Chasing Shadows (30 page)

With her emotions raging like a confused three-ring circus, Sarah hadn’t the least bit of appetite until the stew was before her. Her stomach tightened in hunger at the homey smells that reached her tear-clogged nose, and she gladly accepted the bowl. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He shrugged. “Nothing too extravagant—just some venison stew.”

“Did you hunt it yourself?” The way Will’s gaze flickered to her feet in avoidance told her he had.
Impressive,
she thought. Sarah took another appreciative sniff before savoring a spoonful of deer meat, potatoes, and turnips. She nearly sighed as she swallowed, the tangy warmth heating her insides. She cocked her head curiously to the side. “I didn’t know you were a closet gourmet. What else can you make?”

He appeared thoughtful. “Well, I can make stew . . . and stew.” She smiled faintly at his attempt at humor, and they lapsed into silence as they ate.

Sarah put her empty bowl aside. “More?” he asked, still working on his own supper.

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I haven’t eaten anything that amazing in a while, though.” She thought she detected a faint flush creep over his neck, but he ducked his head before she could be sure.    

She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by watching him eat, and her mind wandered back to the troubling scene with Edith when she had nothing to focus on, so she let her eyes rove over his one-room home. It was sparsely decorated but neatly kept, and the homey sights and smells eased some of the tension from her body. The comforting presence at her side made it easy to let her guard down, and she realized that she had always felt that way around him.

Thinking back to her encounter with the false Shadow, she swallowed hard, debating whether or not to come clean.
Nothing may ever come of it,
she reasoned, then immediately felt awful for thinking of putting her own feelings before his safety. “Will?”

He glanced up, his expression open.

She swallowed again. It was his life on the line, not hers. “I told you that I thought the Shadow was you at first?” He nodded, brows pulling together, as though sensing where this was headed. Sarah hunched her shoulders, wanting to stop her incessant shivering. “I used your name when I called out to him.”

Will’s expression was frozen on his face, but his eyes shifted as he thought it over. After a solid minute of silence, he angled his body toward hers. He didn’t look upset, just cautious. “Was he the only one who heard you?”

She nodded. “I think so. But I should have thought it through. I’m so sorry. You trusted me with your secret, and I might have blown it for you.”

Dark hair fell over his forehead as he shook his head. “No, you were startled. I don’t blame you for that in the least. If he even heard you, I doubt it would implicate me in any way—there are at least two other Williams in town, and one who lives in seclusion at the forest’s edge. The hermit would most likely be the first they would consider for questioning.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Consider for ques—Will, that sounds serious. Why are you not mad?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I am, but at myself. You should never have been in that position—you never would have followed him if you hadn’t thought it was me.” He shook his head in consternation—at himself, she realized. “I should never have burdened you with my secret.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from her middle and escaped her lips. He looked startled, and she wiped her eyes. Her nerves and emotions were completely shot, and she wasn’t quite sure what the tears were for. “That’s funny that you should feel like a burden, since you just took care of a girl who looked like she’d been hunting for weeks in the forest
.”
She nodded, rubbing her dry and swollen eyes with the corner of the blanket as she yawned. Granny used to say that if a guy saw her at her worst and didn’t run, then he was a keeper. Well, she was officially at her worst, and he didn’t appear eager to lace-up his sneakers.

Noticing her fatigue, Will’s said, “You should sleep.”

The thought of going back to the castle and walking past the spot where Edith’s blood had stained the floor was highly unappealing. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

He appeared aghast, and she wondered what she had said wrong. “I would never let you walk back in the cold at this hour.” He shook his head at the absurd idea and then nodded in the direction of his bed. “No, you can sleep here.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “. . . But where will you sleep?”

He pulled at the loose collar of his shirt, appearing entirely uncomfortable. Sarah would have laughed if she hadn’t felt that same awkward awareness she saw in his face. “The floor, by the fire,” he answered simply. Then he met her gaze, eyes a little wider than before. “I never would have asked you—I mean, I realize that it might seem—” He stopped, completely at a loss for words.

Sarah, too tired to argue or tell him that it was his discomfort that brought on her own, rose on unsteady legs and shuffled to the bed. She heard him jump to his feet behind her and watched, amused, as he threw the bedcovers aside so quickly that he nearly ripped the neat tuck-job from the wall.

Murmuring her thanks, she set the quilt on the chest in the corner and slipped gratefully into the bed. It wasn’t downy-soft like her bed at the castle, but it was heaven to her exhausted limbs. Will tucked the covers up to her chin, hand hesitating near her face.

Looking up at him, she couldn’t form the words, nor did she know just what she was trying to say—apologize, thank him?

He hesitantly moved the hand that had seemed frozen on the blanket up to her cheek, gently stroking away the errant tear that tumbled over her lower lid. Her throat constricted at the tender gesture.

Sarah squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to be strong, to not be a burden, but she felt weak and scared. She opened her eyes. “Will?”

“Hmm?” He murmured, tearing his eyes away from the idle strokes of his thumb to meet her bleary gaze. The change in his expression let her know that he already sensed what she was going to ask, and he dropped his hand.

“Will you stay with me?” She couldn’t believe the words had actually escaped her lips and felt ridiculous for asking, like some kind of fragile girl who was trying to pull a fast one. But at that moment she
did
feel fragile, and she kept picturing Edith lying there on that bloodstained rug. She wasn’t sure she could ever sleep again, no matter how heavy her lids felt.

Will released a breath, looking reluctant. “I’m not sure that’s—”

“Please? Just until I fall asleep.”
If I can.

He searched her face, seeming to sense the brokenness in her gaze. Then he nodded, the smallest of acknowledgements, and grabbed the quilt before crawling hesitantly onto the bed. Sarah turned onto her side to face away from him as the bed shifted under his weight. He sat against the wall at the head of the bed, close enough that his arm grazed her back in the small space. She felt awkward knowing how close he was and wondered if she should have just asked him to sit on the floor and hold her hand—her parents would blow a gasket if they saw her now—but despite her discomfort, Sarah already felt more reassured by his nearness.

“Thank you,” she whispered, eyes closing as he settled in beside her, the evening’s events weighing heavily upon her. She was almost asleep when she realized he was no longer touching her. She stirred anxiously, too tired to raise her lids. “Will?”

“I’m here,” he assured her.

She sighed, relaxing once more. She was practically incoherent by the time she murmured, “That’s all I needed to know.”

~Chapter 27~

Will watched the steady rise and fall of her back as she drifted off, knowing the exact moment when her breathing evened in sleep. She didn’t stir, and he knew he should make his bed on the floor. But he was unable—or unwilling—to move. So he sat there, forearms resting on his raised knees, watching her profile for any indication that she was troubled in her sleep.

Although their relationship had experienced its share of ups and downs, it had given him a spark of hope when she had come—she still trusted
him
!—making Will think that perhaps he hadn’t burned every bridge with his stubbornness. And it had felt so natural to take care of and comfort her, the ease of which had frightened him some. He was not used to successful relationships, and if he were being truthful, he wasn’t familiar with relationships
period
. The fact that he felt so comfortable around her still amazed him, but it was also a tad disturbing.

It was knew and at times tenuous, and he still wasn’t sure how to handle it, exactly. But for the first time in his life, Will was determined to make it work—this delicate relationship was too precious to let it go without a fight.

Knowing he was breaking every law of convention by remaining there, he shifted forward to leave, and his movements caused Sarah to stir uneasily in her sleep. He froze, not wanting to wake her from the momentary respite she had found in unconsciousness. Restless, she muttered a few unintelligible syllables and moved her face into the folded blanket he used as a pillow. He winced at the soft sigh she released. It was a sorrowful sound, of which he was sadly familiar.

He had recognized in her wide, panicked eyes the fear and sadness he had experienced after his parents’ murders. When he had watched her curl into herself as she wept, Will had felt as though he were gazing upon the wounded lad he once was, recalling the way he put everyone at arm’s length so that he might vent his grief in solitude. He knew now that doing so had only made the burden of grief heavier upon his shoulders with no one to suffer it with him, and he had pulled Sarah into his arms when he could no longer stand the thought of her suffering that same sorrow alone. 

After a moment of warring within himself, her whimpers became too much for him to bear, and Will quietly slipped down behind her. He pulled the spare quilt over his waist and mirrored the curve of her body beneath the blanket, maintaining a fair two-inches of space between them, though he wanted to touch her shoulder to take the burden he knew rested there and carry it for her. Unlike his self-imposed solitude, she would not have to be alone in her suffering.

“Shh. I’m here,” he murmured, brushing the hair back from her face. Her brow was furrowed, and he felt tension radiating from her body. He hesitantly draped an awkward arm over her waist. Even if she wasn’t aware of his presence, he needed to let her know that he was here for her.

Sarah muttered something that he didn’t catch, but she seemed to have calmed some, and the thrashing ceased as she drifted off again.

He wondered at the last time he had felt this close to someone, even if she
was
asleep. Telling himself that he would only stay another moment, Will rested his head against the mattress and relaxed the tension in his body. When several minutes passed, he told himself to pull away and move to the floor.

But what if she has another nightmare?
he countered, unconsciously tightening the protective arm around her. No, he would stay until he was sure she would be all right—five minutes more, he assured his conscience as he closed his eyes and buried his face in the soft waves of her hair, breathing in her scent. He had never been this close to her before, and she smelled wonderful.

“Not a minute more,” he muttered. Pulling her closer, he continued murmuring assurances into her hair as he fell asleep. 

****

Sarah stirred, resisting consciousness like the plague, though the reason for her swollen lids had already triggered memories of yesterday afternoon. Although the heaviness had lessened a great deal during her sleep, her chest still constricted at the reminder that Edith was gone, though she was too exhausted and dried-up to cry.

Squeezing her eyes closed against the images, she recalled the feel of Edith’s hand in her own and tried to focus on that last bit of warmth on her friend’s skin. Sarah wasn’t sure how she was going to wander the castle again, where everything would remind her of Edith.

Moving to roll onto her back, Sarah felt the mattress shift behind her. The arm she hadn’t realized was draped over her waist tightened, and she froze, stifling a shriek of alarm. Prying her heavy and resistant lids open with difficulty, she blinked the grit from her eyes and did a quick survey of her dark surroundings. That’s right—she hadn’t slept in the castle.

Her eyes widened in realization.

Oh. My. Sweet. Goodness.
She turned her head stiffly in the limited space and was just able to make out Will’s profile, since his face was buried in her hair. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest through the blankets that separated them, his warm, even breaths brushing the skin at the back of her neck.

Her gaze wandered the room desperately, looking for something to help her get out of this situation without waking him—there was no point in both of them being mortified, and her cheeks were already flaming enough for two. But aside from throwing his arm off and having to explain
that
to him, there was nothing to do but wake him.

Sighing, Sarah angled her head toward him and tried not to think about the closeness of his face, which was far too perfect for such an early hour. “Uh, Will?” He didn’t stir, and she held her breath and tried nudging him with one of her trapped arms. He snorted, and she bit back a sudden giggle that instantly died in her stomach when he snuggled closer, planting his face in the curve of her neck.

Sarah grimaced. It would have been one of those romantic moments in the movies if she didn’t feel so claustrophobic when she thought of the embarrassment he would feel in a few moments. She groaned and looked heavenward.
Really?

Feeling a tad panicky and trapped, she put a little more elbow into her next jab. Will started, his body jerking in sleep before he settled back to bury his face against the side of her throat, murmuring nonsense into her hair. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as his lips brushed the tender spot of skin just below her ear.

Releasing a yelp of surprise, Sarah whipped her head back around and shrank into the mattress.

“Wha—” Will stopped muttering abruptly, his body going board-stiff, and she knew he was awake. Unable to close her wide eyes, she bit her lip and hid her face in the mattress. She tried to cover her quick movements by pretending to stir in her sleep, hoping he wouldn’t see through her poor acting.

Will peeled his face from her neck, slowly, and his arm unraveled itself from around her waist with painful slowness. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he held his breath as he crawled with practiced stealth off the bed. He opened the lid of the chest, quietly riffling around inside for a moment before cursing under his breath. Sarah managed to resist the urge to peek at the contents and see what had him so ruffled, and then the lid closed almost noiselessly.

At the sound of shuffling feet, Sarah squeezed her eyes closed and planted her fists beneath her chin, sucking in a breath. Unable to resist, she snuck a glance between her tangled curls and saw his distorted figure collecting his boots and cloak. She thought he might have shot a glance her way before exiting his small home.

He seemed to have bought her little Sleeping Beauty act.

Releasing a breath, Sarah shoved her hair away from her face and flopped onto her back, chest rising and falling as she gratefully dragged air into her deprived lungs. The wood-paneled ceiling didn’t provide very interesting distraction, and she quickly became aware of the cool temperature in the cabin without Will’s warmth at her back. She hadn’t meant for him to stay the
entire
night and knew he must have fallen asleep by accident, judging by his reaction this morning. But when had he gotten so
close
?

She closed her eyes and groaned, mortified at the thought of his presence while she slept. She knew she talked in her sleep, and Sarah nervously racked her brain for any recollection of last night’s dreams. All she came up with was a vague memory of dark sadness that did not feel quite so indistinct now that she was awake.

Letting her eyes absently wander the room that was Will’s home, her logical side questioned what had been going through her head when she asked him to stay with her. Obviously, she had been emotionally compromised last night, but she had yet again put both of their reputations at risk by spending the night at a bachelor’s house, especially after the rumors that had been spread about them during her first visit to Serimone.

But the longer she thought about it, the less she cared for those gossips’ opinions of them. Will wouldn’t give their quick judgments a second thought, so why should she? She knew that staying here had not been the wisest choice, but next to Karen, he was the only person that she really trusted, and she would
not
have made it back to the castle in her distraught state. Looking back on the previous evening, Sarah realized how much of a comfort Will’s presence had been to her. If she had been alone after Edith’s death, she was sure she would have fallen apart . . . more than she had.

The thought of her deceased friend caused Sarah’s throat to burn with unshed tears. Swallowing thickly, she sat up, raising her knees to rest her cheek against them as she hugged the blankets around herself.

Through the miniscule gap in the shuttered window, she could see that early dawn was just beginning to take the edge off the darkness. She fought a wave of sudden grief at the way everything went on as always. It wasn’t as though she expected life to stop when Edith’s ended, but how could the world continue on its usual course in the wake of such a tragedy? It didn’t seem right that everyone could go on so unaffected, oblivious to her death or presence in the world, having made it brighter for those who knew her. Sarah felt a pang of sadness for the people who would never know what an amazing woman and friend she had been.

A cold blast of air swept into the room through the open door. Will tapped his boots against the doorframe to banish the excess snow and glanced up, catching her eye. He smiled hesitantly, his gaze wary, either due to what happened last night or where he had awakened this morning. “You’re up.” His voice was still gravelly from sleep and dark circles lined his eyes, though they were already bright and alert.

Sarah straightened quickly, not wanting to appear quite so pathetic in her cowed position, though she knew she must look awful with her swollen eyes and the bird’s nest that was her hair. She tried to subtly force the strands into some semblance of order but knew it was futile without a comb. Or a weed whacker.

Deciding it was useless to fight nature, Sarah let her arms drop. How did the women in movies wake up confident and gorgeous? She could barely keep her puffy eyes open and was fairly certain she had drooled sometime in the night. Subtly, she wiped the corner of her mouth on her shoulder, wondering if she should pinch some color into her cheeks when he turned the other way.

Just the thought made her feel ridiculous.

Even when he appeared tired, Will had a commanding presence that filled the room and demanded everyone’s attention, and the dark shadows on his cheeks made him look more ruggedly handsome than usual.
That’s fair
, she thought wryly.

Feigning a chill, she hiked the blankets up a little higher to cover her embarrassment. Oh, well. She had just bared her heart to the man last night and he had yet to run, so maybe a little drool wasn’t such a turn-off.

The silence stretched on. “Morning,” she whispered in a small voice.

Will closed the door with his foot and dropped his load of wood to dry by the fireplace. Straightening, he rubbed the scruff on his jaw, watching her. Sarah flushed under his inscrutable gaze and averted her eyes. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded and forced herself to meet his gaze. She owed him that much. “Thanks to you. And, um, sorry about last night. I’ve never really fallen apart like that before.” She managed a chuckle that sounded nervous even to her own ears.

Tilting his head to the side, Will studied her expression. “I hardly did anything.”

Rubbing the corner of one bleary eye to wipe away some of the stain from last night’s tears, she sighed wearily. “You did more than you know.” The tenderness that entered his expression at her words caused her chest to tighten.

“I was glad you felt you could come to me.” He took a few steps closer to the bed, though his gaze was still wary.

Testing his reaction, Sarah asked, “Even if you had to sleep on the floor?”

He hesitated. “I’ve slept in worse places.” Safe answer.

Before she could think of a reply, he asked her if she was ready for some breakfast. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease, and because it was easier than focusing on the painful memories of yesterday, her lips tipped in humor. “Stew?”