off her resistance and pushed his arm around Elsa’s waist. Georg became tense but held back. “What harm is there in a little affection? It’s not so—”

“Let go of me!” she demanded and the officer laughed again.

“I don’t think the lady is interested,” Georg said, and they both turned toward him in surprise.

The officer backed away and Elsa brushed her hands over her dress. She wanted to get down on her knees and kiss Georg’s feet for his timely intrusion.

“Mind your business,” the officer said with authority and teetered slightly.

“I might advise you the same. I wonder what your captain might think to hear of such behavior,” he said, and the officer turned and walked away. When he’d gone, Georg turned to Elsa. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said, timidly meeting his eyes, “I’m fine. Thank you.” How could she tell him what his efforts meant without sounding trite?

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you or—”

“Oh no,” she said quickly. “I’m very grateful you came when you did.”

Georg tried to determine if Elsa would prefer to be left alone as silence fell between them. She was undoubtedly flustered and distraught, but she didn’t necessarily seem eager to leave. He tried to think of something to say to put her at ease. They had worked in the same household for years now and had shared countless meals when the servants gathered in the kitchen to eat, but with all the times their paths had crossed, Georg couldn’t recall ever saying much to Elsa beyond necessity.

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