Chasing Shadows (22 page)

Sarah held up a hand before she could completely dismiss the notion. “Just think about it. And pay attention. That guy is giving off flashing neon signs like Vegas.”

A reluctant grin emerged. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Releasing a breath and seemingly exhaling the conversation with it, she gave Sarah her full attention. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I don’t really have much to report,” she said regretfully. “I’ve mostly been cooped up inside the castle.” Except for a romantic, moonlit outing beside the brook, but she didn’t want to share that. It had been a few perfect moments between her and Will, and if that was the last pleasant memory she had of him, then she wanted to hold onto it, untainted, in her mind. “But I did meet the professor,” she added after a pause, forcing her thoughts back to the present.

“You did?” Karen sounded surprised.

“Yeah. He was very nice and . . . scientific,” she answered carefully. She was relieved when Karen grinned.

“That he is.”

“You know,” Sarah began slowly, “I thought you mentioned that he led you to the Lord, but from what I gathered, science kind of sounds like a religion to him.”

Smiling sadly, Karen said, “He did lead me to the Lord. I was very lonely after my parents died and wasn’t used to being on my own most of the time, especially after the professor uprooted me from Maine to live with him in Oxford for a year. I ran away one night and broke into the church near our home to hide out.” Her expression turned dry. “Though what I didn’t know was that it was unlocked because a youth group was going on.”

Sarah grinned. “Of all the luck.”

Laughing, Karen nodded. “There was an older boy there—handsome, blond, entirely adorable—who later became the professor’s protégé. When he asked me to stay, I did, and it was the first place where I felt I belonged after my parent’s death. The rest is history.”

Sarah stared at her. There was a small pause before she said, “I think now I understand a little better why my and my mom’s relationship was a little foreign to you. I’m sorry you missed out on that.”

Karen shrugged one slender shoulder and plucked at a loose piece of hay in her wreath. “Don’t be. It might not be conventional, but I have someone who really does love me, even if he has trouble showing affection.”

Sarah poked her companion’s side with her elbow. “You have more than
one
person who loves you.” Karen smiled at the ground. “And the professor
did
want me to tell you to take care.” She tried not to wince at how callous the words sounded coming from her mouth.

Nodding, Karen asked. “Did you tell him who you were?”

“Yeah, but it only clarified what he was thinking. Apparently I seem ‘off’ to people out here.”

Karen grinned. “You do kind of have twenty-first century”—she waved her jazz hands in the air—“written all over you. They would have to be blind not to realize that you’re special.”

She’d meant it as a compliment, but Sarah felt a little putout, since she was doing her best to blend. “But I’ve
tried
to fit in with these people. What am I doing wrong?”   

Looking entirely amused, Karen answered, “For starters you’re tan, which I am a little jealous of. But it also has to do with the fact that you speak your mind freely for a girl in this era—they’re expected to be subservient and meek.” She chuckled. “And you have a mind of your own.”

Sarah threw her arms up in exasperation. “Great, so it’s my lack of filter that makes me stick out like a sore thumb.”

Karen draped a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “No, it’s the way that you’re so open and honest about everything. You call the world like you see it, no pretense. That approachability is rarely seen around here with all the expectations of convention. I think the fact that you’re an open book throws people who are wary to show their true selves.”

She squeezed Sarah’s shoulders gently. “But it’s not a bad thing to be different around here, and I think most people actually find your candidness refreshing. I know I really admire that about you. And Will certainly seems to like your open personality,” she added coyly.

The smile that had been growing on Sarah’s face vanished at those words. She played with the cord hanging from the front of her coat. After a prolonged silence, the arm resting on her shoulder tightened protectively.

“What’s that face?” Karen asked cautiously.

Sarah avoided her gaze and continued to wrap and unwrap the string around her finger. “We sort of had a falling out yesterday.”

When she didn’t volunteer any further information, Karen pulled her arm back and twisted around to face her. “What happened?”

Sarah’s sigh was heavy. “I found out something about him that kind of threw me.”

A thin red brow arched. “Such as?”

Sarah went back to playing with the tassel. It seemed easier to talk about it when she didn’t have to look anyone in the eye. “Something that he regrets and that shouldn’t even affect me, because it’s not like we’re an item.”

“But it still hurt,” Karen added gently.

Sarah gave a sheepish smile, and it all came spilling out in a jumbled rush. “Yes. And it’s not like it really has anything to do with me—I have no claim to him—but then I blew it out of proportion, and I said some things, and he said some things. And then I think he might have tried to patch it up, but I didn’t pick up on it, and it’s possible he thought I was just blowing him off.” Sarah buried her face in her hands and murmured, “He asked me if I wanted us to stay friends.”

“And you said yes,” Karen filled in quietly.

Sarah groaned. She spoke through her fingers. “I thought he was saying that it was our only option. But now that I think about the look on his face—” She turned distressed eyes to her friend. “He might have been asking if there was the possibility of more. And I blew it.” Plopping her chin on the palm of her hand, she sighed. “Now I have no idea where we stand.”

There was a pause, and Sarah knew Karen was processing. She said at last, “Wow. I’m really sorry, but it can’t possibly be over. I’ve seen how he looks at you whenever you’re around. I mean, come on.” She nudged her playfully. “You two had a steamy rumor circulating the first day you spent time together. Obviously, the townsfolk saw something, too.” She hesitated, and Sarah could almost feel her joviality fading. “Is what he did really so bad that you can’t get past it?”

“No.” Sarah sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “I don’t know. It was just really surprising and disappointing.”

They lapsed into silence then, each consumed with their own thoughts. “Do you want to change the subject?” Karen asked outright.

Sarah nodded her gratitude.    

“Okay, then. So how did you run into the professor?”

It was a relief to leave her troubling thoughts behind for a moment. Sarah answered, “I needed some medicine and was sent to find him. It was a complete shock when I realized who he was.”

Karen’s eyes lit with concern. “Medicine? Were you sick?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t for me. Damien Lisandro is a lord staying at the castle, and he was stabbed the other day. I’m kind of nursing him back to health right now.”

“Oh.” A pause. “The Spanish lord? You’re his nurse?”

“I know it sounds weird.” Sarah held up her hands to prevent any remarks. “But I was there when he was attacked, so I was sort forced into it. It’s actually a lot cushier than my maid duties, so no complaints from me.”

Karen looked curious, but instead she asked, “So, how are settling into your room in the servants’ quarters?” She cringed. “I hope it isn’t too bad.”

Sarah rubbed her thumb idly over the dress pattern on her lap. “Oh, um, I’m not there anymore.”

This caught her attention.

Karen pulled back to better see her face. “What?”

“Basically, Damien has to have a full-time caretaker, so he asked for my dismissal and had me moved into a better room.”

“Where?”

“In the guest wing, across from his room.” Sarah wished she had omitted the last part. “I have to change out his bandages a couple times a day, so it makes things a lot easier.”

Karen’s look could only be described as deeply troubled. “And that’s all he’s asked of you?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “
Yes
! It isn’t like that at all.” How many times had she said that the past day? “He’s the one who drove me out here today; he wanted me to be able to get out and see you. Damien’s sweet, and funny too. You’d like him, Karen.”

“Sounds like you already do.” It wasn’t an accusation, but the quiet observation rubbed Sarah the wrong way.

“Of course I do. He’s a great guy.”

Karen’s face was full of concern and understanding. Gently, she said, “I’m just saying that you haven’t known him very long and should be careful where you place your trust. I’ve noticed that you have a sort of ‘stray dog’ syndrome and tend to put your whole heart into what you’re doing. I don’t want you to confuse compassion for sentiment. Especially so soon after this misunderstanding with Will.”

“We’re just friends, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Sarah hesitated, biting her lip, and then admitted softly, “I’m myself with him—no games or trying to discern a hidden meaning in everything he says. It’s uncomplicated. Sometimes it’s nice to have a relationship that isn’t a constant battle, you know?” 

Karen smiled slowly, her face full of wisdom that Sarah had yet to comprehend. “I do. But I’ve also learned that the only relationships that really matter are the ones you’re willing to fight for. If it’s worth the effort, then that’s the test of a worthwhile relationship.” She let that resonate with Sarah, waiting for her to break the silence.

Sarah fixed her gaze on the ground, letting Karen’s words sink in. Could that be true? If so, then what was she really fighting for?

“I guess I need to figure out what’s important to me,” she said thoughtfully.

“Just keep it in mind,” Karen encouraged.

Sarah nodded. “I will.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Hey, when I was talking to the professor yesterday, he said that the discoloration in his eyes is a consequence from using the time watches so much, and he mentioned that you had experienced a side-affect too and said that I should ask you about it. Do you have a weird birthmark, or something? A third eye that I should know about?”

“Oh.” Karen withdrew, and Sarah started to wonder if she had been too prying and should have just left it alone. “It’s just that with how much I traveled, it affected me more than the rest. And, well, I can’t have children,” she blurted out.

Her sudden admission startled Sarah, and her head whipped up in surprise. “What?”

Karen shrugged casually, but Sarah could tell she was more torn up about it than she let on. “Jumping through time so much messes with your body; we aren’t made to split into particles like that and reassemble properly. I knew something was wrong—the doctor just confirmed it.” Tears had formed in her eyes, and Sarah squeezed her hand. Karen seemed to cling to it for strength. “That was part of the reason why I’ve never considered anything with Seth. He deserves a family; I can’t rob him of that.”

Sarah suddenly recalled a conversation around the Jones table her first day back. Seth had made some off-hand remark about having loads of children to help him work the land someday. At first, Sarah had wondered at the pain that had flitted across Karen’s features at his seemingly innocent comment, but now she understood. “Don’t you think you should leave that up to him?” she asked gently.

Karen’s lips tipped almost imperceptibly as she met her gaze. “You know, you’re wiser than you give yourself credit for, Sarah Matthews.”

She tried to look superior. “I just hate to intimidate people with my vast knowledge.”

Karen choked out a laugh past her tears. Wiping a hand across her cheek to collect the moisture, she said, “And you don’t have to worry about something that extreme happening to you. It only occurred because I took so many trips before the machine was stabilized. It’s much safer now. No threat of becoming sterile,” she joked lamely. Sarah didn’t smile.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m just—I’m sorry that this happened to you.” She wished she could say something to make it right, but she knew Karen didn’t expect that from her.

“Not everyone is supposed to have kids,” she said softly.

“I guess not,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “But, Karen, when you and Seth get married—” She held a defensive hand in front of her face when she received a reproachful look. “Okay, when you marry some random guy whom we’ve never met”—Karen grinned at her flippant remark—“and you two want to have kids, then maybe you will.”

“But the doctor said—”

“Oh, who cares about his opinion?!” Sarah burst out, louder than she’d intended. Lowering her voice, she said, “I believe in miracles, and if God has in mind for you a future with a husband and a van, er,
wagon
full of kids, then what’s one human’s opinion?”

Karen’s eyes had filled again, this time with appreciative tears. Her smile was wobbly and genuine. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Returning her smile, Sarah said, “I meant it, too. I believe in the miracles and fairytales and happy endings that I read about all the time. Why should your story be any different?”