Behind the Mask (21 page)

Cameron smirked at her obvious embarrassment. She cleared her throat and continued. “When Potiphar heard about it, he sent Joseph to prison.”

“Oh, so now the poor boy’s in prison.”

“Yes, for a very long time. But while he was there, Pharaoh’s baker and butler were brought in, and they were both troubled by dreams.”

“Pharaoh, as in the king of all Egypt?”

“That’s right,” she said as if she were terribly impressed with his knowledge.

“I’ve endured a few history lessons in my day,” he said, motioning for her to continue.

“Joseph interpreted their dreams and they came true. The baker was executed, and the butler returned to Pharaoh’s service. I think it was two years later that Pharaoh had some very disturbing dreams, and none of his ministers could interpret them. The butler told Pharaoh about Joseph, and he was brought before the king. Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dream, predicting that there would be seven years of plenty, and then seven years of famine. He told the king that it was a warning, so that Egypt could store food through the years of plenty to get them through the famine. Pharaoh was so impressed that he made Joseph governor of all Egypt to oversee the project of storing and then distributing the food.”

Abbi was silent for a minute while he stared at the drawing. He had to admit, “That’s quite a story. Are you saying, then, that the moral is . . . what? Tell me the point.”

“Joseph never stopped believing in his dreams, and he never compromised who he was, even through many years of hardship, when I suspect he often must have felt forsaken. Even when he had no good reason to have faith, he still did.”

Cameron tried to absorb what she was saying. Did she have any idea the impact her story was having on him? Was that why she had come here? To tell him the story of Joseph? The idea was ludicrous, especially when he wasn’t certain he wanted to contemplate the story too deeply. And faith was simply beyond his ability to grasp.

“That’s all very nice, but—"

“I’m not finished yet. Don’t you want to know what happened to his brothers?”

“I’m certain you’re going to tell me.”

“Of course. It’s the best part. When the famine began, Joseph’s family got low on food, and they heard they could buy grain in Egypt. The brothers went to Joseph, not knowing it was him. They bowed down before him, which—”

“Which meant that Joseph’s dream had come true.”

“Precisely. Joseph figured out a way to test his brothers. When he saw evidence that they had become honest men, and they regretted what they had done, he revealed himself to them.”

“And they lived happily ever after, right?”

“Actually, yes. He forgave them.”

“How could he, when—”

“He was able to see that the difficulties he’d suffered had been for the purpose of putting him in the position to save his family from starvation. There was a higher purpose in the bad things that happened to Joseph.”

Cameron looked at Abbi’s drawing of Joseph once more before closing the book and handed it to her. “So, Abbi girl, do you think there is a higher purpose to your
gift of dreams?
”

Abbi didn’t like his cynicism, but she only said, “I don’t know, Cameron. I just do my best to listen to my feelings and follow them. I seriously doubt that I am capable of making much difference in the world.”

“That gives us something in common,” he said and left the room.

Abbi sighed and rolled over, wondering if he was implying that his doubts were directed toward himself, or her. Either way, she doubted her own wisdom in actually sharing her deepest feelings with Cameron. At times he could be so easy to talk to, so easy to trust. And then, in an instant, he could turn bitter and crusty. She wondered if it might be possible to break past that churlish exterior long enough to find the real Cameron. Oh, how she longed to!

Watching snow fall became a common pastime for Abbi. It came down relentlessly for days at a time, and the world became more buried every hour. Certain the boredom would drive her crazy, Abbi found a chore that not only needed doing badly, but it would occupy some time. It was easy to find a bucket and scrub-brush. After pulling her hair up in a ridiculous manner to keep it out of the way, she set to work scrubbing the kitchen floor. The chore was tedious, but Abbi hummed as she went, feeling some satisfaction in the vast change she brought out in the floor. At least it was better than watching snow fall.

Abbi tried to ignore Cameron as he came into the lodge, making elaborate indications of how cold it was outside. But as soon as he’d taken off his coat and gloves, he walked right across the clean, wet floor and stood directly in front of her. The two hounds followed and plopped down by his feet. Abbi just kept scrubbing and humming as if they weren’t there.

“What have you got to say for yourself?” Cameron sounded indignant, as if her chore were an insult to him.

Abbi paused her work to look at his boots, only inches from her face. “Is it cold outside?” she asked.

“Quite.” His indignant tone deepened at her evasion of the subject. “Do you want to talk about the weather?”

“Can you think of something better?” she asked, returning to her chore.

He finally got to the point. “What are you doing?”

“Something that you apparently don’t know how to do,” she retorted with a challenge in her voice. She was careful to keep her head down as she scrubbed vigorously, so Cameron couldn’t see her smirk.

“Are you indicating that this place isn’t clean?” he asked.

“This floor wasn’t.”

“It’s never bothered me.”

“Obviously.”

“It’s my floor, and my house, Abbi girl. Dirty or not.”

Abbi looked up at him and smiled wickedly. She found the situation amusing, but Cameron wore no expression as he stood casually with his hands on his hips. “Welcome to the world of companionship,” she said slyly.

“Indeed.” He glared at her.

“Now, sir,” Abbi said with authority, “if you would care to remove yourself and these
dogs,
I will finish my work.”

“These
dogs,”
he mimicked her tone, “do have names.”

“I’ve never heard you call them by name.”

“There’s never been anyone else around. If I spoke, they knew who I was talking to.”

“And now?” she asked but didn’t wait for a reply. “But of course, they know when you speak to
me
by your amiable tone.” Her sarcasm was evident.

“Their names are Duke and Captain,” he said, ignoring her comment.

Abbi looked up at him in astonishment. Then she laughed. “You’re serious.”

“Yes, I’m serious.” His irritation deepened.

“Which is which? No, don’t tell me.” She thought of Lance with his blond hair, and Nikolaus, who was dark. “The black one is Duke.”

“Very good,” he drawled.

“Is there . . . a reason you named them—”

“A friend gave the dogs to me when they were puppies. He named them.”

“I see.” Abbi forced herself to be serious and returned to her work. Cameron plainly had no intention of moving, so Abbi took her scrub-brush to his boots.

“My boots don’t need washing.” He sounded insulted again, but still he didn’t move.

“That’s what you said about the floor.”

“And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to—”

“To clean this floor despite all obstacles.”

“Then perhaps I should move,” he said, giving in at last.

“How very sensible.”

Cameron casually walked from the kitchen and sat at the table where he could see her. The dogs followed, lying near his feet as he slid low in the chair. Abbi was vaguely aware of him staring at her as she scrubbed and hummed, ignoring him completely.

“I used to watch you,” Cameron said. Abbi stopped scrubbing and looked up at him, puzzled by his comment. His expression was earnest and his eyes showed a depth that rarely surfaced.

Cameron studied her expression closely while he waited for a reaction. His heart responded to memories of hiding in the trees to observe her antics with the stallion that seemed an integral part of her. The first time he’d come upon her had been uncanny coincidence. Georg had come up in the night and left supplies at the top of the ridge. He’d gone to retrieve them and found the object of his obsession wildly riding the meadow below. The strength had drained from him and he’d sat on the ground, leaning against a sturdy beech tree, soaking her in from a distance like rare art. There were many times he’d gone to the ridge, hoping to see her and leaving disappointed. But eventually she’d made a habit of her time there, and he’d made a habit of watching her, always in awe of how well she sat Blaze, as if they were one, and what a striking picture they made when Abbi rode with her fiery hair flying behind. Her natural grace and poise had radiated from her brilliantly, and he had drawn her into his aching spirit. Only fear had kept him from answering his temptations to go down through the pass and break the promise he’d insisted she keep. Now, in spite of fear’s power over every other part of him, she had landed firmly in the center of his life, and he only became more entranced by her every day, every hour that she hovered within his reach. But he felt barriers of stone between them now as surely as he had then. His fear kept him well guarded, except on rare occasions when it would momentarily become too weary of the battle to hold back the truth.

“When you’d ride the meadow,” he added, “I was watching.”

Abbi stood up slowly. She felt a need to react to his confession, but emotion prevented her from speaking. Haunting sensations flooded back to her as she stared into those intense blue eyes. It was comforting somehow, knowing that he’d been mindful of her then, just as she had been of him. But what did it all mean? And how could she ever make sense of all she had felt? All she felt now?

“Does that surprise you?” he asked.

There was so much she wanted to say, so many things she wanted to ask him. “No,” was all she could manage. Her voice trembled.

Cameron’s lips parted to breathe more deeply while he could only stare at Abbi. With wet streaks down the front of her skirt, and her hair hanging haphazardly from a ribbon, she was no less beautiful, no less compelling than she’d ever been. The enchantment in her expression touched him, and he couldn’t restrain a degree of tenderness from seeping into his voice. “Ironic, don’t you think?”

Abbi was assaulted by so many different thoughts and emotions that she could only stare at him while no words would form in her mouth. Unnerved by the intensity of her feelings to the point that she feared losing control, she grabbed the crutch and moved quickly past him and up the stairs.

Cameron sighed and watched her hurry away, questioning his reasons for saying what he’d said—and feeling what he felt. Not wanting to examine the confusion building steadily inside of him, he resigned himself to getting through the forthcoming winter one hour at a time.

As Abbi made herself a more prominent part of the household, she noticed a subtle change come over Cameron. Along with the routine of duties she had set for herself, she would often sit near the fire to work on altering the clothes from the trunk, or to read from Cameron’s library. But it didn’t matter where she was or what she was doing, if she was in Cameron’s sight, his eyes followed her closely. Abbi felt uncomfortable as the object of his almost constant scrutiny, and the implications of anger and resentment she sensed in his silence. She told herself she should be grateful that he wasn’t being outwardly angry and rude as he had in the past. But she wondered if open confrontations would be easier than having to guess what he was thinking while his eyes followed her every movement. She sensed his spite and indignation, but at the same time he seemed intrigued with her, perhaps obsessed. Abbi couldn’t begin to understand his reasons for treating her the way he did. Still it made her angry. But he’d saved her life and kept her fed, and she certainly owed him. She’d come to avoid pondering any deeper meaning in any of this, when making sense of the situation was completely futile in light of his behavior. She felt certain it would be best to keep quiet and avoid him as much as possible.

At breakfast one morning Cameron surprised her by saying, “I think we can take that splint off now.”