Behind the Mask (37 page)

“Most of these things were left here a long time ago, by my father perhaps; obviously with the purpose of romantic getaways.” He laughed softly. “Not that I’ve had the need for them.”

“You can’t get any more romantic than this,” she said.

Cameron kissed her quickly, then he lifted out two beautiful wine goblets and handed them to Abbi. While he carefully dug through some linens in search of something, he commented, “The candlesticks I put out on the mantel earlier, and the lace tablecloth . . . they were in here. Ah, here it is,” he said, lifting out a bottle of red wine. “I’d forgotten this was here until I went digging for something else a while back.” He stood up and closed the trunk while Abbi resisted the urge to question him on the contents of the other one. Following him down the stairs, she reminded herself that with time and patience she would eventually know him completely.

“Have a seat,” he said, setting the lamp on the table. “I’ll be right back.”

Within minutes Cameron had laid out a round of dark bread, cheese, jerked meat, and freshly washed apples. While Abbi was slicing an apple, he set the goblets on the table. She watched him open the bottle of wine with a corkscrew before sitting down across from her and pouring it out.

“We must bless it,” she said.

Cameron nodded toward her, listening in awe as she offered a brief, sincere prayer over their meal, just as she always did. He marveled at her humble faith, and his love for her blossomed with fresh admiration. He wondered if he’d ever been happier as they ate together, talking and laughing, feeding each other across the table. He marveled at the joy Abbi had brought into his life. Through her he had found a reason to have dreams, and the determination to do everything in his power to make them come true. Recalling his own state of mind prior to her coming, he could only describe such dramatic changes in his life as miraculous.

“What are you thinking?” Abbi asked, noting Cameron’s distant expression.

Cameron took her hand across the table. “I was only thinking about you; how alive you make me feel.” He stood only long enough to reach over the table and kiss her. “Oh Abbi, you’ve made me so happy. I didn’t think I could ever be happy again.”

“There is much happiness ahead for us,” she said, and he smiled.

When they had eaten their fill, Cameron carried Abbi back up the stairs and made love to her again before they slept contentedly in each other’s arms.

Abbi woke up alone, and for a moment she felt as if she’d merely dreamed all that had happened yesterday. She squinted toward the window where sunlight streamed, in awe of the paths her life had taken. Her eyes had barely adjusted to the light when Cameron came into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Good morning, my love,” Cameron said, pausing a moment to soak in her appearance. He kissed her slowly, touching her face and hair, amazed at the stark contrast of her endless red curls strewn over the white bedding. Abbi sat up and took the cup from him to share his coffee, and he noted how the steam rose to caress her face.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as she took a careful sip then gave it back to him.

Abbi noted that his hands were cold. He’d been outside already, caring for the animals no doubt.

“Very well, and you?”

“Never better.” He smiled, then walked toward the window and looked out. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“How could it not be?” she said, stretching the sleep out of her limbs. “If it were pouring outside, it would still be a beautiful day.”

“Hear, hear,” he said, noting how the snow glistened in the sun. Turning to sit in the window seat, Cameron was once again struck by the reality of how his life had changed. He was surprised to find his thoughts wandering to Gwen. It would be impossible to compare her to Abbi. Gwen had been beautiful in her own way, but Abbi had a graceful, lissome quality that Gwen could have never possessed. Abbi had taught him an entirely new definition of beauty. He couldn’t believe what a fool he had been, taking so long to realize how much he loved her. How could he have made himself so miserable by trying to deny his feelings, when she had already brought him such happiness? Now that he had her, he knew that he would find a way, somehow, to keep her. He returned to sit on the edge of the bed, wanting only to touch her. “Abbi,” he murmured, kissing her face, “I love you dearly.”

“And I love you.” She touched his face in return, smiling impishly. “My husband.”

“My wife.” He smiled, loving the feel of it on his lips. “I will make our marriage official,” he declared with purpose. “I’m not certain when, or how, but I will. I respect the sanctity of marriage. I do not take this lightly.”

“I know.”

“How
do you know, Abbi? Why are you willing to give up so much for my sake? You know nothing of my past or—”

“Your past doesn’t matter, Cameron. Your future belongs to me. But what makes you believe I’m
giving up
anything? Don’t think for a moment that I would make any such decision for the sake of self-sacrifice, or that I would trade peace of mind for peace of conscience. I
love
you, Cameron.”

He breathed in her words but felt compelled to point out, “And what if love is not enough, Abbi? I’ve seen the evils of the world destroy love.”

She touched his face and kissed him. “Not
this
love,” she murmured and kissed him again. Cameron set the coffee on the bedside table and took her into his arms, wondering if he could ever get enough of the way she replenished him, body and soul.

Abbi felt deeply relieved with the evidence in his affection that all they had shared last night had not been a dream. She laughed and wept as he once again guided her through an experience she’d never begun to comprehend. Never in her wildest imaginings could she have fathomed that a man and a woman had been created for such splendor. He became the entire nucleus of her existence, as if every step she’d taken had been leading to these moments, and wherever her life went from here would be influenced by the impact of all they were sharing. She loved this man beyond all comprehension.

Cameron settled his head onto the pillow, exhausted and perfectly content while he explored Abbi’s face with his fingertips. The serenity in her countenance was as brilliant as the love and perfect acceptance in her eyes. The impact she’d had on his life rushed into him like a gust of hot wind, and the tears that resulted caught him off guard. Embarrassed as well as needing her comfort, he pressed his face into Abbi’s hair and wept.

“What is it?” she murmured, holding him close. He just shook his head and cried, unable to get control of his emotion. She simply held him and whispered tender words, as if she fully shared his pain
and
his joy.

Cameron’s next awareness was coming awake alone in the bed. His eyes focused on one of the room’s two windows, where sunlight trickled through the closed curtains. He turned over and his heart quickened to see Abbi standing at the other window, a sheet tucked beneath her arms, encircling her and flowing onto the floor. She looked like a painting, an exquisite composition of rare art that was created to inspire and touch anyone who might have the opportunity to get a glimpse. He wondered what miracle had made it possible for him and him alone to be the man privileged enough to call her his own. She turned to look at him, and the artistic impression of her deepened as her eyes came into view. She was magnificent!

“Are you all right?” she asked and moved to the edge of the bed. Only then did he remember that he’d fallen asleep crying.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just . . . happy.” She sat beside him and he touched her face. Hoping to explain himself he added, “When I first came here . . . I cried every day. I felt as if my life was over. I’d been cheated, betrayed, forced into exile. Then one day the pain just became . . . too much. It was as if something inside of me became determined not to feel anything at all. I stopped crying. And I tried to stop caring whether I lived or died, but I could never bring myself to completely let go. Still, I felt myself drifting closer to the edge of . . . some kind of ghastly cliff . . . some ambiguous edge of sanity . . . of reality.” His voice softened. “And then you came, but . . . I was so terrified that I sent you away.” Again he touched her face. “I am so grateful that you came back.” She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips that clearly expressed her perfect love for him.

Driven by hunger, they went downstairs in search of a very late breakfast. Working together to prepare their meal and put the lodge in order felt so normal that it was difficult for Cameron to believe what had changed between them. Abbi looked more beautiful than ever as she moved around the lodge, humming as she worked. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and couldn’t stop thinking about the intimacy they had shared. There was something wonderful in the way he could watch her doing everyday things, and try to comprehend the full spectrum of what had passed between them. It was like knowing a secret about her that was hidden to the rest of the world. No one could ever know or take away what he had found in Abbi. He finally tore himself away from his enchantment to tend to the animals’ needs that had barely been met earlier. He’d not been in the stable long when Abbi came quietly through the door.

“Hello, my love,” he said to her.

She responded with a kiss and touched his face, as if she had trouble accepting the reality of their relationship, just as he did. Impulsively he pulled off his gloves to touch her in return, wanting his whole life to be like this.

Abbi looked into Cameron’s eyes, more keenly certain than ever that she had stumbled onto her destiny. His fingers smelled of warm leather as they moved over her face, then he thrust them into her hair and combed through it. Blaze snorted as if to say he was waiting for some attention. Abbi laughed and walked away, nuzzling against the stallion while Cameron fed him.

“I have to compete with a horse for your affection, I see,” he said.

“I did fall in love with Blaze first,” she said and he chuckled. “May I help?”

“Not today,” he said. “I’m almost finished.”

Abbi glanced down and saw something that looked out of place in the clean straw. She bent to pick it up just as Cameron lunged to intercept it. But Abbi was quicker and pulled the little crumpled paper into her fist, glaring at him defiantly.

“You seem upset,” she said, gauging his expression. “Is what I have in my hand so threatening?”

Cameron swallowed carefully. She had displayed perfect trust in him. She’d given him her heart and soul, knowing practically nothing about him. There were some things that he absolutely could not tell her, but perhaps displaying his trust on other matters would be more conducive to getting them through the difficulties that lay ahead.

Cameron glanced at her fingers, curled around the message he’d received two days ago. He generally wasn’t so careless, but his mind had been elsewhere. He honestly didn’t remember what it had said exactly, but he did know that his communication with Georg was always done cryptically. Cameron took a step back and held his hands up in a gesture of resignation. He couldn’t help being touched when she said, “If you don’t want me to see this, all you have to do is say so.”

Cameron simply nodded and put his hands behind his back. Abbi took a deep breath as she opened the paper and began to read aloud
.
“ ‘I’m leaving the country for a few days. I’ll let you know when I return.’ ”

So far so good, Cameron thought.

She glanced up briefly then continued
.
“ ‘Witness still available. We can do it.’ ”

Abbi stared at it for a full minute before she looked up. “This is not your handwriting.”

“No, it’s not.”

“This is a message from someone else.”

“Yes, it is.”

Abbi’s heart quickened. “How old is this message?” she asked. “And how did you get it?”

Cameron stared at her silently for a moment, fixing a line in his mind that he could not cross; there was only so much information he dared divulge. “Two days ago,” he said at last.

Abbi recalled the hours he had been out of the lodge, and the change that had come over him during that time. Now she understood.

“And how?” she repeated, wondering how he could possibly get word from anyone if they were as snowed in as he had claimed.

“Carrier pigeons,” he added, motioning toward the birds in their cote.

Abbi smiled. “You can send messages with
those?”

“Tied around their legs,” he stated soberly and waited for her next question, knowing her curiosity was not satisfied.

“Who are you communicating with?”

“The only person who knows I am alive . . . beyond you. He leaves supplies for me in the spring and the fall. I owe him my life many times over.”

As Abbi digested everything she’d just learned, excitement bubbled out of her. “Cameron,” she moved toward him, “this is wonderful. If this is true, then you can be free and come home with me and—”

“Calm down,” Cameron said, taking her by the shoulders. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” she asked, and he wondered how a woman so wise could have the innocence of a child at times.