CHAPTER: 30
CHAPTER: 30
Adira wanted him. She knew it with a sudden, urgent pang that left her breathless. But she knew it was
impossible. For Damien was a church minister, and she was a witch. She had to put him out of her
mind. She must. But she was unable to do that.
After the sermon and prayers concluded, the entire population of the Thunder Bay Sanctuary turned
out for the mid-day meal to welcome the new minister. It was held outdoors since there was no building
yet large enough to accommodate everyone for the meal.
Adira sat upon a blanket near a shade tree, putting out the food her aunt had brought along when she
felt his gaze on her again. And looking up, she saw him, Damien Walter, staring at her. He did not look
away when she met his eyes. Instead, he inclined his head very slightly and then turned to go back
inside the church.
He wanted her to come to him. He had made it quite clear. Adira's throat went dry as she rehearsed in
her mind what she would say to him. She had gone over it before, of course. Many times she had tried
to imagine what explanation she could devise should she meet anyone who had seen her being
hanged. But always, she had been imagining this man in her mind's eye. Secretly hoping, perhaps, that
she would see him again one day.
"I left my shawl inside," Adira told her aunt.
She only looked at Adira and winked. "Best go and find it, then, Adira. Before someone else does." Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
Adira thought her aunt had some clue, that she was truly going to speak privately with Damien. But no
hint of disapproval clouded her shining eyes.
Adira went inside and saw him sitting on a bench near the front of the church. Her hands trembling, she
went to him, stood before him, looking down, and thus having a view of the door beyond as well, lest
someone came in and overheard what Damien was going to say. Would he accuse her? Condemn
her? She did not know.
Lifting his eyes to hers, he whispered, "It is true, then, after all. You are alive."
Adira swallowed hard. More than anything, she did not wish to lie to him. Not to him. But her mother's
words seemed to ring in her ears. 'Trust no one. No one!' She could not tell him what she was.
Especially not while he wore minister's robes. Though it bothered her to deny the truth to him.
"You say such odd things, Pastor. Of course, I am alive," Adira said.
Holding her gaze, he shook his head slowly, wonder in his eyes. "I saw you die, girl."
Pretending shock, she lifted a hand to her breast. "You have mistaken me for someone else, then. I
have never died, else how could I be here?"
"Do not lie to me, Adira. Not to me." He rose suddenly, tall and strong and so close his body was nearly
touching hers. "I brought your dead body down myself, held your corpse in my arms, and dampened
your hair with my tears. I..." He broke off there, closed his eyes, and lowered his head as if he were too
overwhelmed to go on.
Adira was speechless. "You brought me down? You wept for me?"
He looked into her eyes, and she felt an incredible yearning build within her soul.
"You have haunted my dreams since that vile day, Adira Thompson. And now you stand here before
me, as beautiful and alive as you were the first time I looked into your eyes when you stood so bravely
upon the gallows."
Adira felt a stinging in her eyes, burning in her throat. She could not deny who she was, for he would
never believe her. No more than she would have believed him, had he told her that he was not that
young man.
"I would know you anywhere," he told her, and his hands clasped her shoulders, warm and firm. She
could feel him wanting her, just by his touch. And she wanted him, too. "I knew you on the ship," he
said. "You came to me then, when I was ill." He searched her face then. But she said nothing.
"Admit it to me, dammit! Have you any idea how many times I have doubted my own sanity since that
night? Have you?"
"I am sorry," Adira whispered. "Hope God forgives me? I am so sorry. Yes, Damien, I came to you that
night. I... they wanted to put you off the ship, they thought you carried the plague. I could not let them."
With one trembling hand, she touched his cheek. "No matter the cost, I could not let harm come to
you."
He nodded slowly, closing his eyes in relief. "I knew it was you. Even without the light. I would know
you even if I were blind, Adira."
"And I would recognize you, Damien," Adira murmured, lowering her head. "I... I never forgot how you
tried to help us."
"Then you will tell me the truth," he said softly.
She looked into his eyes... and she wanted to share this burden, this wonder, this miracle of what she
was with him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. And she lied to him.
"It was a trick and nothing more." She had to avert her eyes to force the words out. She could not lie to
him while looking into his eyes. "The dress I wore that day had a high neck. Do you remember?"
"Yeah, I remember everything. The dress was brown, with small yellow buttons up the front, all the way
to your chin. And your hair smelled of lavender," he said.
Adira felt warm inside. His voice was like a caress upon her very soul. "Beneath the dress, I wore a
steel collar. No one could see it. It protected my neck from the noose."
His eyes narrowed, probed her's. "And where did you get this collar? They said you had spent the night
with your neck and wrists locked in the stocks."
"A friend... he stole into the square and slipped it around my neck," she said.
Frowning at her, Damien shook his head. "No. Even with the collar, the fall could have broken your wee
neck." And his forefinger danced across her neck as he said it, sending shivers down her spine.
"I could have," Adira said. "But did not."
His eyes were piercing, as if he sought to see inside her mind, to the truth hidden there.
A/N: To be continued...