Chasing Shadows (24 page)

As it should be.                   

~Chapter 22~

A nap didn’t help to improve her mood. Sarah was too alert and moody to sleep, and she lay awake for over an hour, forcing her eyes shut only to have them open a moment later to stare blankly at the tapestries above.

With her thoughts loudly crashing together in her head, Sarah knew it was useless to try and rest. She sat up with a huff. Throwing the covers aside, she padded across the room in her stocking-clad feet, shivering as the floor’s cold seeped through the thin fabric and immediately chilled her toes. She really needed to make a fire, since the fruits of Damien’s labor had turned to ash and barely glowing embers in their absence.

Adjusting the rumpled coat she had been too lazy to unlace before her sleepless nap, she pulled out the desk chair and plopped down in the seat, folding her feet beneath her to warm them. Sarah reached for a blank piece of parchment, determined to keep her mind occupied with letter writing.

But to whom could she send it? She didn’t have anything new to report to Karen, other than a quick “Hi, I’m depressed and confused—please help me.” She could send an apology note to Will, but her mind drew a blank on what she could possibly say to right things. And Damien was around all the time, so she didn’t need to write
him
a letter.    

She stared at the empty page, feeling herself sinking deeper into her current forlorn state as she became fully aware that these were her only options.

Sarah put her head in her hands and leaned her elbows on the desk, suddenly filled with an aching desire for home. Tears burned the back of her throat and pressed against her palms, but she didn’t care, nor did she try to stop them.
You can’t have the best of both worlds
, she chastised herself, even as her heart warred within her to have her family close by as she fought beside Karen for justice here.

Knuckles rapped gently against her door, startling her. Sarah’s hands fell away from her face as she snapped upright. The sudden release of pressure on her eyes caused a few half-hearted tears to slip down her cheeks. Hastily swiping a thumb under each eye, she brushed her hands on the sides of her dress and hoped that she looked presentable. Maybe it was Edith coming to make a fire. The thought sent a jolt of hope through her, and she flung the door open in anticipation. Her face fell.

Damien’s expression melted into one of concern when he saw her bedraggled appearance. “Whatever’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” That much was true: Her heart was weary in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

He looked hesitant to take her word for it, though he nodded slowly. A moment of silence passed before he asked, “Would you like me to return later?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, we’ve waited long enough to take care of your arm.” She motioned him inside. “Have a seat.”

He entered reluctantly, his eyes flickering watchfully to her face every few seconds. Sarah grabbed a stack of fresh bandages and the pouch of salve from the trunk before having him sit down on it. She dragged the chair over to him in silence, feeling his eyes on her. She made a conscious effort to avoid his gaze.

Feeling awkward and reticent in his presence in light of what she thought she’d discovered about his affection for her, Sarah wasn’t sure if she could ever feel completely comfortable with him again.

“I requested that your friend be assigned to your room,” Damien supplied when she sat down.

She met his eyes for the first time since he’d entered her room. “Thank you.”

His head dipped to the side, his expression earnest. “Would you like to tell me what plagues you?”

Considering her current problems concerned him, she decided to keep it to herself. It was sweet of him to ask, though, and it only made her like him more. Sighing, Sarah shook her head. “No, but thanks for the offer.”

Damien nodded, pausing thoughtfully. “Do you wish me to leave?” he asked again. This time he looked reluctant.

Sarah found she couldn’t lie to him. “No, I’d like you to stay.”

****

As she cleaned his wound—which she concentrated very, very hard on to avoid looking at his well-toned arms—Damien regaled her with happier tales from his childhood, of he and Isabella’s silly adventures in Spain. Sarah was immensely grateful for the distraction and already felt her mood lifting in his presence. He seemed to subdue her sullenness, and she was able to put her troubling thoughts aside for the time being.

Damien suddenly smacked his thigh with the palm of his hand, eyes bright. “I have a wonderful idea to get your mind off your morose state.”

Morose?
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What is this brilliant epiphany?”

He stood, slipping his shirt over his head. Sarah averted her gaze until the fabric slipped down to cover the lean muscles on his stomach that his undershirt had hiked up to reveal. Damien grinned, and she wasn’t sure if it was in light of his grand idea or because he’d caught her flustered aversion of his bare skin.

“Ah, that shall remain my secret.” He placed his hands in front of him to get her to stay in her seat when she began to rise. “I will be back in five minutes.” And then he breezed through the doorway.

Sarah waited, her curiosity eating at her, but it was also keeping her mind off of the darker thoughts she had been entertaining before he arrived.

As promised, he returned a few minutes later dressed in a heavy black coat, his expression schooled into a gentlemanly mask as he offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

Sarah glared at him suspiciously as she accepted his help. “We aren’t going to rob a bank, are we?”

Chuckling, Damien led her from the room, though he never answered her question. They meandered through the castle, down to the ground floor, and then he guided her through a series of corridors leading to the west-facing end of the castle that bordered the forest.

A guard was positioned before the door at the end of the hall Damien led her down. He nodded to the guard as they approached. That man dipped his head in response, promptly turning a key in the lock and opening the door for them. With a smile, Damien motioned her out first.

Sarah stepped out into the crisp air, eyes roving her surroundings suspiciously as she wondered what he had planned. The large open space between the castle walls and the edge of the woods was covered in a perfectly undisturbed blanket of snow. There was nothing there but two horses tethered to a wooden post near the wall.

“What’s going on?” she asked, voice quavering slightly as she gaped at the large, well-muscled animals.

She knew the answer to her question before Damien replied, in a self-satisfied voice, “I am going to teach you to ride.”

Sarah straightened her shoulders defensively and steadied her voice. “What makes you think I don’t already know how?”

He slanted her a shrewd smile. “Earlier, you gave the horses a wide enough birth to give me some idea. And if that was not enough evidence of your aversion, your reaction just now leaves no doubt. But riding has always been a favorite winter pastime of mine. So.” He released her arm and walked backwards the rest of the way to the gigantic, four-legged beasts, grinning in challenge. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

She consciously closed her mouth and swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. He was giving her the chance to overcome her fear of riding. It had been almost a decade since the accident, since her left leg had nearly been snapped in two, and she was tired of living with the constant shadow of fear trailing behind her. Sarah made the decision in that moment that it was time to move forward with her life.

But her feet refused to respond. Regardless of the messages her brain sent to her lower half urging her feet to shuffle forward, she remained rooted to the spot. What was wrong with her? An image came to mind of her hand gliding gently over a mare’s nose, the stars a bright canopy overhead as a strong, silent presence encouraged Sarah from behind.

Then she realized that she
was
ready to overcome and let go of the chain of worry that she had foolishly been clinging to. The only problem with this scenario was the matter of
who
was standing by her side when she at last moved past her fear of falling.

It felt like a betrayal to move on without Will when he had been the one to help her overcome her original fear, if even for a moment, getting her on a horse for the first time in years. Sarah remembered his comforting strength against her back as they rode. She had been scared at first, but when that melted away, all that remained was the pure joy of riding without fear—just like it used to be.

Damien’s face fell when she didn’t budge. “You look ill,” he observed.

She opened her mouth to reassure him, but her mind had gone blank. It was upsetting that she couldn’t even move toward the animals without feeling guilty or wishing that it were Will who were offering to teach her to ride.

Damien noticed her resistance and said with some surprise, “You truly are afraid. I’m so sorry, I did not realize how serious it was. Forgive me.”

Sarah shook her head and finally convinced her feet to shuffle forward a step. “I’m the one who’s sorry. This was really thoughtful. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I just—I can’t right now. I had an accident a while ago and haven’t completely gotten over it.” Her eyes were entreating. “I hope you can understand.”

“Of course, but why should you remain fearful of them?”

Sighing, she revealed the memory that still made her cringe. “I loved riding growing up, and the summer I turned ten, I convinced my parents to buy me a horse. Every day after school, I walked to the stable where we boarded her and would ride for hours. That horse got me through some hard times.” She shuffled her shoe in the snow until she spotted dirt beneath. Damien was silent, waiting for her to go on.

Swallowing, she said softly, voice filled with pained remembrance, “I guess a rabid coyote found its way onto the property and killed a bunch of chickens, and then it got into the stable before one of the workers captured it. They didn’t think the coyote had infected any of the other animals, but just in case, my parents told me to stay away for a few days until the owner could check the horses out, but I had to see if she was okay.”

“Was your horse ill?” Damien asked gently.

Sarah grimaced, nodding. She recalled with startling clarity the frightened, wild look in its eyes. “I wasn’t going to ride her, just make sure she was all right. But when I came into her stall, she panicked and reared back. I was in her way, and she knocked me over to get past and came down hard on my leg.” She could still hear the sound of shattering bone and her own scream as it rent the stale air of the stable.

In a voice lacking inflection, Sarah added, “She broke free and got out into the field. They had to shoot her before she could spread the disease to the other animals.”

Blinking to pull herself from the memory, she looked up at Damien. Though the reference to the rifle should have been lost on him, his brows were drawn together in empathy, sensing by her tone that the horse had been killed. “Were you badly hurt?” he asked.

“It took me six months before I could walk again, and another year before I was able to do it on my own. I know it’s stupid, but it was traumatic, and I’ve been scared to ride ever since.” She looked down, embarrassed. The scars on her left knee had diminished over the years and were invisible beneath the layers of fabric, but she knew they were there; her defects had been fodder for the bullies at school preceding the surgery and the loss of her “friend.” Although the scars had faded, some wounds went more than skin-deep, and she was sure she would have to carry them with her forever.

Damien moved to take her hands in his own. They were strong and smooth as they closed over her fingers. “It is
not
foolish,” he said firmly, and Sarah was surprised at the fierceness burning in his eyes. “Everyone fears something, and you should not be ashamed of that.”

“What are you afraid of?” she asked, slightly breathless from his sudden nearness.

A shadow passed over Damien’s features, and he released her hands with a pained look. “Becoming my father.”

Sarah shook her head. “You’re nothing like him.”

His smile closer resembled a wince. “I pray not.” He moved nearer to the forest’s edge, turning his back to her, seeming to require a moment to collect his thoughts.

The sadness in his eyes had caused Sarah’s fingertips to tingle with the desire to reach out to him. Watching him now, she was filled with immense sympathy for his internal battle against a dark past, and she swallowed back the urge to envelope him in a comforting hug.

I don’t want you to confuse compassion for sentiment.
Karen’s words echoed through her mind, and Sarah was starting to see the wisdom in them. She couldn’t allow her mind to go there. She
would not
fall for him, for both of their sakes.

But though she told herself to guard her mind, it was difficult to convince her heart to do the same when it only wanted to take away his sorrow.