The Lightkeeper's Ball (20 page)

E
IGHTEEN

W
HEN
H
ARRISON RETURNED
, he found the lady sitting on a log by the fire. The flicker of the flames threw shadows and light across her face. He stood under the concealing sweep of an evergreen and watched her for a moment.

The name Esmeralda suited her. Her dark brown hair cascaded down, obscuring her face. He couldn’t decipher her. One minute he was sure she felt the attraction between them, and the next she was refusing to tell him her first name, as though he was beneath her.

He stepped into the clearing. “You should try to prop your ankle during the night.”

“I will.”

Darkness closed in fast, obscuring her features and the clearing. “Let me help you.” He found her hand in the shadows. Her fingers closed around his, and he pulled her up, close enough for the scent of lilac to waft to his nose. He could have leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. For a crazy moment, he was tempted to do just that. What would she do if he did? Slap him? Scream? Probably. She considered him little more than a servant, and he didn’t dare find out her response for fear of frightening her.

“This way,” he said softly, leading her to the bed of boughs. The smell of crushed pine was sweet and pungent as he helped her onto the soft heap. “I’m sorry I haven’t a covering for it.”

“I shall be fine.”

The branches rustled, but he couldn’t see her expression. He dragged a log close. “Prop your ankle on this.”

More rustling. “I can’t find it,” she said.

“Allow me.” He patted the bed of pine until he found her foot, then guided it to the log. “Rest well. Things will appear much brighter in the morning.” He moved to his own bed and lay down. The fragrance of pine enveloped him. Though he hadn’t thought he could sleep, his eyelids grew heavy.

When he awakened, he wasn’t sure at first where he was or what had alerted him. Sitting up, he strained to see in the darkness. The moon had come out from behind the clouds and made the mist curling through the clearing glow with an almost unearthly light. He glanced over at Lady Devonworth and saw her sitting up on her bed. Then the sound that must have awakened him came again. A snuffle and a scrape.

He scrambled from the branches. If only he had a gun or some kind of weapon. The noise was surely from an animal. Seizing the branch she had used for support, he whacked it onto the bed of pine so it made a crackling sound. “Get out of here!”

The animal roared. He realized he was facing a bear. With a stick. Lady Devonworth screamed, and he leaped between her and the beast. “Get out of here!” he shouted again, waving the stick in the air.

A hulking giant of an animal moved into a shaft of moonlight. A black bear. Harrison stood as tall as he could and waved his arms, shouting all the while. He debated about whacking the beast across the nose with the stick, but before he decided to escalate the encounter, the bear dropped to all fours and loped into the woods.

The arm holding the stick went weak, and he dropped it to his side. “It’s gone,” he said.

The next moment Lady Devonworth was in his arms with her face burrowed against his chest. “I was so frightened,” she whispered. “I tried to call out to you but I couldn’t speak.”

Her hair was so soft under his hands as he smoothed her unruly locks. “We’re going to be all right,” he said, pitching his tone to a soothing murmur. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she trembled in his arms.

They stood entwined together for several long minutes. Harrison strained to hear any sound of the animal’s return but heard only crickets and the hoot of an owl. When she finally drew away, he wanted to protest, but he let his arms drop instead.

He thrust his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “You should get some rest.”

“What if it comes back?”

“I’ll stand guard.”

“You need sleep too.”

“I’m wide-awake after hearing that bear roar.” He forced a laugh, then grinned when her laughter tinkered out.

“Yelling at a bear.” Her voice was amused. “I don’t know what you thought that stick would do.”

“I hoped it would make me look bigger than I was,” he said.

“It appears you were successful.” Her voice took on a husky quality. “I . . . I don’t think I can sleep unless you are close.”

“I’ll be right here.” He stepped past her and dragged the bundle of pine branches next to hers. “I’m not going to sleep though.”

“You can at least rest. With the branch in your hand, of course.” Her tone held a smile.

The boughs rustled as she settled back onto them. There was enough moonlight to see her face turned toward his. He sank onto his bed with the stick clutched in his hand.

She stretched out her arm, groping for his hand in the dark.

He grasped her cold fingers in a comforting clasp. “Are you chilled?”

“Yes. The mist is damp.”

“Would you allow me to hold you, little Esmeralda? I promise to be a gentleman.”

She laughed but didn’t answer for a long moment, so he assumed the answer would be no, but she sighed and her fingers tightened on his. “Just a little while until I’m warmer. I’m so cold.”

He crawled over closer to her and slipped his arm under her head. She rolled onto her side and snuggled against him as though she’d done it a thousand times. The tugging in the region of his heart was so strange. And unwelcome. She’d made it clear she had no romantic interest in him. Why then did he allow himself to hope they might have a future?

For a moment, Olivia thought she was snug in her own bed. Then she felt the stick of pine needles and the sound of birdsong. The stream gurgled off to her right.

“Good morning, Essie.”

She turned toward the voice. Harrison was sitting at the stream with a makeshift fishing rig. “Essie?”

“Short for Esmeralda.”

She had to smile. “Good morning,” she said, sitting up. “What time is it?”

He pulled his pocket watch out and opened it. “Nearly eight.”

He was staring, and she pushed her hair out of her face. She must look a sight. She undoubtedly had pine twigs and dirt in her hair. “How long have you been up?”

“About an hour.” He gestured to the fish on the bank. “I’m about to cook our breakfast. Hungry?”

Her stomach rumbled in answer. “Starving. Can I help?”

“Know how to clean fish?”

She grimaced. “No, and I’m not particularly keen on learning.”

His laughter boomed out and echoed in the treetops. She smiled back at him, then stretched. He was charming, even with twigs in his hair. “Was there really a bear here last night?”

He sobered and stood with the fish in his hand. “I saw the tracks this morning. He was big. But there’s no sign of him now.”

A fire crackled in the center of the clearing. Stones surrounded it. Olivia tried to stand, but hot pain gripped her ankle. She grabbed for the branch beside her bed. Even propping herself on it only allowed her to hobble a few steps before she had to rest.

Harrison watched her with a grim expression. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere today.”

She struggled to hold back the tears. “We can’t spend another night here. People really
will
talk. And what if the bear comes back?”

“Don’t borrow trouble. We’ll get you well and get out of here.” He stooped and lifted her in his arms.

As he carried her toward the fire, she remembered last night. His compassion and gentleness. His courage against the bear. It wouldn’t do to dwell on that too much.

He set her on the log. “After breakfast I’m going to put your ankle in the cold running water. We need to get that swelling down.”

How was she going to get through another day alone with him? She watched him prepare the fish. Before long, the aroma of sizzling food mingled with the scent of wildflowers and pine.

He handed her some fish on a shaved spit. “Sorry there isn’t a better way to serve it. I had to make do with what we had.”

She took the stick. “I’m impressed you know how to do this. Haven’t you always lived in a city?”

He nodded. “But my uncle used to take me on wilderness treks. We lived off the land. You never forget that stuff.”

She bit into the juicy fish. The smoky flavor filled her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. “That’s the best fish I’ve ever eaten.”

He grinned. “You were just hungry.”

She devoured her portion of the trout, then licked the juice from her fingers in a most unladylike way. Out here under trees that touched the sky, she was a different person from the woman who walked the streets of New York. She became aware that Harrison was watching her. Her hair was on her shoulders, and she had no idea what had become of her combs and pins. It would have to stay unbound. There was an intimacy in that, making her throat dry when she met his gaze.

He stood. “Let’s soak your ankle awhile.” He lifted her again.

She curled an arm around his neck. Being so close to him was nearly unbearable, but she couldn’t quite figure out why. He was just a man. She’d met many men. Though her head told her this was so, her heart seemed to be telling her something else. When he set her beside the stream, she leaned down to unlace her boot and hide the heat in her face. Her fingers fumbled over the laces, but she managed to get the boot off. She wasn’t about to raise her skirt in his presence though.

“I’ll leave you to soak it,” he said. “I’m going to gather firewood for the night. Let me get your crutch in case you need it.” He retreated to the fire, then returned with the stick. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

When his steps faded, she eased up the hem of her skirt, took off her stocking, then put her throbbing foot into the stream and gasped as the icy water encased her ankle. If she could just get the swelling down enough to get out of here, she could endure anything. The cold soon numbed her skin. The sun was warm on her face as it came out from behind storm clouds. She leaned back and let herself feel the sensations. When had she last relaxed to this degree? In the city she was always rushing to the next appointment or concerned with answering the mail.

She was always trying to live up to expectations. Now her reputation was about to be in ruins. How would she ever get past that?

When she could stand the cold water no longer, she pulled her foot out, let it air dry, then put her stocking and boot back on. The swelling seemed to be better, but when she tried to stand again, the pain was just as intense. She’d never be able to walk out of here today.

With the help of her makeshift crutch, she hobbled back to the bed and eased onto it so she could elevate her foot. If she did everything right today, maybe they could get out of here tomorrow.

Leaves crackled to her left, and she saw Harrison emerge with his arms full of logs. He dropped his load by the embers of the morning’s fire. “Any better?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I managed to get here, though.”

“I thought about making a litter that I could drag. I’m just not sure how far we’re going to have to trek to find people.”

She shook her head. “I’m not convinced I could endure the bouncing. It throbs whenever it’s not elevated.”

He squatted beside her. “I think we need to move our camping spot. We are right by the stream, which is convenient, but there are bear tracks and mountain-lion tracks all around that stream. They’ll be back.”

Her chest tightened and she glanced at the dark forest. “But where can we go to be safe?”

“I found a dry cave a few yards that way.” He pointed to their right. “It’s still close enough that we can fetch water, but it’s out of the animals’ path to the stream. I’ve already tossed some pine boughs together for bedding. All I have to do is move us and our things over there.”

“But what if it’s a den for a mountain lion or bear?”

He shook his head. “I checked it out thoroughly. No spoor around, just some bat droppings.”

Her skin prickled.
“Bat droppings?”

He grinned. “No bats sleeping in there now. We’ll be fine.”

“Can we stay here for now?”

He glanced around. “Bears are active in the daytime too. I think we’d better move over. You wait here while I move our few things. I’m going to leave the food hamper here though. There’s nothing of value left, and the smell might attract animals. That was probably what drew the bear last night.”