Behind the Mask (41 page)

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Abbi asked.

“I’ve done it many times,” he assured her, “and I’m still in one piece.” He kissed her. “Why don’t you come out with me? It’s a beautiful day.”

Abbi followed Cameron out to the stable, where he retrieved a long ladder from where it hung on the outside back wall. Then she followed him to the far side of the lodge.

“There,” he said, putting the ladder in place. “You hold it steady down here so I don’t fall and break my neck.”

“How did you do it alone last time?” she asked, leaning her weight on the ladder to hold it in place as he ascended, shovel in hand.

He laughed. “The dogs helped me.”

Once Cameron was on the roof, Abbi moved back where she could watch him. The roof was steep and slick, and she feared that he might fall as he pushed the snow off into huge piles on the ground. “Be careful,” she called.

“Always,” he hollered back, grinning as if he found her concern amusing.

The sun became so warm that Cameron removed his coat and threw it down to Abbi, who opted to sit on it rather than pick it up. She noticed that where he’d removed the snow, the sun was melting the ice on the roof and it dripped unceasingly. When he was finished, Cameron slid the shovel off the roof and it landed in the snow. Again Abbi feared for his safety as he eased toward the ladder. He looked toward her and smiled, but a moment later he slipped off the roof and landed on his back in the snow.

“Cameron!” she cried, running to his side. She knelt beside him and took his face into her hands, but he made no response. “Cameron!” she shouted, shaking him to try and rouse him. Her efforts were futile and she buried her face against his shoulder and began to cry. Overwhelmed with fear, she wondered what life would ever be without him.
She loved him so much
.

“Please God, don’t let him die,” she prayed aloud. In desperation she shook his face again with her hands. “Cameron! Wake up!” she screamed.

Cameron’s eyes opened dramatically and he grinned. “If you insist,” he muttered before rolling her into the snow, laughing hysterically and stuffing snow down her dress. Abbi screamed protests and tried in vain not to laugh.

When he finally let her go, Abbi stood up and glared at him. “I thought you were
dead!
” She grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at him but he dodged it, laughing harder. “If I weren’t so glad to see you’re not dead, I’d kill you myself.” She threw more snow and missed again. “You
scoundrel!
You
rogue!
” Cameron laughed harder until she scooped both hands full of snow, ran toward him, and pressed it into his face.

Cameron continued to laugh while he spit the snow out of his mouth. Abbi sauntered triumphantly into the lodge, declaring, “Not so clever after all, are you.”

Abbi didn’t talk to Cameron until they sat down to eat dinner, and he had to make faces at her and get her to laugh before she said a word. She finally agreed to forgive him just before they crawled into bed. Holding her in his arms, Cameron fell asleep quickly. His next awareness was his name being cried out in anguish, and he came awake with a start. Abbi was sitting up stiffly, her eyes wide with fear.

“Abbi!” He took her in his arms and looked directly into her face. “Abbi, it’s all right.” She nodded but said nothing. “Same dream?” he questioned.

She seemed startled as she shook her head. “No,” she said weakly, “this was different.”

“Tell me about it,” he urged gently as they lay back down.

“It was like when you fell off the roof. You were lying on the ground . . . no, it was a floor. We were inside somewhere. It was like a long hallway. I tried to get you to wake up. I begged you to answer me. Georg was there, kneeling beside you as well. But it wasn’t Georg, really; it looked like Georg, but it wasn’t. I was sure you were teasing me, but gradually I realized that you weren’t. I kept crying out for you . . . and then I woke up.” Abbi nuzzled closer to him. “Please don’t die and leave me alone, Cameron. Promise me.”

It took Cameron a minute to answer. “Abbi, I can’t promise I won’t die. Some things are out of our control. I can only be careful and trust that God will keep me safe.”

“Be careful,” she emphasized. “Whatever it is you have to do to get beyond this, promise me you will be careful.”

“I promise,” he whispered, but Abbi didn’t feel convinced.

Chapter Twelve

RETURN

“I
feel like riding,” Abbi said impulsively after lunch. The April morning was bright and clear. “The snow should have melted enough for Blaze to handle it, don’t you think?”

“I would certainly think so,” Cameron said.

She giggled. “Blaze can handle both of us. Let’s do it.”

“I’m ready.” He rose and took her hand. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’ll go wherever you take me.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I know the perfect spot.”

It almost felt like home to Abbi as she helped Cameron saddle Blaze. She straddled to mount and adjusted her skirt around her legs. He smiled wryly and mounted behind her, holding the reins in his left hand and resting the other on her leg. They rode slowly up the mountainside, taking time to enjoy the scenery, and Abbi sensed that Blaze enjoyed being ridden again after all these months. Leaning back against Cameron’s chest, she tingled from his nearness as well as the love between them. Lost in thought, she was surprised when Cameron pulled the reins to stop Blaze and said, “We’re here. Look.” He pointed downward, and Abbi caught her breath to see the entire valley of Horstberg. The outline of the estates could be seen, and Abbi could determine where her own home was. Everything looked so small. Even the castle didn’t appear at all ominous.

“It’s so beautiful,” she sighed.

“And it looks so peaceful from up here.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Oh, yes. I do love Horstberg.”

“So do I,” Abbi said.

They were both silent for a moment, then Cameron started Blaze back down the mountain.

“Abbi,” he said tenderly.

“Yes, my love?”

“Do you believe in destiny?”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that somehow, one way or another, you and I would have ended up together.”

“Yes,” she said emphatically, “I do.”

“You know,” he continued, “your father spoke of you often.”

“He did?” She was surprised. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me over and over about his fiery-haired little girl with a temperament to match. Green eyes that could melt your heart, he would say.”

“How long ago was this?” she asked, sad as she pondered the distance between her and her father.

“You would have been very young. It’s been many years—before I married Gwen.” Abbi remained silent and he continued. “I wanted to tell you this before. When I realized who you were, I wondered if I’d stumbled upon my fate. But it was too overwhelming. I couldn’t comprehend what you meant to me at the time. Or perhaps I was afraid to admit it.”

“What do you mean?” This was not where she had expected this conversation to go.

“Gerhard used to tease me in a way . . . when we were working together. Abbi, he told me time and time again that I should wait for his daughter to grow up so that I could marry her.” Abbi’s heart quickened as he went on. “I didn’t take him seriously. I couldn’t. I was already betrothed, and you were still a child. But he would smile at me and say, ‘You’re making a mistake, boy. My princess is the one for you.’ ”

“That’s incredible,” Abbi murmured.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “And with all that’s happened between us, no coincidence in our lives could ever surprise me. But somehow he knew. And if I’d listened, maybe all of my heartache could have been avoided.”

“There’s no good in trying to change the past. We’re together now. Perhaps life’s experiences while we’ve been apart have tempered us better, preparing us for now.”

“I suppose if we believe in destiny, then that makes sense.” He kissed her cheek softly.

“Besides,” she added, “you’d have had a long wait. I didn’t even think about marriage until after Papa died.”

“You’re still just a child,” he teased.

“I’ll be nineteen soon,” she said with mock aggravation. “I’m woman enough to handle
you,
old man that you are.”

“Yes, indeed,” he laughed.

“Exactly how old are you?” she asked, giggling. It was a ridiculous question to ask a man she was already married to.

“I think I’m thirty-one,” he said.

“You
think?”

“It is 1817, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Then I’m thirty-one. And that gives me more than a decade over on you.”

“So,
that’s
why you’re always calling me Abbi girl.”

“That’s right,” he said. “When you’re fifty and I’m sixty-two, you’ll still be a girl to me. You’ll always be my Abbi girl.”

Abbi laughed and pulled the reins from his hand, barely giving him enough warning to grab onto her waist before she broke Blaze into a gallop across a snow-covered meadow, laughing wickedly. When she pulled the reins back, the horse reared up on his hind legs, then came down and stood perfectly still as he’d been trained to do.

Cameron laughed and put his face into Abbi’s hair. “You really are full of fire,” he said, “just like your father told me.”

Abbi turned in the saddle and pulled his head down so he would kiss her. “I love you,” they said at the same time and laughed together as they rode toward the lodge.

While Abbi was freshening up, she impulsively decided to put up her hair. She had told Ramona that she could be a lady when she wanted to be, and in that moment she felt compelled to prove it. There was only one hair comb in Gwendolyn’s trunk, and it took her three tries to wind her long tresses just right so they were held in a delicate swirl. She went downstairs to find Cameron sitting on the sofa reading. She quietly came up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. He took off his glasses and sighed.

“Is the book fascinating?” she asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Not really,” he said and turned to look up at her. He stared a long moment, expressionless. With deliberation he put his glasses back on and stared again. Abbi walked around the sofa and stood in front of him while his gaze remained intent. He leaned back and folded his arms. He finally said with mock grandeur, “Are we going out?” She scowled at him and he added, “What brought on this sudden bout of refinement?” He smiled as he removed his glasses.

“A lady is supposed to wear her hair up,” Abbi said, giving him Ramona’s argument.

“Who told you that?”

“My aunt was very critical when I wore my hair down.”

“You
do
look elegant,” he admitted, “but I fail to see that you are any more of a lady now than you were an hour ago. Perhaps this aunt of yours is jealous of those long red tresses.”

Abbi smiled shyly at him. “I believe it’s more than that. My grandfather was criticized for the way he raised me.”

“And how is that?” he asked, looking up at her soberly.

“I suppose it’s assumed that a man can’t raise a young lady with the proper influence.”

“Did his methods ever bother you before?”

“No,” she said.

“Why now?” he asked, but Abbi didn’t reply. She only stared at him, confused.

“Abbi,” he said with reassurance as he eased her beside him and put his arms around her. “The way you look now, combined with the undeniable grace I’ve seen in you right from the beginning, makes it evident that you could stand up against any lady in any situation.”

Cameron pulled the comb from her hair and it fell around her shoulders. “But now it’s only you and me,” Cameron kissed her softly, “and you are by far the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen.” He paused and smiled. “Especially with your hair down.”

“Perhaps a real lady only wears her hair down for the man she loves,” she said quietly, reminding Cameron of her perfect innocence that was such a stark contrast to her exceptional wisdom.

“That sounds like a pleasing privilege,” Cameron said, rummaging his hands through her hair. “Hair like this should be looked at and touched, Abbi girl. Another privilege that I consider a singular honor.” His voice became reverent. “You are so beautiful.”

“But isn’t it true,” she smiled, “that I’m the only woman you’ve seen in years?”

“Yes, that’s true,” he admitted.

“Then your opinions are biased, are they not?”

“They certainly are,” he smiled and kissed her fervently. “But not for the reasons you’re implying. If I had been walking through the streets of Horstberg and passed by this,” he motioned toward her elaborately with his hand, “I would have tripped and fallen on my face. I would have groveled to know your name like some lovesick schoolboy.”

Abbi laughed softly as he leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Last summer,” he continued, “when you showed up out of nowhere and I saw you standing in front of me, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.” He took her hand and kissed it. “And I’m still in heaven.”

“You flatter me terribly, I’m sure.”

“Oh, no, Abbi,” he leaned toward her, “flattery is wasted on a woman like you. You’re too wise to be flattered, which is one of many reasons that I love you.”