Chasing Shadows

by Ashley Townsend

  “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?”

  Will’s own mouth quirked. “What else?”

  Shaking her head, her smile faded. “That sounds delicious, but I don’t think I’m quite up to eating before the sun rises. And I should be getting back,” she added regretfully, more than a little uneasy over leaving this small zone of comfort.

  He looked reluctant as he nodded and turned toward the door, though he didn’t move from the spot. Cocking his head over his shoulder, Sarah caught the boyish shyness and excitement that she so rarely was allowed to see. “There’s something I would like to show you first.”

  She worried her lower lip, contemplating, and then she gave an assenting bob of her head. Rubbing the back of his neck, Will clarified, “It’s outside.”

  “Oh. I’m not sure I’m dressed for that.” Peeling the covers back, she pretended not to notice the spare blanket he had used, nor the indentation where his body had been.

  Will averted his eyes as she adjusted her skirt to cover her legs. He went to the cedar chest and extracted a black cloak and an extra pair of boots, throwing some leather gloves on top of the stack. He held them out to her in offering. “They are a little big, I know, but we won’t be going far.”

  Curious, Sarah donned the cloak and sat on the bed while she laced up the over-sized boots. She stood and took a few wobbly steps, knowing she must look like a lumbering zombie. Still feeling a little embarrassed over her tirade last night, despite his assurances, she grinned up at him in an attempt to smooth the tense atmosphere in the cabin. “You’ve got big feet, Taylor.”

  He shrugged, though there was relieved humor in his indigo eyes. “They’ve served me well.”

  “Scaling walls?” She was no longer teasing, just genuinely interested.

  “Yes,” he answered honestly.

  Curling her toes in the ample space, Sarah eyed him. “Because you got into my room rather easily.”

  His lips tipped. “That was hardly the first time I’ve snuck into the castle, as you well know.”

  Before she could get caught up in the easy banter she was rarely used to between them, she asked, “Didn’t you want to show me something?”

  Nodding, Will led her from the house and around the back, trudging slowly through the snow to give her a cleared place to step. It was difficult to see his footsteps with the pines and gnarled forest trees preventing the early morning light from brightening the path.

  Keeping her eyes focused on his footsteps, Sarah lifted her knees high as she clomped through the snow behind him, sometimes having to jump to reach the path his footsteps had cleared when the snow became too thick. Eyes focused on the next patch of compressed snow, she missed the fact that her companion had stopped and launched herself right into his back, nearly toppling them both.

  Will regained his balance and spun around to right her. “Steady.” Face heating, she looked up at his amused expression.

  “Why did you stop?” She looked around. There wasn’t anything there.

  In answer, he pointed a finger toward the sky. Sarah followed the line and glanced up at the enormous beech tree, which was a huge mass of low, reaching branches and gnarled limbs stretching far overhead.

  He turned to her, his face partially shrouded in the early dawn light. “How are you at climbing?”

  She hesitated. “Not nearly as good as you. Is it up there—whatever you want to show me?”

  “Do you think you will be able to climb in those boots?”

  Hugging herself to stave off the morning chill, she shot a wary glance up the massive length of trunk and was reminded of all the trees she and Lilly had climbed together. Granted, those trees were much, much smaller, but it couldn’t be that different. Releasing a breath, she said, “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Will helped her onto the first branch and then pointed out the knobs in the ancient trunk, showing her how to jam the toe of her boot in to give her a little leverage until the next available branch. It was slow going at first as Sarah tried to awkwardly get a foothold with her feet slipping around inside her boots as they navigated the tangled limbs. But Will stayed beside her and showed her how to lean against the branches to relieve some of the strain from her arm muscles. “You’ll tire quickly if you carry your weight all the way,” he warned.

  Biting her lip in concentration, she watched his feet and mimicked his confident movements. Sometimes her glove would slip or a boot would become trapped in a jagged notch, but after a few minutes of gracelessly plugging along behind Will, she began to feel more confident and found herself enjoying the thrill of climbing so high.

  When Will glanced over at her to see how she was fairing, she motioned him ahead. “You know where we’re going—you lead.”

  With a nod, he took off, his movements becoming quicker and more precise as he ascended. Mesmerized by his lithe movements, Sarah paused to watch, sometimes losing sight of him as he ducked through the patches of fresh sunlight that snuck between the limbs. Her stomach constricted at the sight of him so in his element. This was where he belonged, in the forest where he experienced the kind of freedom on which he seemed to thrive. Suburban Oklahoma could never satiate that need for independence.

  The thought surprised her. Though she hadn’t even been aware that she was considering it, after seeing him like this, Sarah knew she could never ask him to give up this kind of freedom and leave Serimone behind. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

  But despite the ache building in her chest, she felt a soft, reluctant smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she watched him swing from branch to branch. The difference between this carefree Tarzan and the reserved Will to whom she had first been introduced was am
azing. Her smile spread: The man was in love with this land.

  Will chose that moment to glance down at her, as if just now realizing how far ahead he had climbed, and caught her smile. His mouth curved in a knowing way, and he began to descend with strides a tad more boastful than before.

  Caught staring, Sarah tried to look nonchalant, resting her back against the branch behind her like she had been taking a break and just happened to look up at that moment.

  He slipped gracefully down and landed on the limb opposite. “I thought you were behind me,” he commented, grinning coyly. He gripped the branch above both their heads with one hand, lazily swinging his body toward her and away, coming close enough that Sarah could touch him with little effort.

  Folding her arms across her chest, she pretended to ignore his playfulness and turned her eyes to the spot where he had been. “I saw a squirrel and thought it might give you rabies.” She shrugged, feigning disinterest, though he wasn’t so easily fooled.

  Will’s low chuckle brought her head around. He used his momentum to swing himself onto the limb closest to her, sending a shower of white into the air. He ducked to grip the branch above her head, boxing her in as he leaned forward. Though he didn’t appear to realize how close he was, Sarah was very aware of his nearness and sucked in a breath. His eyes were brighter and more alive than she had ever seen them as they searched her face, his chest rising and falling from his climb. “Rabies?” he asked, confused humor lacing his question.

  “It’s—” She swallowed, her eyes inadvertently drawn to the rapid pulse just below his ruddy cheeks. “You know what—never mind.”

  He didn’t seem to be aware that the carefree grin still graced his lips. Pulling back, Will ducked under the branch again. “It isn’t far,” he said. When she hesitated, he reached a hand out to her, puffs of air escaping his lips in little white clouds that faded in the air between them. “I’ll stay with you.”