Chasing Shadows (19 page)

“You shouldn’t be doing that with your injury,” Sarah said, alarmed, as she caught the way he held his right arm bent and close to his side. She would be the worst nurse in history if she allowed her wounded patient to make her a fire. “It really isn’t that bad in here,” she lied, curling and uncurling her toes inside her boots to warm them. “I can have someone help me make one later.”

“A lady should never have to make her own fire.”

Sarah moved to stand beside him. “Come on. I’m supposed to be helping you recuperate, not putting you to work. You’re going to hurt yourself.”     

He grinned up at her, and that cheeky playfulness had returned. “One doesn’t need both arms in perfect working order to produce an adequate flame. And besides, what better recuperation than to help a young lady and receive her joyous admiration?”

Sarah ignored his waggling brows and huffed. Why was she so annoyed? When she looked back down, Damien’s face had turned sober.

“Does this truly upset you?” Eyes that had been teasing a moment before were now earnest and searching. How could the man be so brazen and comical one moment, and then look so caring and sincere the next? The way he studied her with his lips pursed and his head tilted to the side reminded Sarah of a child—how they didn’t quite know how to sort their emotions but instead expressed each one as it came.

His openness threw her, but she found that it was refreshing to know that she could count on him to be honest. She was always second-guessing herself with Will, so it was nice to have it all out on the table for a change.

“It really is not strenuous in the least.” Damien motioned to the logs on the floor of the fireplace. “And you have my word that I won’t do anything to tax myself.”

His innocent expression and the fact that he would be cautious of his health to ease
her
mind prevented Sarah from staying mad at him.

Her frustration melted away as she shook her head, smiling. Did he really have to be so darn endearing? “Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. But, hey”—she held her hands up in surrender—“I would probably burn the castle down, so if you think it’s okay, who am I stop man from making fire?”

She wondered if the caveman reference might be lost on him, but he still grinned, sensing the joke.

“Would you like for me to show you how?” Damien shifted to the side to make room for her.

She hesitated, then knelt beside him. “But I thought a lady wasn’t supposed to touch firewood with her fingers, only with her eyes.” She batted her lashes innocently.

Damien chuckled. “Something tells me that you would do it anyway, so I might as well teach you to do it right. I would be forced to save you if you set your room aflame, and that
would
be a strain.”

Sarah grinned, glad for the easy camaraderie between them. She paid close attention as he rearranged the firewood, staggering the pieces so that they looked like a teepee. He began to gingerly hike up his shirtsleeve, but flexing his bad arm seemed to pain him, and Sarah could see him getting frustrated with the simple task. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked down at her and nodded once.

“Thank you.”

Sarah began folding his sleeve, and she could feel him staring into the fireplace. “Does that help?” she asked, nodding to the odd configuration of firewood to distract him, hoping to keep his pride from smarting over the fact that he had to have a girl assist him with his own clothes.

“Yes, it helps the air to circulate between the gaps; space keeps the fire alive.”

Sarah frowned.
Huh
.

When the sleeve was past his elbow, Damien grabbed a good handful of kindling and stuffed it under the logs and in the cracks, explaining as he went. The mechanical movements seemed to relax him, and the lines in his forehead eased. Sarah found that she was watching his face as much as his hands, wondering at the tranquility she saw there.

Striking the flint, he bent low to light the fire, and Sarah paid close attention to where he placed the flame. Damien rested his good hand on the floor, bracing himself as he leaned his head down close to the kindling. He blew gently on the weak flame and continued to breathe life into it. Sarah watched, mesmerized as he deftly encouraged the sputtering flame with gentle breaths until it caught and grew, sustaining itself. She smiled and clapped encouragingly.

Still bent low, Damien turned his head to smile at her, the growing fire casting a warm glow over his features. “Voilà,” he said softly.

“Show off.” She lightly nudged him with her shoulder. Damien didn’t seem in any hurry to have his dressings changed, and she was enjoying the feel of the of the fresh winter air at her back and the heat of the fire washing over her face. They sat there for several minutes, warming themselves by the fire and listening to the faint sounds coming in through her window.

“Hey, Damien?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, looking contentedly at the flames.

“Am I allowed to leave?”

He started and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

Sarah tapped her shoe on a red-yellow ember that jumped from the fire onto the stones. “Well, I wasn’t sure if my staying inside the castle at all times was some sort of stipulation as long as I’m your nurse.”

When she looked back at him, Damien’s expression was . . . guarded? He looked away, and the fire played off the gold flecks in his eyes. “You are not being held here against your will, if that is what you are implying. I explained that you are my guest, and you will remain that way for as long as you wish, regardless of my health. It is your choice to stay or leave; not I nor anyone else can keep you here.”

Sarah detected resignation in his voice and smiled softly. Apparently, he had as few friends here as she did and was wary of losing a single one of them. “Good. Because I think you and I should bust out of here for the afternoon.”

His mouth dipped in surprise, and she laughed. “An outing?” he asked slowly, as if the very idea were outrageous.

“Yes.” Sarah nodded her head firmly. “I’m going crazy trapped inside, and you could use some fresh air. Come on. Let’s live in the moment. So, waddaya say, pal?”

His smile had grown with each word she spoke, and he laughed at the moniker, the sound deep in his throat. Jumping to his feet, he held out a hand. “Shall we, then?”

She accepted the proffered hand and stood, dusting her backside off. “We can’t go now, though. I have to swap out your bandages.”

“
Sarah
.” He stressed her name with an exasperated lilt, dipping his chin as if he were addressing a child. “I thought we were ‘living the minute,’ as you said.” He tapped the vertically sculpted line of scruff on his clefted chin, as if pondering something very deep. “Now how can we do that if we wait until another minute? And honestly, would you rather scrape my wound or breathe in the fresh air?”

Sarah mock-grimaced. “When you put it like
that
.” She gripped his good arm and began pushing him toward the door, grabbing his coat from the chair as they passed. Damien’s laugh prevented her from hiding her smile any longer.

“But you will need gloves, my dear,” he said, still chuckling. “And I shall need to fetch my cloak.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” Sarah said. But she ran back to the wardrobe, anyway, snatching a black pair of gloves. Wagging the gloves in front of him, she said, “
Now
we can break out of here.” She was feeling giddier by the minute and had to resist the urge to hum the
Mission: Impossible
theme song and creep stealthily down the hall.

Damien held the door open for her. “You know,” she said over her shoulder as she skipped past, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

He sighed dramatically. “What have I gotten myself into?”

~Chapter 20~

“So what should we do now that we’re past the fuzz?” Sarah made a show of glancing up and down the street as she skirted alongside the wall of the building, peering around the corner before ducking into the deserted alley. Peeking out, she motioned for Damien to follow her. 

He looked amused at her antics as he jogged to catch up. “Pardon?” The word escaped his lips in a frosty cloud.

“You know, the feds, the po-po, ‘The Man.’” She eyed the street suspiciously and glanced back at him. Her shoulders slumped when he merely grinned incredulously. “The guards, Damien. Keep up!”

He laughed, and Sarah was glad to see him in such good spirits. It made her want to act like an outrageous fool more often.

Damien placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward so that he could see around the corner. “We appear to have outsmarted the buzzards, as you called them.”

Sarah laughed at his confusion, feeling lighter than she had in a long while. “Fuzz, Damien. Buzzards are birds.”

A lone brow shot upward. “Oh, really?” He leaned his face down so that theirs were inches away, grinning impishly. He reached his good arm above her, and Sarah’s heart rate picked up when she was pinned between him and the wall. Startled, her eyes followed the movement, and she glanced up just as he tipped the snow-capped sign above them.

With a shriek, she ducked her head into his chest, hoping to avoid some of the raining powder as a good six inches of snow fell on their heads. She felt Damien’s chuckle build in his chest before it left his lips.

She leaned back slowly, still clinging to the front of his cloak, and blinked away a few wandering snowflakes that drifted through the air. Damien’s wet cheeks were flushed with pleasure, and she could see that he had taken the brunt of the avalanche: Snow clung to his dark lashes and lay in piles on his shoulders, and the white cone-shaped mound on the top of his head was a stark contrast to his tan skin.

Sarah doubled up laughing. “You looked ridiculous,” she gasped, clutching her aching middle. She could feel snow melting in her hair and dripping down her face, and she wiped her cheeks with the back of a gloved hand. Clearly pleased with himself, Damien gave her an over-sized smile as he brushed the light dusting of snow off her shoulders. “You know I have to retaliate, don’t you?” she asked.

“It was purely coincidental that it fell at that moment,” he said hurriedly, taking a step back with his hands raised in surrender. That haunted look no longer clouded his eyes, which glinted mischievously even as he feigned an expression of innocence. 

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.” She slapped the last of the white fluff from her sleeve and then started laughing again when Damien shook his head like a dog, sending a fresh spray of snow over her. “And was that purely ‘coincidental’?” she asked, giggling.

He paused almost thoughtfully. “I should watch where I step now, shouldn’t I?”

“Definitely.”

They grinned at each other. Damien held out his arm to her, his shoulders still covered in melting snow. In that moment he resembled a bright-eyed kid so much that Sarah wondered how many years it had been since he’d had fun and been able to just enjoy his youth.

All work and no play
, Sarah thought as she took hold of his arm. He didn’t seem to care about his appearance as they moved out into the open, and his lack of insecurity made her feel more confident and uncaring of how odd they must look sauntering through the streets, snow-covered and arm-in-arm.

“I have to do a few things while we’re in town,” Damien said regretfully as they came upon the square. He helped her around a muddy snow pile that carried the marks of countless wagon wheels and footsteps.

“I guess I can’t make you forgo all of your responsibilities.” Sarah shrugged good-naturedly. She didn’t care what errands they had to run; she was simply glad to be away from the castle and outside of its suffocating walls.

“Good.” He guided her across the street, and Sarah’s back stiffened when she saw the livery sign waving in the light breeze. She knew couldn’t avoid Will forever—that would never resolve anything if she intended to keep their friendship alive—but trepidation still snaked up her spine despite her best efforts to calm herself.

“Are you all right?” Damien’s soft voice cut into her musings. Was she that transparent? How was she supposed to face the man inside and pretend that everything was copasetic when she couldn’t manage a poker face good enough to fool someone who’d known her a day? Will knew her too well, and he would see right through it.

She forced a weak nod, but her steps halted before they reached the door. “Umm, I think I’ll wait out here.”

“But it’s freezing.” Damien shivered for emphasis. “I heard that the owner always keeps a fire going inside. You should warm yourself while we conduct business.”

She managed a smile. “Fresh air’s good for you, and I’ve been cooped up for so long that I hate to go inside so soon.” That much was true.

He nodded, though he looked reluctant to leave her. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Sarah watched his back until he was nearly inside and then quickly ducked around the corner of the building. Resting the back of her head against the siding, she released a heavy sigh. She felt guilty about abandoning Damien, but she knew if she went inside and saw Will . . . Well, she wasn’t sure
what
would happen, but it was sure to be awkward, and the last thing she wanted to do was spoil her and Damien’s morning together.

The sky was gray and overcast, and the sun no longer poked through the clouds. Sarah tried to remember the last time she had prayed. She’d made plenty of requests and had thrown out complaints the past few days, but how long had it been since she had
talked
with God? A day? Two?

I’ve just been so busy at the castle, taking care of Damien and getting situated in my new room.
She knew her excuses were weak. It wasn’t as though she had to take the time to prostrate herself on the ground and light candles. Who was she fooling, anyway? 

Sarah squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, trying to clear her head. Releasing a breath, she looked back up at the sky. “I guess this is a little overdue, huh?” she whispered. No one noticed her tucked into the space between buildings, so she wasn’t concerned with someone overhearing what appeared to be a one-sided conversation.

“I know I’m being a coward, but what am I supposed to do about all of this? You can’t possibly have it in Your plan to have this . . .
thing
between me and Will work out. I know it’s impossible, so I could use a little help to not fall for him anymore if we get our friendship back on track.”
Or if it’s easier for both of us to just let it alone, since I have to go back soon. . . .
Her thoughts drifted off, hoping for Him to fill in the blank with some advice or insight. She watched the heavens for a sign of some kind.

Anything will do,
she encouraged silently.
A lone white dove in a ray of light, lightning, a shooting star, a unicorn dancing on a cloud. Heck, I’ll even take a glimpse of the sun, if you don’t want to be quite so showy in public.

She waited.

Nothing.

And no dancing unicorn.

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment.  “Guess I have to make my own decision on this one,” she murmured, taking the ensuing silence as a yes.

“Sarah?”

She whipped her head toward the backside of the building, her heart rate picking up at the familiar voice. Will stood at the lip of the alley, arms loaded with firewood. He looked hesitant and unsure, and he seemed to clutch the mound of wood a little tighter when she caught his eye.

Sarah pushed off of the wall and straightened. “Hi,” she offered meekly, feeling awkward at being caught loitering outside of his business like a crazy ex.

“How are you?” he asked after a long pause.

“Fine.” She nodded before remembering to ask him the same thing.

“I am well, thank you.” Now that the pleasantries were over, an awkward silence took over.

Sarah’s eyes darted around the gap between buildings, looking for something that might spark some conversation. Her lips parted, twitching with the desire to either excuse herself or say something to delay the inevitable moment when they would part ways, but her mind had gone into sleep mode.

“It’s good to see you outside the castle again.”

Her eyes met his, and Will looked just as desperate to say something of worth in the heavy silence. But they were still stuck on clumsy small talk. He shifted his load, muscles straining with the weight of it, but he remained where he stood.

Tension seemed to crackle in the air between them like static electricity.

“Were you taking that inside?” She directed the tentative question to his knees when the silence between them became too uncomfortable to endure any longer.

“Hmm?” Will glanced down at the firewood and seemed surprised that he was still holding it. “Oh. Yes.” But he didn’t move. His gaze flickered over her face, to his feet, the hem of her dress, back up to her eyes again.

Sarah couldn’t stand the silence; it left her too much time to think and wonder what he was thinking. “Can I help you carry that?”

“Thank you, but I have it. I wouldn’t want you to get your dress dirty.”

It didn’t sound like an accusation, but something in the way he said it let her know he begrudged the person who gave it to her.   

“I really don’t mind,” she said, feeling suddenly small. A soft smile played at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s no trouble, but thank you.” He hesitated. “It is beautiful, by the way. Your dress.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained silent, their last conversation weighing heavy on her.

Will took a tentative step into the narrow passage, and then another. “I need to . . .” He balanced his load so he could point a finger down the alley.

He wanted to get past. Of course. For one silly, girlish moment, Sarah had thought that maybe he just wanted to be closer to her. She tried not to let her disappointment show even as her cheeks heated.

“Oh. Yeah, of course,” she stammered, pressing herself into the side of the building to make space for him.

He kept his eyes down, dark hair falling across his forehead, as he moved in front of her and then stopped abruptly, his feet suddenly rooted in the snow. Will slanted her a look, as if something had just occurred to him. He angled his head to the side so the wayward lock of black hair that always tempted Sarah’s fingers fell down over his eye. “Did you come to see me?”

To Sarah, the question spoke volumes, though she could tell he tried to hide his eagerness.

“Actually, I was waiting for someone.”

Will’s brow furrowed briefly before his expression cleared. “Lisandro?”

She rubbed her palms together anxiously. “We both needed to get some fresh air, and he had some business.” Sarah waved her hand back at the livery wall she leaned against, as if that explained everything.

“Oh. Of course.” He didn’t seem angry about the situation, and Sarah wondered if he regretted their parting as much as she did. He lowered his head until they were at eye-level. His concerned gaze bore into hers, rooting her to the spot, not that she wanted to move. Or could. “And you are well?”

Sarah knew what he was asking. She unconsciously reached up to fiddle with the pendant in nervous energy. He didn’t seem to have noticed it yet, and she held it in her fist, strangely wary of him spotting his gift to her. “I already told you that nothing is going on. Damien just needs a friend at the castle as much as I do. It isn’t anything like what you’re thinking.”

Will’s lids drooped slightly, and his lips tipped in a sad smile that Sarah didn’t quite understand. “It never is,” he murmured. 

She heard Damien call her name, silencing any reply she might have come up with. Her nervous gaze flickered to the opening of their little cocoon.

“Be sure that he treats you well.” His quiet words hung in the frigid air between them. Sarah nodded robotically, feeling confused and dazed as she returned his stare. His words rang out like a farewell, but was it her imagination, or had Will leaned in a little closer?

He blinked once, and the momentary break in eye contact seemed to sever whatever invisible string had been pulling him towards her. As if coming out of a trance, he straightened slowly, sincere eyes searching hers. “And if you are ever in need of a friend”—he took a steadying breath—“I am always here for you. Always”

His gaze was intense and probing, urging her to say something, and it suddenly looked like he wished his arms weren’t occupied as he gripped his load a little tighter. But Sarah had no idea what he wanted to hear, so she simply whispered, “Thank you, Will,” and watched a brief emotion flicker over his face, but it was too quick for her to interpret the fleeting expression.

He nodded, a single movement, as he backed away. “He’s searching for you. I should go.”

Sarah was about to contradict him but realized meeting Damien was probably the last thing he wanted to do right now. For his sake, she let him go. “Okay. ‘Bye.”