Chasing Shadows (42 page)

Sarah remembered the broken flower she had found, looking like it had been trampled. She grimaced, having nearly forgotten about the daisies she had seen from her perch in the tree near Will’s house. Was that truly just yesterday? In the past forty-eight hours, Edith had been murdered, Sarah had discovered another time traveler residing in Serimone, and, for whatever reason, someone had wanted to sneak into the castle as the Shadow and had paid Robert to be the distraction. And now Will was back from the dead.

She swallowed, trying to focus on what he had just said instead of throwing her arms around his neck like she really wanted. Right now he needed to talk, and she didn’t want to let him walk out of here until she set him straight.

“You didn’t have to leave,” she said softly, trying to catch his eyes. He had sounded so nonchalant before, but the way he was avoiding her gaze was telling. Sarah placed her hand on his arm, and he didn’t shrug it away. “Damien and I were just goofing off. He knew that I was upset, and so we went to blow off some steam.”

He met her eyes, one brow lifting knowingly. She cringed, realizing how the common phrase in her world had probably sounded to him.

“We were having a snowball fight and tripped over each other—that’s all. What you saw was totally innocent.” 

“I never saw you pull away.” Will’s voice was even, inflectionless, though the tightness in his jaw hinted at jealous emotions.

She pulled her hand back, surprised. Then she became peeved as a part of her reminded herself that he had never actually declared his intentions or feelings for her, giving him no right to be jealous.

But she saw it—every time he looked at her, there was no denying he felt what she did.

Sarah took a breath and said as mildly as she could manage, “Well, if you hadn’t overreacted and run off so quickly, you would have seen that I
did
get up and that nothing else happened.”

He shook his head, sidestepping towards the exit. Sarah felt the chasm he was placing between them widen. His voice was tinged with misery when he spoke, though she could tell he tried to mask it. “There was something happening, even if you were blind to it at the time.”

“That’s ridiculous!” The absurdity of it nearly made her laugh, then her smile faded as she thought of the times she had been close to Damien—the look in his eyes or the way he touched her. Had she ever reciprocated his attentions? She had tried to convince herself that they were just friends, but she would be lying to say that there had never been anything between them, that she had never held her breath at his nearness or sighed in relief when he came to her rescue. 

Will retreated another step, trying to nod convincingly. His tone was businesslike. “But Lisandro seems well set-off and . . .
pleasant.
” He grimaced as though the word tasted foul on his tongue. “Don’t let me hold you back from realizing that you could be happy with him.” Each word came out sounding mechanical and rehearsed, but they still managed to shake her.

“You can’t be serious,” Sarah stammered. He was off his rocker if he was encouraging her to pursue Damien romantically. “Did that trip over the falls knock you on the head? Because I already told you that—”

“
I’m no good for you!
” he burst, startling her. His calm façade slipped, revealing the pain and uncertainty in his eyes as they searched hers. “Can you not see that?”

She blinked in surprise at his sudden change in emotion. “Why are you trying to turn me away from you?” she demanded brokenly.

A hand reached up, as if to stroke her cheek, and then it twitched and dropped limply to his side. Will shook his head at the ground, and his voice was strained. “Coming here was a mistake. Please excuse me.” Then he spun around and disappeared from her sight as if he couldn’t escape fast enough.

Sarah stood there, reeling, too shocked to call out for him as she stumbled back against the wall for support. She closed her eyes, feeling rejected and confused.
What just happened?

Then she realized that she hadn’t heard the sound of Will’s retreat. She opened her eyes again, feeling a spark of hope. A calloused hand was holding onto the edge of the stone opening, knuckles white with strain.

Holding her breath, she tipped her head to see out. Will stood in the hall, facing away from her, the length of his arm stretched out as he gripped the wall. He swore faintly. “What am I doing?” she heard him murmur. “I came here to fight.” She was suddenly reminded of what Karen had said about fighting for relationships that mattered.

Sarah swallowed, uncertain but knowing she couldn’t let him walk away like this. She wasn’t going to lose him again without a fight.

“Will,” she whispered, then stopped. What was there to say? But his back tensed when she spoke, and she knew he’d already heard.

“I seem to be indecisive,” he said lowly. He tried to lend his words a dry lilt, but his voice was tense. With a tight grip still on the stone, he turned slowly, the lines on his face looking strained in the muted light.

Finally, he released his hold and took a tentative step toward her, though she wasn’t sure he was aware of the movement. “I should walk away,” he said softly, eyes fixed on her face.

Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. “Then why don’t you?” It wasn’t a challenge: she needed to know.

Lips curving faintly, he moved another foot so he was standing before her. She pressed her back against the stones so she could look up at him as his face softened. He reached up, hand shaking as he touched her cheek. “How am I supposed to tell myself to walk away when I’m staring at the woman I love?” he whispered, almost to himself.

Sarah’s mouth hung open in astonishment. Had he really meant that? She was too shocked to ask as her pulse thrummed painfully at his words, spoken so close to her own face.

His lips parted a fraction of an inch, his head seeming to dip unbeknownst to him. She sucked in a breath through her teeth. The sound seemed to pull him from whatever trance he’d been in, and he shook his head, though he didn’t pull away. Eyes pained and face a veil of resigned anguish, Will tucked his chin to his chest. The action put a modicum of distance between them, but he seemed unable to pull back completely.

“But he can give you the things that I cannot offer you—your life would be better because of him,” he reasoned, though he looked sick at the thought of Damien sharing a life with her. His voice turned quiet, thoughtful. “When I saw you together, I told myself that I had to walk away and give you a chance at a better life. It would be selfish of me to wish for anything else, especially when it would sacrifice your happiness.” He shoved shaking fingers back through his hair, his lips curving into a wry grimace.

“And believe me, I’ve tried desperately to convince myself of that—to forget about you.” Will’s eyes searched hers tenderly, though the tortured look had yet to leave his gaze altogether. Sarah’s mouth parted in complete bafflement, absorbing every word he spoke. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she knew it couldn’t be easy for him to express his feelings so intimately. Yet it made it all the more romantic that he was willing to do it for
her
.

He seemed to bolster the courage to continue, and she held her breath. “But each time I started to feel that I was getting somewhere—that it was, indeed, possible to move forward alone—you would come into my life.”

At her look of surprise, Will smiled faintly and answered her unspoken question. “The day we met—I was intrigued, but then I got to know you and became concerned.”

Eyes widening, she whispered, “Why?”

He let the tips of his fingers graze the back of her scarred, trembling hand. The feathery-light touch sent her pulse racing. Sarah feared he might hear it, but she found she couldn’t concentrate on that fact for very long.

“Because I knew you could break me down.” He met her eyes. “Every time I managed to get you off my mind, you were suddenly there. When we were trapped inside my shop during the storm, and you looked so vulnerable that I was tempted to hold you”—Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise as he continued—“at the autumn ball, in the forest when you weren’t even aware it was me—everywhere I looked, you were there.” That faint grin returned. “And I found myself seeking you out when you weren’t near.

“And then four months later, when I managed to spend an entire day convincing myself that I had at last released your memory and that I could move on, as I was sure you had, our worlds collided—quite literally.” He grinned at the memory of them running into each other the day she came back. But his humor faded as quickly as it came. “And then right as I walked away again, convincing myself that I was doing what was best for you, I found you outside my home, having run to me for comfort. You made it hard to let go, but nearly dying made me realize that I didn’t want to simply let you go. That I
couldn’t
let you go,” he quickly amended, throat working.

“Why are you telling me this?” Sarah asked, shaking her head in confusion. Her chest seized at his closeness, heart flitting in uncertainty. He had come back from the dead and admitted he loved her in the matter of minutes. Her head was spinning, and her own rapidly fluttering emotions weren’t helping to clear her thinking.

Will smiled painfully and cupped the side of her face, almost reluctantly. Even before he spoke, she could tell from the look in his eyes that he had just needed to touch her one final time. She froze. “Because I am selfishly holding you back from the life you deserve.”

She started to protest and was silenced when he brushed his thumb gently over her bottom lip. She could only imagine how wide her eyes had become as his hand remained on her cheek.

“I know you care for me—I see it in your eyes—but how long will that suffice?” His gaze turned away. “What happens when you wake up one morning and realize that you needed something more? Lisandro can offer you everything.” Will pursed his lips, trying to hide his torment over speaking those words as he met her eyes once more. “I can offer you my love and pledge my troth to you, but we both would be fooling ourselves if we thought that you’d have a better life with me. I will never ask you to make such a sacrifice. And I think, in time, you’ll realize what I do: Lisandro
is
the wiser choice.”

Shocked, Sarah could only stare at his pained face, wanting to tell him that she loved him, longing to say the words and relieve the tension between his brows. She had strong feelings for him—now more than ever in light of all that had happened and been said—but she had only known him for a few weeks, whereas he had lived with the memory of her for months. She had spent most of her time with him guarding her heart by reminding herself that she couldn’t stay here.

It would be so easy to love him—she already felt the beginnings of the emotion brewing inside her pounding heart—but could she ever allow herself to truly love him? Wasn’t that selfish of
her?
He was willing to give her up completely so she could have a better roof over her head. She looked in his eyes and knew that he would walk away if she were the one to ask, no matter how it hurt him. But she also knew right then that she didn’t want him to go.

Swallowing, speaking the words as they came to her, she said softly, “The relationships that work aren’t built on things or status, because those can all be taken away. They succeed because they’re founded on love and commitment.”

He appeared surprised by her answer, and then that conflicted look returned. “I know it seems enough for now, but what happens when your feelings fade?”

Her throat burned with unshed tears. “Do you really think you’re so unlovable, Will?”

He looked dismayed that he had upset her and heaved a breath, eyes dipping in shame. Then his brow furrowed as something caught his attention, and Sarah saw him swallow thickly. The hand cupping her face moved lightly down her neck, sending a shiver over her spine and causing her eyes to widen. She was about to shrink back in surprise when she became aware that his search had stopped at her collarbone, his knuckles hovering over her skin.

She held her breath, and Will’s expression turned pained as he cautiously hooked his index finger under the chain around her neck, almost like he was afraid to touch it. But when the delicate links brushed her skin, she suddenly remembered the pendant she wore.

Face softening, Sarah watched his throat work as he carefully lifted the chain. His jaw tightened, fingers sliding down the length of it until he held the pendant in his palm between them.

“You kept it,” he breathed. When he looked up to meet her eyes, his were glistening with tears.

Sarah braced herself, expecting the sight of the necklace he’d given her to make his decision to leave so much more difficult.

His expression flickered between pain and amazement. But then a heart-stopping smile curved Will’s lips, the troubled look leaving his handsome features altogether. “All this time,” he whispered, then gave a quiet, choking laugh of elation. He looked astonished as his eyes searched her face. “All this time, you haven’t forgotten.”

She shook her head, tears pricking her own eyes. How long had it been since he’d felt worthwhile, like he was something to be cherished? Her heart ached at the idea that he had assumed she’d forgotten about him, that he had thought he was unworthy of the love she longed to give him.