Behind the Mask (12 page)

Abbi wasn’t surprised when Blaze broke into a gallop toward the bottom of the ridge. She relished his willfulness as the dead leaves crackled and popped beneath the heavy trod of his hooves. He seemed even more troubled than he had earlier, and it took great effort for Abbi to control him as he played his game below the rock wall. While she wanted to believe that Blaze understood her torment over the situation, she had to conclude that he was probably remembering the mares beyond the ridge that he’d been
flirting with
. Recalling how the bearded man had put it, she laughed softly.

“Sorry, Blaze,” Abbi said. “I don’t think it’s meant to be.”

With little warning it started to rain, which didn’t seem to discourage the crows that were hovering in the trees above her, but Abbi knew she must return home. The clouds were dark and heavy, and with November approaching she knew the rain was likely to turn to snow. Blaze resisted her efforts to leave the meadow, but he relented more easily than he had earlier, perhaps motivated by the foul weather. By the time they reached the stable, the rain had turned to sleet and Abbi was soaked to the skin.

Georg glared at her as she dismounted. “What are you doing riding in this kind of weather?” he scolded. “I go to the pub and you run off without even a saddle.”

“It wasn’t storming when I left,” Abbi protested, “and I was in a hurry.” She smiled gratefully at him, knowing he was only concerned for her welfare.

Georg took Blaze by the reins and motioned Abbi out the door. “Now get yourself into the house,” he ordered, “and out of those wet clothes before you freeze to death.”

“I hardly think that’s possible.”

“Don’t take it too lightly,” Georg said. “It almost happened to me once.”

“Really?” Abbi said, her curiosity aroused.

“I’ll tell you about it some other time.” He smiled. “You get yourself into a hot tub—immediately!”

Abbi returned to her room to find an invitation on her dresser that had been delivered from Castle Horstberg. In spite of Nikolaus’s indiscretions, she couldn’t help being pleased with the offer to join Helena and Madeleine for a ladies’ luncheon the next day. The word
ladies
had been underlined, as if they’d meant to imply that Nikolaus would be absent. Abbi wondered if his sisters knew what a scoundrel he was. She hurried to prepare for her bath, deciding the luncheon would be a nice diversion.

While soaking in the tub, Abbi reflected over the onset of winter that hovered in the evening air. She felt an undefinable anticipation in the weather, and for some reason it helped push her turbulent thoughts of Nikolaus to a place in her mind where they could easily be ignored.

Abbi slipped into an old calico dress that was predominantly the same green as her eyes, and dug out her sketchbook. Putting some finishing touches on her sketch of the mountain ridge, she liked the way just looking at it brought back the feelings she’d experienced there so many times. A knock came at her door and she set the drawing aside to answer it. Pleased to see Georg, she motioned him into the room, saying, “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to check and see if you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” she said, then her heart quickened as his eye moved to the sketchbook on the bed. Before she could get a word out he had picked it up. She felt an inexplicable dread as his expression showed blatant alarm. She attempted to grab it, but he moved it from her reach.

“Abbi,” he said breathlessly, looking at her with wide eyes, then gazing at the drawing, “where did you see this place?”

Abbi feared she had unwittingly done something to break her promise, and she silently prayed for help in not betraying what she knew. “I saw it in a dream,” she said.

Georg froze, his eyes set on her, his expression so incredulous that Abbi almost felt as if the world had stopped. Her heart began to pound. Her emotions were torn between honoring her promise and sharing with Georg the full extent of her dreams and feelings. She felt sure she could trust him. But then, she knew little of his life beyond the work he did on the estate. How could she be certain?

Abbi was startled when Georg nearly staggered to the chair and sank into it, apparently feeling weakened. He looked at her as if she’d sprouted a halo or something before his eyes were drawn back to the picture in his hands. Afraid of what she might have revealed, Abbi grabbed the drawing book from Georg and slammed it closed. “It’s nothing,” she said firmly.

“If you saw it in a dream, it certainly is
something,”
he insisted. When she said nothing more, he added, “Have you been to this place? Have you—”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Georg,” she said. “Please . . . I need some time alone.”

Georg looked searchingly into her eyes before he left, reluctant and concerned. Abbi stuffed her drawing book under the bed and impulsively knelt down to pray, although she ended up just battling thoughts back and forth more than actually talking to God. She finally got up off her knees, feeling the need to apologize to Georg. She hadn’t broken her promise to the man on the mountain, nor would she, but it was important to maintain her friendship with Georg, and she’d been abrupt with him.

Abbi grabbed her cloak and hurried out the side door. It was snowing heavily now, and the wind had increased to a biting velocity. Abbi pushed open the heavy stable door, anxious to escape the storm. It only took a moment to see that Georg wasn’t there. Then she noticed the broken stall and Blaze running freely in the stable. Before she had a chance to wonder how he’d managed to do such a thing, he bolted past her into the storm.

“Blaze, no!” she cried, running after him. But she could see nothing but snow. Blaze was gone. She had no doubt where the stallion was headed. She’d almost been waiting for him to do it. But why tonight of all nights?

Hurling herself onto the back of a sturdy mare, Abbi pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and rode toward the mountain. The trail was clogged with snow but the trees offered some degree of buffering from the storm. She pushed the mare mercilessly, hoping to avoid a calamity for them both. But her mind was frantic. She had to find Blaze. There was no way to comprehend how much that horse meant to her. And if he went up through the ridge . . . She couldn’t even think about that. Surely the animal wouldn’t be capable of breaking through the foliage on his own. Would he? Could she go back on her promise for the sake of getting Blaze back? With any luck she’d catch up to him before he got that far.

The storm worsened as Abbi gained altitude. Emerging from the protection of the forest into the open meadow, she was assaulted with wind and snow unlike anything she’d ever encountered. The breadth of the meadow that could normally be crossed in a minute took several, but at the foot of the ridge she found no Blaze. It was impossible to see tracks due to the snow and wind, but she soon discovered a gap of broken foliage. Blaze
had
found his way through, and she had no choice but to go after him. In her attempt to dismount she slipped and fell, buffeted by wind that made it difficult to stand. Before she found her footing, the startled mare bolted back toward the trail. Abbi stood with difficulty and brushed the snow from her clothes as much as possible. She told herself everything would be fine. She could ride Blaze home when she found him. But her feet and hands were turning numb from cold, and the rest of her was painfully freezing. She’d never felt such fear.

Groping through the blizzard, Abbi found the narrow crevice in the rock. She worked her way up through the passage, trying to hold the rock wall for support. But her fingers were too cold to grip the slippery stone surface with any success. Inwardly she prayed that she could find Blaze and get safely out before she was discovered. In spite of her obsession with the man she’d met beyond the ridge, she had no desire to encounter his anger.

Each step upward against the rocky incline became a battle as she fought to keep her balance in the snow. Her feet ached from the cold and she knew her shoes and stockings were soaked through. Saturated with moisture, her thin cloak clung to her body. The cold became crippling as her hands and feet hardly responded to her efforts to move, and an uncontrollable shivering overtook her.

Trying to keep a clear image in her mind of finding Blaze and riding him home to warmth, Abbi continued moving upward. Her progress was slow and strained, but she forced herself to keep going. When she thought she could see the top of the ridge, a rush of motivation pushed her on. She was certain she only had a few more steps to go when her foot slipped and her ankle twisted viciously. She screamed as she lost her footing and fell. The rocky surface just beneath the snow’s deceptive covering bit painfully into her back. Pain shot up her leg and she could feel a deep cold settling in, leaving her helpless as she shivered violently. She screamed for help, putting every particle of remaining strength into letting her voice be heard. But she knew there was only one person within miles—and he was probably snuggled under a blanket by the fire, oblivious to the storm raging outside his cozy lodge. Recalling Georg’s comment about her freezing to death, Abbi wondered if it had been some kind of horrible premonition. Within moments her shivering ceased, and Abbi felt herself sinking into a peaceful oblivion as she began to feel warm again. Opening her eyes, she realized she was still lying in the snow as flakes fell silently over her face. She knew her body had surrendered to the cold. Her life was over.

Cameron knew this would be the day. The official onset of winter simply had a feel that was unmistakable. The sky wore a heavy gray shroud, and the wind whipping against his face as he did his monotonous routine had an extra bite.

Working harder than usual, Cameron checked the stable and lodge for their preparedness against winter. He moved meat from the smokehouse into the pantry, and chopped wood until his shoulders ached from the swing of the axe. Carrying one armload of wood after another into the lodge, he wished his physical exhaustion could push away the anguish of facing another winter completely alone. One more year had come and gone, and still his prayers had apparently gone unheard. Or perhaps he’d only been given one chance to have his prayers answered, and he’d sent her away in fear and anger. Even then he had to admit that he wasn’t entirely certain what he’d been praying for. While his loneliness had become incapacitating, any possible avenue to end it felt the same.

It was incredible to believe that he’d been here over three years, and had only once spoken to another human being. He wondered at times if he were still sane. He felt in control of his mind, but if he
had
lost it, would he know? His only consolation was knowing that the alternatives to this life were either death or imprisonment. If he had been sure they’d just kill him, he might have come out of hiding long ago. He was becoming steadily more certain that death would bring more peace of mind than the internal scourging that tormented him daily. This peaceful mountain solitude was a far cry above rotting in some hole of a prison cell, but it had long ago lost what tiny measure of appeal it had held for him initially. Instead, he was banished, exiled from the world by barriers that were too ugly to even think about. And now another winter was at his door. Snow brought with it unyielding seclusion, and he knew he couldn’t leave even if he had a choice. He found himself wondering how long it might take him to gather the courage to do what he knew was inevitable. In his heart he knew he would never survive until spring. Winter had brought with it the stark reality that his life was being measured in days. He just didn’t know how many.

During late afternoon the rain began, quickly turning to sleet. Cameron fed the animals and went into the lodge to dry off. The dogs lapped at his feet as he entered with one last armload of wood, and he was at least grateful for their companionship. It was just past dark when he realized that an intense blizzard had set in—one of the worst he’d ever seen. He was just sitting down to eat when he heard the horse. Or was it a horse? With the wind howling he couldn’t be sure. Then he heard it again. He knew his two mares were locked safely in the stable, but he put on his coat and boots and went out to investigate. The snow and wind were fierce as Cameron made his way to the stable. He was amazed to see a fiery stallion galloping back and forth in front of the corral. Carefully he approached the animal and opened the gate, his heart quickening as the familiarity became evident. The horse entered without hesitation, then went just as easily through the stable doors. Cameron smiled to realize the lengths this stallion had gone to in order to find a mare. He wondered briefly if the horse’s owner might be anywhere nearby, but the animal had arrived without a saddle or bridle. Surely he had come alone. The thought made his ache deepen.
He was such a fool
. Well aware of the closeness that woman shared with this horse, he felt a measure of heartache to think how she might feel to be without him for the many months it would take the snow to thaw enough for his return. Other thoughts also crept into his mind that he couldn’t examine too closely, and he pushed them away.