Opal stepped through the doorway just as Matthias rose from his chair.
“Gute nacht, son,” Mr. S said. “Sleep well.”
Matthias nodded to the older man, then stepped toward Mrs. S. and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Schlaf' gut, mein liebling.” She patted his arm.
Opal had to swallow down a lump in her throat. Sleep well, my love. She knew those simple German words. Had heard Mrs. S. say them in her most tender moments.
Matthias straightened and turned to Opal, weariness cloaking every one of his movements.
She couldn’t help a soft smile. “I’m headed upstairs, too. I’ll walk with you.” From the looks of him, he might need her to catch him if he collapsed along the way.
He nodded.
She said her good-nights to the older couple and fell into step behind Matthias. At the bottom of the stairs, he motioned ahead. “After you.”
Part of her didn’t want to take the lead. He looked like she might need to stay behind to soften his fall. But she followed his direction and took the stairs ahead of him.
She couldn’t help glancing behind as she climbed, couldn’t help but notice the way his hand gripped the rail with each step. His knuckles white as though he were pulling himself up.
At the top, they reached his room first, and she stopped. “I’m glad you came back.” She could chastise him for pushing himself when one night of sleep wouldn’t have hurt anything. But that wouldn’t help him just now, and his effort should be acknowledged. Thanked.
He nodded. “I wasn’t planning to, but the farther away I went, the more I wanted to be here. By the time I changed my mind, I was several days ride away.” In the lantern light, his face seemed to soften, drawing her closer before she realized she’d taken a step.
“Thank you. It means much to us all to have you here.”
What was that expression that crossed his face? With the shadows, she couldn’t make it out. Especially when his features softened again so quickly.
“Opal, I…” He paused, and that expression came again.
She raised the lantern to see him better. But a dark line on his neck grabbed her focus. Was that…blood? “What happened to you?”
She closed the distance between them and reached to touch the spot. Blood dried over a nasty cut.
“’Tis nothing. Just a tussle with a hog when I was hunting.”
She raised her gaze to his face. “A hog did this to you?”
His mouth pinched. “Well, that cut is actually from an arrow.”
She raised the lantern even higher. “An Indian arrow?” She’d not actually seen Indians in these parts, but she’d certainly heard stories.
He chuckled. “Nay. A Viking arrow. My own, but the story is long enough to wait for tomorrow.”
She traced the cut again with the tip of her finger. “This needs to be tended. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
His hand closed around hers. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.”
Every breath stilled. Every thought fled her mind as she looked up into eyes that seemed to soak her in. Eyes that she could lose herself inside.
His other hand brushed her cheek, then settled there, its warmth bringing to life every part of her.
Yet still, his gaze held her in place. Until it lowered—just a little—to her lips. Was he going to kiss her? What kind of heaven that might be.
His face moved nearer, the steady warmth of his hands holding her secure—one on her cheek and the other holding her hand at his neck. Yet she wouldn’t have moved away. Couldn’t think of anything in life she wanted more than this kiss. Right now.
Her eyelids drifted closed as his lips brushed hers, the touch washing through her like warm liquid on a cold day. She barely recovered from the sensation when his mouth returned. This time she was ready and greeted the touch with a boldness she wouldn’t have thought she possessed. Yet she wasn’t prepared for the charge of lightning that reached all the way through her.
Sweet mackinaw. She was more delicious than he’d ever let himself imagine. He shouldn’t be kissing her. Not here and now. Not ever. But when she’d touched his neck, the sweet scent of her filling his head, he’d lost his last thread of strength to withstand her.
And now, the way she kissed him back, he couldn’t regret it.
This woman. Opal. The one whose strength he’d come to admire more than any person he’d let himself spend time with. She was not only good and strong and prettier than a mountain lake in full sunset, but she was here. In his arms. Kissing him back.
He forced himself to slow the kiss. To pull back, before he lost every bit of his good sense. She trusted him. And he wasn’t altogether sure he had the strength to keep from breaking that trust if he let himself go much farther.
With effort, he pulled back an inch, yet that was as far as he could go. Resting his forehead on hers, he breathed in the warmth of her breath, the feel of her skin under his hands. The essence of her.
“Matthias.” His name on her lips came out breathy, as though she were struggling to pull herself together, too.
He inhaled deeply, then eased back a little more. At least enough that he could see her face better, although the shadows from the dim lantern light shaded most of her features.
Yet even now, she was so beautiful. The way her blond hair feathered away from her face, that dainty pointed chin. Those eyes. They stared at him with an intensity that stirred a fresh longing in his chest.
He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
She held his gaze. “I’m not.”
Sweet hotcakes, but she was almost more than he could withstand. He straightened and gathered strength to back away. But her mouth beckoned for one final brushing. Heaven.
He did step back this time, stroked her cheek with his thumb once more, then relinquished his grip on her hand. “Go get some sleep.”
“Good night.” She gave a soft smile then slowly turned away and padded down the hall to her room.
Hopefully she would be able to sleep. It would be a long time before his pulse slowed enough to rest. No matter that he’d been awake for two days.
Opal stepped through the back door as a whiff of cold air blew in with her. Charmer charged inside, too, weaving right in front of her in that bothersome manner he’d recently begun. “Move, boy. Out of the way.”
He did shuffle to the side, but only after his wagging tail flapped against her skirts, tangling them in her limbs.
After finally shifting past the dog, she scurried forward. Mr. S. needed more supplies for his roasting of the pig in the yard, and he was waiting for her.
As she pushed into the kitchen, the sight there sent her skidding to a stop. Matthias stood beside the stove, hip propped against the work counter, one foot cocked. He held a mug of coffee in one hand and looked at her with his mouth tipped in a way that melted her all the way through. His face still sported a field of blond stubble, yet his green eyes were clear and bright…and giving her that look.
“Good morning.” She worked to pull herself together, to ignore the way every part of her reacted to him. Especially to that roguish smile.
Stepping farther into the room, she scanned her scattered thoughts for what Mr. S. had sent her for. A serving platter. Tongs. Fire poker.
“‘Mornin’.”
And just like that, his sleep-roughened voice made her stomach twirl and every thought slide out of her mind. She peeked up at him and met that rich gaze. “Did you sleep well?”
The contented, almost self-satisfied look on his face gave the answer for him. But he nodded anyway. “Feel like a new man.”
Did their kiss have anything to do with that? Or maybe it hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her. The way her pulse stuttered, even now, as the memory flooded back through her.
She dropped her gaze from his. “Mr. and Mrs. S. are outside roasting the pig. I just came in to retrieve a few things.”
“I’d best go out and see where I can help.”
She reached for the cloth covering the plate she’d set aside earlier. “Sit and eat first.”
“Do you have time to join me?” Did he sound hopeful, or was he just being nice? The last thing she wanted was for him to think he needed to patronize her just to solace her feelings.
She inhaled a sharp breath but didn’t meet his gaze. “I need to take these outside. They’re waiting for me.”
“All right. I’ll be there shortly.”
And with that, she escaped out the door. Hopefully, she’d gathered what Mr. S. needed. Because she’d not be going back while Matthias loitered there.
Maybe ’twas Matthias’s imagination, but Opal seemed to be avoiding him. All day, when he entered a room, she found a reason to leave it. Or else she buried her focus in her work. And now, as they sat around the hearth in the great room after dinner, she’d taken the chair farthest from him and kept her eyes glued to her sewing.
Was it possible that kiss hadn’t meant as much to her as it had to him? She certainly didn’t seem like a woman who gave her affection away freely. In fact, quite the opposite. She’d kept herself distant from the very beginning. Which should have been a blessing. He should have left it alone.
But he’d never been one to back down from a challenge. And quite honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to regret last night’s kiss. Not with Opal. ’Twas getting harder to deny how special she was. Special enough that he should get himself far away from her. For her sake.
Yet a growing part of him just couldn’t bring himself to leave.
“Matthias, tell us one of your sagas.” Mutti sat beside her husband on the sofa, working on her on own sewing, but she looked up over the rim of her spectacles as she spoke.
“Any particular one?” He had the perfect story in mind, but first he’d play along so it wouldn’t be obvious how much thought he’d put into this.
“Anything you choose.”
“All right, then.” He squinted as if he were trying to recall a tale. “Many years ago, back when the Vikings still warred to increase their kingdoms, stories were told of Odin who traveled the world on his flying, eight-legged white horse named Sleipnir.”
He glanced at Opal. Her head was cocked like she was listening, yet she kept her focus on the fabric in her hands.
“Odin led the Wild Hunt, a group who would fly over villages and countryside, delivering toys and candy. Children would fill their boots with straw for Sleipnir and set them by their hearths. Odin would slip down chimneys and fire holes, leaving his gifts behind for the good children. For those that hadn’t been so good, he left them a lump of coal.”
“And where did he get the toys and candy?”
He smiled at Mutti’s prodding. She’d heard the tale before, so she must be prompting for Opal’s sake.
“His elves made them. Everyone knew he was lord of Alfheim, home of the elves who dwelled deep within the earth. They loved their master so much, they worked all year to make magical toys and candy for him to give out. And of course, the coal.”
That finally earned him a glance from Opal. A rather dour look, but he’d take it. He returned a grin and a shrug. “I’m just telling the tale as it was said to me.”
“This eight-legged horse must have been something, indeed, to carry toys to all the Viking children.” Her tone was overly wondrous, almost patronizing.
He nodded. “Indeed. A favorite among all the children.”
“Hmm…” She turned back to her sewing, yet a little smile remained at her mouth.
And that was exactly what he’d been working for.
Mutti was the next to tell a story, the one about Sankt Nikolaus who kept a record in his book of which children were good, then brought them candy and treats on Sankt Nikolaus Day.
‘Twas always fun to hear the different stories about Christmas traditions, but they all knew what was coming next as Vatti reached for the Bible on the table beside his chair. Or…at least he and Mutti knew what was coming. Opal looked on with interest, that small smile still touching her mouth.
“The fables are fun to imagine, but lest we forget the greatest gift…” He flipped a page, then skimmed the text with his finger. “Here we are. ‘And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed…’”
The old familiar story soaked through him like a warm blanket, even as little nuances seemed to come alive. He could almost see the glory of the Lord shining around the shepherds, and the way that sight must have startled them. What might it have been like for plain, working-class men to be visited by God’s messenger? To be part of the Christ child’s story?
Too soon, Vatti finished the section and closed the book. He reached to take Mutti’s hand. “I zink I’m ready for sleep. Ze morning comes soon.”
She smiled back at him, giving a little glimpse of what she must have looked like as a young woman, in love with her Gunther.
“I’m ready to retire, too.” Opal tucked her sewing in the basket beside her chair, then rose, taking the lantern she always carried upstairs. “Good night, all.”
He bounced to his feet before he could stop himself. “I’ll walk you up.” After a quick good-night to the older couple, he took long strides to catch up with Opal. She’d certainly not waited for him.
Nor did she look back as she ascended the stairs ahead of him. If she meant to ignore him, she’d be disappointed. Maybe that kiss hadn’t affected her, but it had brought something to life for him. Could she mean to pretend it never happened? He had to find out. Even if asking made him more vulnerable than he liked. He’d not meant to kiss her, but now he had to do something about it.