Queen of Jastain (18 page)

They never spoke of that day at the falls or what had happened. Avant remained reserved and formal, rarely speaking of anything personal. Abby hid her emotions deep in her heart and tried not to think about them.

Holding Imperial to the trail, she winced as her mind reflected on her training that afternoon. During an exceptionally difficult exercise, her concentration had slipped and a fifty-pound bag of feed fell on her, crushing her chest. Avant rushed over and threw the bag aside. Lifting her to a seated position, he knelt facing her. “Abigail! Are you all right?” He tenderly brushed the hair from her face, looking with concern into her eyes.

Caught off guard by the touch of his hand and his kindness, Abby’s heart softened and all of her feelings flooded back. She nodded, unable to break his gaze then lifted her hand to his cheek.

Seeing the emotion in her face, he looked away. “I am sorry. It was too much weight for you to bear.” His mind closed, and his voice filled with the sympathetic tone he had adopted for times when he couldn’t handle his own emotions.

Rage and rejection thundered in her. She'd stood and stormed to the stables, wincing at the pain in her chest, physical and emotional.

Saddling up Imperial, she pulled the cinch tight.
Why won't he accept his own feelings?
She mounted the faithful horse and took off down the trail to get some breathing room.

Sympathy. He’d looked at her as if she had some schoolgirl crush on the hot professor. “Humph!” She wasn’t alone in her attraction, but she'd play hell ever getting him to admit it. She shook her head and spurred Imperial forward. For him to show sympathy insulted her intelligence and the memory of what they'd shared. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he felt something and one day would have to face it.

At the falls, she dismounted and walked to the landing where Avant had brought her that first time. She sat on the grass. The higher trail seemed preferable today. Typically, she went to the pool’s edge, but she wanted the panorama to ease her tension. The falls changed in beauty with the seasons, and each, though unique, thrilled her senses.

She wished Petra could have come with her. Just as if her wish had been his command, his strong hand was on her shoulder.

“I saw you race off and figured you might want some company.” His easy smile warmed her against the chilly autumn day as he folded next to her.

“I might.”

“So, you want to tell me what happened?”

Petra had become a helpful distraction. But more than that, he'd become one of the best friends she’d ever had. He’d taught her about farming, animals, and the ins and outs of daily life on the fief. Funny and unassuming, he strengthened her confidence and gave her a peace she found nowhere else. They usually ate lunch together, and Abby spent evenings with him in the stables. She could talk to him about anything. Though their friendship was important to her, she always knew he wanted more. She looked into his rich brown eyes, blond wisps of hair blowing across them. Maybe it was time to give him more. She reached up and pushed the unruly strands back and tucked them behind his ear. “You need a haircut.”

His smile fell and desire flared in his eyes with her touch. She dropped her hand with a shock. Her heart pounded, and she gulped. He schooled his need and took her hand, his warm fingers clasping hers. “Tell me what happened.”

“Avant happened.” She pulled her hand from his grasp but scooted closer to him, leaning back against the tree, their shoulders touching. “I’ve tried every seductive trick I know, and he refuses to notice me.” She plucked a blade of dried grass from the ground. “He leaves in the morning before I’m dressed and is only available for our afternoon training sessions that he runs like a freaking boot camp, all military discipline. He always takes dinner in his room or at the military compound. When was the last time he ate at the house with us? Even though I know he…” She stilled and looked over at Petra, staring at her.

“Maybe you should forget those people who aren’t around and look at those who are?”

His words rang in her heart and his gaze never left hers. The crashing sound of the falls filled the silence.

Petra cared for her, maybe more than anyone ever had. He’d listened to her, comforted her, and cheered her on. And he was right. He was here and Avant wasn’t.

* * * *

Lying on her bed, Abby stared at the wooden slated ceiling not really able to sleep. Too cold to go outside, she lounged on her bed until it was time for her afternoon drills with the taskmaster.

Though she bitched about the training, her slim body rippled with defined muscles from the daily exercise. The purity of the food and drink gave her loads of energy, and the fresh air filled her with endorphins. Still, would she ever get back to Dallas? Did she even want to?

The months had passed. At night, Abby dreamt of Avant, and sometimes her dad, but she always woke before the dreams finished. Even now tears threatened.

Winter brought the snow and bitter cold. She spent her days in the parlor reading or playing checkers with Petra. He’d made the board out of a small end table and the checkered pieces from a branch they'd cut at the mill. She soaked half of the pieces in wine so they were a different color. Occasionally Avant joined them, and tension filled the air. But mostly she and Petra sat alone.

She sighed and sat, propping herself up with her bolster. No sleep for her. Pulling her black bag out from under her bed, she dumped the contents, combing through each piece like a graphic novel of what used to be her life. How was her X-terra doing? Probably covered in snow. She eyed her phone. Just to see if it would work, she turned it on and, to her surprise, it lit up. As she scanned the screen, the date caught her attention, December twenty-first. Four days until Christmas!

As a child, her Christmases had been lonely. Her Dad rarely came home for the holiday. Generally pawned off on the housekeeper, Abby could count on one hand how many times her dad had spent Christmas with her, but he always sent presents.

In recent years, she’d spent Christmas at Lyndsea’s house. She attended candlelight services with them on Christmas Eve and spent the night to wake with them on Christmas morning.

Last year, she and Chad spent Christmas with Lyndsea. Chad was adopted by an older couple, and his mother was overbearing and obnoxious. His dad died when he was in high school, and his mom couldn’t stand Abby. The feeling was mutual.

A melancholy smile tinged her lips. She’d always wanted a big family for birthdays and Christmases. Maybe someday. Her heart ached with the vision that flashed in her mind. She might as well put that one away in the
When-Hell-Freezes
file.

She loved the planning, the excitement, and the anticipation of the season…. Her mind spun with a new idea like an SUV on black ice. Quickly she stuffed all of her things back into the bag and put it away. She flew downstairs to find Helean.

A tizzy of excitement filled the next two days. Avant and Petra watched her run around, looking on in what appeared to be wonder and concern. She directed Petra to chop down a fir tree on the edge of the forest, making him drag it back to the house.

Without them knowing, she rode to the village and bought gifts with a trade of the crystal beads on her little black dress.

On Christmas Eve it snowed. A real white Christmas. She hadn't seen many of those in Dallas. Having finished up the last of the treats for the next day, Helean prepared a goose with vegetables and made Christmas pudding. The little lady caught the guys poking their heads in the kitchen and shooed them away. Despite themselves, the men seemed to be getting a little curious to see what all the fuss was about.

Abby gathered them in the parlor where they talked, laughed, and drank spiced cider well into the night. Avant sat silently and watched her. His eyes sparkled with an openness he hadn’t shown in months.

The next morning she banged on their doors. “Get up. Santa has come and left you something.”

Making them come down to the parlor in their nightclothes, she brought blankets to keep them warm while they opened their gifts. She heated the spiced cider and set out the
panas,
which she’d decorated with colored icing Helean had helped her make.

She handed everyone their stocking filled with fruit, nuts and a little wooden toy, and then passed out their gifts. Bouncing in her seat, she rubbed her hands together to watch them open the presents.

Petra untied the bow and tore into the wooden container like a kid. She'd found him a wooden chess set in the village. The pieces were intricately carved, and the board finely made of several inlaid types of wood.

He reached over and pulled her close, squeezing her so tight she couldn't breathe. “Thank you, Abby. I love it.”

She’d played chess as a child and understood the general rules. Apparently, Avant had played quite a bit when he was a boy and promised to teach Petra. They vowed a chess match for later that day with a little side wager having to do with trudging into the snow to gather eggs from the coop.

Helean opened her gift, a knitted shawl in bright jewel tones. Abby was fond of the little woman, and loved to listen to her lighthearted gossip. In the evenings when Helean took the leftover table food out to the animals, she covered herself in an old shawl with holes in it.

Tears came to Helean’s eyes as she wrapped it around her sturdy little shoulders. “My dear, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever received.” She hugged Abby and kissed her on the cheek.

Abby's heart beat wildly, and her breath quickened when she handed the little black box to Avant. He fingered the velvet, turning it over in his hand, and offered up an inquisitive look. Opening the box, he stared at the single earring inside. The others gasped.

Silent for a long moment, he finally said, “Abigail, this is not a gift to be given lightly.”

“No, it isn’t. Someone told me once that it was a kingly gift. The lord of these lands is certainly worthy of such a gift, and I couldn’t think of anything better to express my gratitude. Besides, I still have one. See.” She pulled back her hair to reveal the one in her own ear.

His face was unreadable, but he accepted the gift with grace.

Petra smiled impishly. “And did our Lady Abigail think that she could escape without a gift of her own?”

“What did you do, Petra?” She looked at the others, and they grinned too. Avant strode to the next room. He brought in a large box and a tall stand covered in brown paper with the most pathetic bow she had ever seen.

“Petra, I told you to have Helean make the bow.” Avant squinted as if it hurt his eyes and then laughed as Abby squealed.

“You are the sweetest, most wonderful people in Jastain. I can’t believe you surprised me.”

Petra pulled her to the gifts.

She tore off the lopsided bow. “This is a beautiful bow.” Putting it around her neck, she kissed his cheek then ripped the paper to reveal a full-length mirror. How did they know?

Inside the large box lay a crimson dress with gold embroidery and a necklace of rubies to match. Knowing who had picked that out, she glanced at Avant.

He smiled and gave her a cordial nod.

She hugged all of them.

It was the greatest Christmas. Ever. They ate their meal and a snowball fight commenced in the front yard afterward.

The day would have been perfect if she hadn’t lost the blasted chess match and had to go gather eggs. Trudging through the snow and chicken poop, she vowed to one day return the favor to Avant. Calling him out on a wager would be her life’s ambition. But she doubted she could ever beat him at chess. Poker, maybe.

Abby moped around the drafty house, stuck inside unless she wanted to freeze her ass off with Petra out in the stables. After Christmas, the cold, dreary days lingered like an uninvited party guest. She flopped down on the sofa in the parlor and thumbed through a leather-bound book she'd read at least four times.

Now fairly skilled in the art of her Gift, she could easily move large, heavy items at will. Earlier that morning, she'd practiced by gathering eggs from the chicken coop without having to enter it. When she got really bored, she rearranged the furniture, which always sent Helean into a dither. She giggled as she moved several armoires to different rooms. Moving large items took concentration. Her body seized and muscles spasmed as if she'd physically moved the impossibly heavy items. Not that she needed the extra workout, because Avant had no mercy.

Forcing her outside regardless of the weather, he pushed her to the ends of her endurance. When she collapsed with exhaustion, he yelled and required her to continue. Some days she would’ve strangled him with her bare hands if she could've lifted them. He couldn’t read her thoughts at all anymore, and she regularly said things to him in English that would have gotten her ejected from a baseball game.

Why did she have to do this stupid training? Yes, she'd learned a lot, but under such duress anyone would've. If she was the Chosen One, why didn't she have any clue what to do to help
restore Light to the kingdom
? Avant grasped at straws, trying to make her into his hope for the future. Why couldn’t they just live in peace here at the fief?

Since the holidays, Avant had actually warmed a bit and smiled on occasion, when he wasn’t barking orders. He'd eventually realize she was a hopeless cause in the
Savior of the World
sense. Maybe then he'd finally accept his feelings.
Nah. Probably not even then.

The months passed, and she marveled at her genuinely happy life. The best part of her days were the evenings spent in the parlor. Since Christmas, Avant, and sometimes Helean, joined her and Petra to talk about the day, play a game of checkers or chess. Abby’s skills at chess had advanced almost as much as her Implanting, but she still couldn’t beat Avant. It didn't keep her from trying.

She stared at the board and glanced up at him without moving her head. He tapped his finger on his lips. Shit. That meant his next move was
Check
. She stared harder at the pieces.