CHAPTER EIGHT: A MAN, A DREAM
A gust of wind beat him furiously, lifting up the plaids of his kilt and shamelessly revealing his strong and muscled legs which tightened against the flanks of his mount. As if meant to be a signal, his hands, of long and firm fingers, took the reins confidently, urging his horse to a wild gallop amidst the naked and wide plain that unfolded, unsubmissive, before his eyes.
The speed he reached barely allowed him to breathe, but the sensation of freedom that invaded his soul paid back for the dangerous ride. He felt his figure cutting through the air, each cell of his body was in tension, his whole self whipped into a frenzy by the effort: his cheeks blushing due to the exercise, his agitated breathing, his gaze shining and fervidly focused on the horizon, full of that deep delight of the one that enjoys the present without thinking of the future, thirsty of the instant moment, vibrating intensively with each heartbeat.
Fast centaur, two beings: man and animal, building up a sole entity, composing a beautiful picture full of sensuality, virility and energy. The hooves the stud echoed the rhythmical pant of the horseman; the muscles of both bodies carved against the sunshine, sweaty from the intensity of the ride; a smile in the dashing male's face reverberating in a funny grimace on the lips of the beast.
I am feeling alright… At last, I am feeling alright. Free. As a white sheet, virgin, ready to be rewritten… Life is too precious a gift to be left to waste. I don't have any right to be defeated by affliction. I have to be strong; I have to fight for my own happiness. I need to have faith in myself. If my dreams are strong enough, they will end up becoming true. And I will be able to touch the stars with my fingertips…
The sun rays of noontime blinded his vision momentarily. He backed away the animal till it reached a martial trot, and caressed the auburn mane with his expert hands, trying to calm the horse down as he peered into the distance. Before his eyes stood thousands of acres which were dedicated to sheepherding. Further away he distinguished fields kept for grain farming. Cornfields shone as they were illuminated by the sun, as jewels exposed in the open to be admired by any attentive eye. Albert sighed with pleasure, charmed by the beauty of the scene. He considered himself a mundane man, a thirsty traveler, but in the depths of his heart he knew that he could never love any place more than that piece of land of Michigan…
William H. Andrew the first, his ancestor, had been a youngster full of dreams and projects who abandoned his native Scotland in the mid seventeenth century to find the American Dream of the first pilgrims. Nevertheless he had never been able to forget his homeland, the wild and abrupt Highlands where he was born. The love for the land and the characteristic Scottish pride were his legacy to his descendants, and William A. Andrew, wasn't an exception.
His thirst for freedom, his rebel spirit, and his inadequacy to adapt to pre-established rules were but a reflection of the indomitable soul of his predecessors.
"How do you think Congo will be, Godo?" he questioned his young stud with a smile as he dismounted. "I have read a lot about that land. It is said to be a land of contrasts, where the dryness of the savanna combined with the bright presence of thick and exotic forests; a land where sudden rain showers can turn a desert into a paradisiacal orchard; a place where, each sunset, the sun slopes surrounded by polychromatic lights and where the mythical Green Ray of Scottish legends can be seen grazing the crowns of the trees just at that ephemeral instant when the golden star disappears under the horizon".
The horse stomped in answer as the rider gave some tender pats on his loins. It was then he realized the animal wasn't accustomed to such rides, and not wanting to abuse him, decided to make a stop before continuing towards the Westons Villa. He had been invited to attend a hunt held to celebrate Montgomery's older daughter's engagement, and despite the fact that attending social events wasn't listed in his plans, he had felt obligated to accept so as not to offend his old tutor and friend.
Taking Godo by the reins, he walked by his side till he found some shelter under the thick branches of a solitary tree. Albert let Godo gnaw some scattered herbs as he dried his sweaty flanks. For a brief moment he felt the gaze of the animal fix on him, his intelligent eyes expressing a mute message of trust, flooding him with the kind of warmth he hadn't felt since his beloved Ruano died.
Clouded by a nostalgic sensation, the youngster leant his face against the neck of the animal feeling his powerful heartbeat.
"You are a noble beast, Godo", he whispered.
The ears of the horse moved towards the direction of his voice and for a moment stood up, as if filled by some strange understanding. Albert tickled the horse just under the bit and slipped a lump carrot into Godo's mouth, which was received with a delightful neigh. The animal was only three years old, but he was vigorous and had been well trained by Archie, who often visited Lakewood for that purpose. Albert always refused to acquire mounts for himself and the three that occupied the stables of Lakewood belonged to his nephew.
Having finished caressing the horse's neck, he examined the surroundings, trying to locate his position and route. His sharp observation skills led him to discover a familiar hillock behind which, if his memory didn't betray him, he would find a path leading directly to his destination. Relieved, he sat down.
To celebrate such occasion at the Westons he had decided to wear the traditional Andrew garments, and now he doubted it had been a good idea. He felt oppressed by the heat. Mrs. Parsons, the governess, had taken great pains to keep all the clothing pieces impeccable even if he hadn't worn them for a year. Last time had been on occasion of the Mass that was celebrated each year for Stear and Anthony.
The young man unzipped his jacket and took off his sweaty shirt, then lazily, layed down with his hands behind his nape. His slightly tanned face made the magnificent magnetic blue of his eyes shine; his eyebrows, long and obscure, gave him an angelic expression only modified by the sensuality of his lips, full and fleshy, folded into a half smile, fascinating and seductive.
Despite his slenderness, all his muscles had gotten a rotund definition over the last days as, besides studying, he had spared some time to prepare physically for his projected trip. Riding, swimming, athletics, climbing… He had practiced those sportive disciplines during his life and had resumed his training. His first experience in the African continent had taught him the importance of physical condition for survival on hostile conditions.
On my first trip to Africa I rarely dared to abandon the research community I lived into. I feared a lot for my own safety, for the people who depended on me. This time it will be different. I have solved all my issues and if something happened to me… Well, if something happened, nobody would be gravely damaged because of my absence.
Albert had stopped fooling himself and had started to face reality, dispassionately, especially after his conversation with George, who had restored his confidence in the possibilities of his new horizons. The idea of separation, as days passed by, seemed less traumatic and painful. The years he had passed loving Candy seemed an evanescent illusion nowadays. Somehow, Candy's infatuation for Terry no longer bothered him. She was an adult, capable of making her own decisions. If her choice was to resign herself to live eternally wallowed in her dreams, he could do nothing to prevent it.
Candy had stopped being his pupil. Thinking about the past he felt that, more than once, he had meddled in her life even without her needing him, what is more, without her request. He had believed to be able to guess her needs, to know her better than herself, but he was completely mistaken. He had reached a point where he doubted that his influence on her on the last times had been really beneficial. He had to set her free. Not only for her own sake, also for his. He had taken a long time to realize she was independent; she was already ready to live her life without interferences. Now he had the opportunity to mend this mistake. Both were ready to start again separately.
Despite the fact he had planned his trip mainly considering that the distance could help him forget his feelings, circumstances had revealed him that separation was the only way out for both. They had reached a point of no return. Things could never return to how they were in the past. It was futile pretending the opposite. Each of them had to take its own path and try to find happiness.
He had already taken the necessary legal measures to guarantee her a substantial income, by transferring her, for example, the property of Lakewood and its neighborhood. Even though he loved the house and its forests, it was a place full of painful memories, many of them attached to her. It was nothing but fair that she became the owner of the land that had meant so much to her. He could always return to the hunter's hut, as he still maintained its ownership.
For a while, he remembered old Miss Pony and charming Sister Mary's happy expressions when he visited them to share the news. The last important wealth transference that remained before his departure: the construction of a new and modern House for Orphans with the most updated innovations plus the creation of a Children's Hospital nearby.
Candy, I sincerely hope one day you can find true happiness. I couldn't manage to erase the scars in your heart as I had wished, but I believe I have managed to give you some aim to live for. I know that focusing your efforts in a project that fills you with enthusiasm will be the best medicine. I am sure that a day, not far away, that special man with whom you can share everything will come to your life. And he will make your smile return forever…
Contrary to what he expected, he didn't feel the slightest hint of jealousy when his mind evoked that image. He knew he would be happy for her when she found happiness again, even if that meant he would find it with someone else. He felt his soul was healing. Very soon he would be ready to go back to Chicago and face her without remorse.
* * *
The Weston's summer residence was cozy and had a familiar atmosphere. The entrance led to a paved path, by whose sides grew flower beds and fruit trees that gave nice shadow in the hottest evenings. In the distance, a pond surrounded by rosebuds stood out, near which they had built a magnificent window balcony, heir of the Victorian style, from which one could admire the valley over which it stood, solemn and protective.
The main entrance to the villa was open and Albert, slave to habits, entered without announcing himself. Monty wasn't a friend of formalisms and used to hold meetings that had nothing in common with the pomposity of the Chicago gatherings. The inside of the house was decorated with exquisite taste.
"Welcome", the old man greeted him in the distance. As soon as he saw Albert, he walked hurriedly towards him and gave him a warm embrace.
Albert showed a wide smile and returned the gesture effusively.
"The pleasure is entirely mine," he replied with sincerity, "especially on such a joyous occasion like this one. I don't know what you are going to do with your life when you three daughters marry, Monty. You are going to miss terribly your role as a chaperone."
"Of course not, my boy", his host joked as he took Albert by the arm and led him to the principal chamber. "But I won't deny that it is very hard raising three beauties with all the pampering of the world and letting some other steal them from your household. I am sure that Melissa won't take too long at the time of following the steps of her older sister… At least, Cecilia is still too young to realize there are better men than his dad".
Monty and Albert both entered into a wide room filled with luminosity where small groups of people chatted lively. Albert discovered some known faces and prepared some easy answers in his mind for some of the formal questions he didn't doubt people would pose to him. Though his trip to Africa hadn't been officially announced, he knew the news had been filtered around among certain circles. As much as he loathed conventionalisms, he couldn't forget he was the head of one of the most influential families of the country and that the success of the family businesses depended a great deal on his efficiency as a public relations agent.
Nearly all the guests wore elegant and comfy riding clothes, heirs of the British fashion. Top hats lined with black velvet, sober long jackets and tight pants, the men; elegant berets adorned with pheasant feathers, waisted bolero jackets and long cotton skirts patterned with joyful Scottish checks, the women.
Monty was about to introduce him to an important ship-owner from Saint Francisco when a vivacious feminine appearance jumped and hugged his neck.
"Albert! Albert! You have come! I am so happy to see you again!"
He took her by the waist and spun around.
"Is this not little Melissa! As impulsive as always!"
She moved away from him, annoyed and sulky, as her father witnessed them both, amused.
"I am not little Melissa anymore, Albert… I am eighteen years old already. I am a woman, if you hadn't noticed… What is more, you didn't attend my coming-out. I feel really disappointed with you".
He winked at her and lifted her chin with his hand.
"Now that you mention it… It is true you aren't a child anymore", he observed her with a thoughtful expression.
You have a new pair of funny wrinkles".
She sighed loudly and stepped backwards, seeming angry.
"You are impossible, Albert".
He answered with a gallant smile that emphasized the beauty of his appearance and she knew she could be able to forgive him everything.
"Daddy, may I steal him from you for a while?" she asked with her honeyed accent, sure of her dad's answer." I would like to play the hostess for Albert. It is time I already prove to him that I am no longer the child he remembered".
Without waiting for any answer, she took him by his arm and nearly dragged him. He could only shrug and ask for Monty's forgiveness before he was swallowed into her hurly-burly.
Enthusiastic to cause a good impression on him, she displayed all her charms as she kept on introducing him to all the guests, the majority were disconnected from the fashion social circles of Chicago. There were some old gentlemen, intimate friends of the Westons, a group of Monty's daughters´ young admirers and some close female friends of both the girls, Laura and Melissa. He was relieved she was introducing him as an old friend of the family, rather than as the Andrew's heir. Despite that, he was convinced that before the day ended, his lineage would be guessed and he would be condemned to witness more than a dozen languid and suggestive glances from most of the females at marriageable age.
George was right. He should find someone to share his life with to avoid those hateful situations. Being a famous millionaire, finding candidates wasn't that hard, but meeting one that could fall in love with the person rather than with the fortune seemed rather odd. He guessed the only alternative was marrying with a female as rich as him, or not marrying at all.
He was talking with Laura Weston and her fiancé, congratulating them both, when someone pulled his sleeve, diverting his attention.
"Hey! Why are you using that strange skirt? You are a boy, right?"
Albert looked down and met a beautiful small person that observed him in marvel with her radiant green eyes. He recognized her immediately, Cecilia Weston.
"I believe we haven't been formally introduced yet, have we?" he answered all serious as he knelt down before her. "My name is Albert, but who is this charming lady with whom I have the pleasure to be talking to?"
The child, proud to be treated in equal terms by an adult, smiled brightly towards him, "I am Cecilia Weston, and I am eight years old. How do you do?" she bowed formally to him.
"How do you do, Miss Weston? It is always delightful to meet ladies so charming at a party", he answered kissing her hand.
The child couldn't avoid a shriek of immense pleasure. With his words, Albert had just won in her heart, the prize as the most sympathetic, good-looking and attentive gentleman of the party. She was determined to make him her partner at the party, fighting the rest of the ladies if necessary.
"Would you like to come to see my pony? Her name is Lucille and she was born two months ago. Daddy doesn't allow me to ride her yet, he says she is still too young to bear my weight", she invited him excitedly as she kept on pulling his sleeve.
"Don't be impolite, Cecilia", Laura pointed out. "Stop bothering our guests. It would be best if you were with your governess. She must be worried looking for you".
The child wrinkled her nose as she listened to her sister´s harsh words, and tried to hold her weeping. Tears fought to escape her eyelids and not wishing anybody to see her, ran away without looking back.
I hate her. She thinks she is the most important because she is going to get married. Everybody has to be paying attention to her, and to her only. I am sick of her. I hate her. I hate her. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was only asking Albert about his skirt. She is foolish, foolish, foolish.
Cecilia hid her face in her hands when she realized she couldn't hold her tears any longer. She was somewhere in the garden. She was still running and couldn't see the path clearly. Finally she stopped, her breathing irregular, exhausted.
"You are very fast being this little…"
The masculine voice startled her, she turned around so quickly that she almost tripped over. Albert took her in his arms.
"I don't know why you have made me run this fast. Weren´t we going to visit Lucille?" he smiled handing her a handkerchief.
She took it and dried her tear stained face.
"Shall we?" he offered her his hand.
Cecilia didn't make Albert beg again and led him to the stables. For when they arrived, she had already regained her good humor and happy talk. As they entered, she released her hand and ran towards one of the boxes. When he reached her, Albert was shocked by the strange odor that filled the atmosphere. The foal was a beauty but her eyes had an odd yellowish tone and her lips poured some dense slobber.
Unaware of these details, the child brought the animal some oats, that she refused, surprising her.
"How strange! She always has a good appetite."
Albert knew the symptoms and he knew they weren't favorable, but he was afraid to scare her.
"Don't worry Cecilia, it is just that she is frightened because she doesn't know me. How about if we leave her alone and come back in a while?"
The child accepted his explanations without further questioning and they both went back. Some hors d'oeuvres were being served and she got distracted. Albert took his leave and tried to find Monty in a hurry.
That animal is really sick. Something must be done before it is too late, he was thinking.
"Mr. Andrew, what a pleasant surprise!" he heard someone addressing him.
He barely turned to face the owner of that voice; he muttered something as a greeting and kept on walking. His mind was somewhere else, focused on determining the best way to alleviate the sick creature. The concern in his face was evident to Monty who, excusing himself before the guests that were with him, took Albert aside.
"I am sorry for interrupting you, Monty… but I think this matter requires immediate attention".
The older man looked at him without understanding.
"Cecilia showed me her pet at the stables a while ago. I think you should call a vet… It is urgent!"
"That is impossible! That animal receives the best attention. My daughter adores her, she is devoted to her", Monty answered with a serious frown.
"You know I wouldn't alarm you if it wasn't necessary. If you want that horse to live overnight, do as I say. I will take care of the foal. Meanwhile, try to get your daughter to stay away from the stables for a while".
On his way back, he stopped to ask the maids for some towels and a washbowl full of warm water. He took everything to the box and stayed there, waiting. The foal was hidden in a corner, nervous, intimidated by the stranger's presence. Her dark fur was humid due to her strong perspiration, her short mane dirty and disheveled…
He took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves with very slow movements and started talking soothingly, keeping his distance.
"Hello Lucille, I am Albert… I have come to take care of you… Easy girl, easy… I am not going to harm you", he murmured gently.
The quiet tone of his voice soothed the animal to the point of leaving the corner where she had taken shelter, but she kept on maintaining a considerable distance. Her gasps were more intense and Albert deduced she had difficulty breathing. She could keep her glassy eyes open with lots of effort, focused on nearby objects in an awkward way, as if her vision got clouded. At the same time her limbs swung indecisive, in a persistent effort to find balance.
Albert knew her wellbeing depended upon the fact of starting treating her immediately, but he feared at the same time that if he forced her to accept his attentions roughly, her nervousness added to her unstable physical condition, could drive her to a dangerous shock.
It was then when the words echoed in his mind, words he believed buried, words he had consigned to oblivion, knowing his fate was nowhere near what he desired.
"You have a gift, young healer…"
The deep voice, of strange accent, reverberated in his mind as if those words had just been pronounced. Wrinkled face, toothless jaws, dark skin. Naked torso furrowed with scars, skinny legs and that glance… Above all, the glance. Albert didn't remember having ever seen such expressive eyes, so intense, in his whole life. Eyes, so human, so full of knowledge and understanding.
"Inside yourself, there beats some extraordinary potential… You must learn to develop it, it will keep growing inside of you"
His first trip to Africa, the group of scientists, and his first victim: a crippled baby elephant that he couldn't save from Death. The guilt he felt was unbearable. He had failed. That is why he had left the project, enlisted in the Army and left Africa… despite that man's words. He had never remembered them. It was strange he was doing now.
"Call your inner self, find its essence, look for yourself inside the creature and, when you have done so, she will recognize a messenger…"
He had never thought of that man and his words. He had kept on studying the animal world but he had never tried to heal again. And if the foul died? That old man had told him he was a healer, but Albert could have never believed him.
I am just a scholar, that is all…
Nevertheless he had shown bravery in front of that lion in Chicago, when Candy's life had been in danger.
"Face your concerns, overcome your fear, let your energy flow…"
Dongo, that was the lion's name. He had tried to find an answer in his soul and he had found it. That time he had been successful. But healing, healing? Would he dare to? Could he accept defeat? Was he ready to accept Death?
Albert closed his eyelids and concentrated deeply. He searched avidly inside himself and found some spare energy he didn't think to possess. He had to be brave. He had to risk it… If not, he could never start again… and he would never attain his dreams.
Fear kills the mind. Fear is the little death that consumes the spirit in slow compasses interweaved in an inexorable vortex.
Fear kills the mind…
Kills the mind…
He imagined an empty place, with no shapes or colors, shut to emotions and anxieties from the outer world, hermetic to sounds and movements… a place where he felt at complete ease. A spiritual shrine full of light and serenity in which he recreated two figures: his, as a current of water flowing warm and smooth, and that of young Lucille, that he perceived as a distant and alien presence. He wished to come nearer and saw himself in the shape of that current, streaming through some imaginary riverbed in her direction, each second quicker, each second nearer. As he approached her, he felt coldness invading his soul, hurling him into some dark abyss that seemed to drown him, mercilessly. He anchored himself to some soothing energy emanating from his core, avoiding getting absorbed by that mixture of chaos and emptiness. He tried to share it with the somber being that he was surrounding, and felt it transfiguring and opening frankly towards him. Then he sent some calming thoughts that dissipated the obscurity and suddenly came within the creature that shared with him his own nature.
He was driven to a wide prairie where a herd of mustangs was grazing peacefully, where mares looked after her babies as a single stud watched out ready to face any danger. He felt himself as part of that community, sharing the same instincts and aims. He knew Lucille was guiding him through her genetic memories, showing him that scene which gave a meaning to her own nature and dictated her racial behavior…
He had communed with her nature, and now he was ready to help her…
* * *
Jolie McPherson felt deeply humiliated when Albert passed by without even noticing her presence.
But who does he think he is? He has no right to treat me so unkindly. Why has he ignored me, why is he so inconsiderate? He was extremely attentive to me at the party. Why has he pretended not to recognize me now? Maybe because I was too bold with him when we first met?
Melissa Weston turned to her guest, but the funny comment that she thought of didn't cross her lips when she noticed that her intended listener was completely absorbed in her own thoughts, and was not paying any attention. Angry at first, after a momento of calming herself, she agreed that it was not in her interest antagonizing with the Newyorker. Having Jolie McPherson as a friend increased her own prestige in Chicago and she didn't want to lose her favor by some nonsense.
"Jolie," she whispered in her mellifluous voice. "The riding suit that you've chosen today looks really good. You don't know how glad I am that you could attend today's small family celebration".
Jolie seemed to wake up when she noticed the poke in her hand.
"Sorry, Melly, I think I was distracted for a moment. What were you were saying?"
Melissa gave her a smirk. "Nothing important, Jo. Only that I'm glad you're here today."
Jolie took her by the shoulders and gave her a light hug. "The pleasure is all mine. You know that I have little time living in Chicago, and yet I could not make any true friends. Having your friendship is very precious to me."
The Weston girl kissed Jolie's cheek exhibiting the sweetest one in her catalogue of smiles. If you only knew, she thought. She did not quite believe Jolie was so naive, so worldly and so innocent at the same time. Poor thing. Even some surprises still await you in Chicago.
"I noticed that Albert Andrew left the house a while ago. Isn't he going to participate in the hunt?"
Jolie's questions always used to be straightforward. Melissa noted that although Jolie pronounced every word with absolute indifference, a faint flush stained her cheeks ever so slightly, revealing her true vulnerability.
So you like our beloved Albert. How interesting! Melissa's face was the picture of naivete. You're not the first and I fear that you will not be the last. Many women have fallen in love with him since I've known him, but he only has eyes for Candy. Poor Albert! The only woman he has ever loved and the only one that does not return his feelings. It would be even funny if it wasn't so pathetic...
"Oh, Albert? I don't think he has gone far. He just arrived." Melissa feigned.
Jolie looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Is he engaged to marry by any chance?" she asked with total absence of emotion, only her dark eyes widened, heightening the intensity of her gaze.
Melissa could not help but find funny Jolie's efforts to keep her interest concealed. She replied with equal nonchalance.
"No, but…" she put her lips to her companion's ear, as if to reveal a secret confidence, "some say he will never commit himself to anyone until he can forget his feelings for his pupil, Candice Andrew".
Candice? The petite, green-eyed girl in whose honor was held that party in the Andrews mansion? But I saw how she kissed Terrence Grandchester, the actor, in the gardens... I do not understand.
The beautiful dark eyes seemed to be illuminated by a strange light. She felt confused. On one hand, she wanted to convince Albert to take her with him on his expedition, she wanted him to swallow his stupid pride and machismo, because she was sure that they were the only reasons for his opposition even though he denied it. She wanted to slap him for having been ignored... but on the other hand, she wanted... wanted... She couldn't even admit it to herself. She wanted those noble blue eyes to look at her as if she was the only woman on earth, wanted to hear that strong voice calling her name with affection, she wanted... Damn! Could she be falling for him? They hadnt exchanged more than a few words... Then, why was she so concerned that he could be in love with Candice? Why did she want to know if he was committed to anyone?
She had thought much about him since that party. In fact she hadn't been able to get him out of her mind. There was the business trip to Congo, but... He also intrigued her. Perhaps too much. If she could convince him to take her with him, would her increasing attraction for him interfere in their work together? She didnt know, but she wanted to risk it.
Many people thought that Jolie was a bold woman, carefree, confident. Only she knew that in reality it was a pose, a mask behind which she found refuge. Deep in her heart, she was shy, too shy, especially when it came to showing her true feelings to others. She hated being injured and so, she had built a defensive armor around that isolated her from any emotional pain. Very few were able to cross that barrier. Real Jolie was unknown to almost everyone.
She turned around trying to hide her face from Melissa, knowing that at that very instant she felt very vulnerable. She knew that the only thing that united the two of them was their mutual interest and Jolie was not fooled by the false affection shown to her. She was sure that if Melissa came to discover Albert was more than a caprice for her, she could turn her life into a living hell.
In an attempt to buy time to restore her inner calm, Jolie left the young schemer with the first excuse that came to her mind. She strolled around the room and stared absently at the gardens. Even if random guests tried to include her in some casual conversations, she took little in and heard even less. All her thoughts were on the pending return of Albert.
Jolie couldn't help but overhear a conversation between Laura Weston and her father, who stood slightly apart from the rest of the guests. Although the tone was quiet and hardly went beyond a few whispers, she could catch a few snippets of their dialogue.
"...Albert... lunch... is beginning."
"...Cecilia's foul... the veterinarian... You know how Albert is."
Jolie did not need to hear more. Suddenly all her doubts took on a whole new meaning. How unfairly she had judged him!
He is a good and generous man. He had no intentions whatsoever of offending me. He was just worried about that poor animal.
Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle were perfectly clear in her mind. If Albert Andrew was dealing with a sick animal, it was her chance to show him that she could be valuable to him as an assistant! Jolie tried to leave the room as quietly as she could and despite the fact that every fiber in her body was as taut as harp strings, she managed pretty well. Once out of the room she immediately spotted a maid, she ran to her and asked for the location of the stables.
"Follow me, Miss," the maid replied, "I am on my way there. Mr Andrew has asked me to take this bucket of hot water and several towels to him".
Jolie nodded. Suddenly an idea hit upon her! She hoped for her voice to sound convincing.
"Actually, I'm Mr. Andrew's assistant. He is waiting for me and I think it's not necessary for both of us to go. How about if I carry all this over there? I'm sure you must be very busy with the rest of the guests."
The maid looked at her for a moment, showing hesitancy. However, Jolie's profuse assertion of who she was finally convinced her. She nodded as she extended her arms towards Jolie and tranfered the load. Jolie waited for the maid to leave and made sure no one saw her, she turned and following the maid's directions soon came to the stables.
You could say that Montgomery Weston knew how to take care of his animals. The place was impeccably clean and well-organized. There was plenty of fresh hay and oats in each of the boxes. And above all, lots of space. It offered shelter not only to the family's horses, but also to the whole lot brought by the guests.
Jolie hated all those past-time amusements in which living creatures were mistreated, especially hunting, which had become a hallmark of class since the British had exported it to her country. Melissa had told her that at that time there would be no real hunt. There would be neither dogs nor live prey. It was more like an exercise in recreational sports in which no real damage would be inflicted to animals. That was the main reason why she had accepted the invitation in the first place. She was not considered a good rider, but had hoped to improve her skills. Unfortunately, back in Chicago there were little chances of riding.
The building was quiet. The animals seemed calm and her presence caused only the occasional pawing of hooves. She avoided making unnecessary noises as she looked over each compartment. Nothing broke the tranquility of the environment except for a slight whine at the bottom of one of the aisles. She walked stealthily and stopped before a half-opened door where the sound was more audible. She placed the bucket and towels down on one side. Hidden in the darkness she watched intently.
The cabin smelled of fresh feces and vomit. The hay of the horse's bed had lost its uniformity and was in complete disarray. Lying on the floor, in an antinatural pose, there was a very young foul. Her slender and fibrous body was experiencing violent spasms, but her eyes looked peaceful. Jolie was surprised at the odd reactions of the animal and the unusual understanding in her eyes, as if she knew and accepted the gravity of the fate she was facing.
Nearby, besides the foal, stood a motionless figure. His eyes distant, unattainable. The forehead, high and clear, was drenched in sweat. The wild hair, illuminated by a single beam of light coming into the room, shone brightly, as if crowned by a celestial halo.
Jolie felt intimidated by the picture she was witnessing. Both figures seemed to participate in some intimate communion, beyond any experience she had ever contemplated. She hardly dared to breathe, afraid of interrupting the fascinating spectacle that lay before her eyes.
…Then he turned to face her. Her eyes were captured by his, hers unable to break the link, and at the same time incapable of sustaining it.She trembled silently, fearing that he would scream at her for interfering. But he didn't. Albert smiled.
"Ms. McPherson." His words were barely a whisper, but she felt a warm wave enveloping her, welcoming her presence.
"Mr. Andrew." For a moment she dared no to speak any further, afraid that her voice could break the spell. "I... I brought the bucket of water and the towels you requested. I took the liberty..."
Albert silenced her with a wave of his hand. "No need to apologize. I'm glad you came. Your expertise will be very helpful to me." The young man paused as he looked carefully at her elegant attire. "But I fear that you will spoil your beautiful clothes..."
She cocked her head. She had been worried at first about the prospect of meeting him, afraid of her own reactions, but now that they were talking, she felt as comfortable as on the first time they had met. With him she felt free to behave in whatever way, to show boldness, mischievousness or audacity. Somehow she felt she did not need masks in his presence. If she had thought that his attractiveness could intimidate her, she had been wrong.
"No more than yours are already," she said, amused. "It is such a shame to have messed this beautiful Scottish kilt. It looks great on you."
Albert stretched his stiff muscles as he burst in laughs that spread to both.
"Ms. McPherson, you are one of the most candid people I've ever met! And I must confess that this is a quality I admire in a woman. Every time we talk I find in you something new I like."
She looked at him relaxed. If ever there had been some tension between them, it certainly had disappeared now as if by magic.
"You can give me a hand but I refuse to dirty your attire. What do you suggest we do then?" he asked.
She thought for a moment before answering.
"Do not worry, I have an idea." she said and disappeared back out of sight.
Albert watched Jolie as she ran off towards the direction of the house. While he waited he busied himself by bringing clean hay into the box and removing the old. He had asked the stable boys to be left alone with the sick horse, and therefore the responsibility lay with him to keep it neat. Half an hour had passed since Monty had been alerted and Albert assumed that it would not be too long before the veterinarian arrived.
He felt elated. Full of some new confidence in himself. That old man had been right. He had managed to banish his fear and had become fully aware of his own potential. He should not fear Death nor hate it if it claimed its victim. But he had the obligation to do everything in his power to reject it. The final decision rested with fate. Unavoidable. But he should not ever stop fighting. Never.
His spirit had come in close contact with that one of the animal, sharing its nature, soothing it. Once Albert had banished his and the animal's fears, he had managed to stabilize the foal's weakened state by rubbing her skin with warm towels. There was nothing more that he could do as he lacked the proper equipment, however the state of the foul had improved substantially.
Thank you, God. Thanks for having given me the courage I needed.
Albert was so concentrated in his prayer, he didn't realize Jolie was back.
", you are all dirty now. Why havent you waited for me?".
He emerged from his silence and shrugged with indifference. "Do not worry, it's only a few stains and it can be easily cleaned". Then he realized the change of clothing on her. "Oh, I see that menswear suits you wonderfully."
Jolie couldn't help but blush. She knew that the clothes she had borrowed were far too big for her. In fact they were some of Mr. Weston's old clothing, kept by the maids in the attic in order to donate to Charity at a later time. She therefore had to tuck her shirt and pants together. It somewhat made her look like a frog huntress. If she had ever had a real desire to look attractive, that moment was now. But instead, she appeared ugly and ungainly before him.
"You look very funny, really." he said turning his face away, trying restrain his laughter.
"That's all I could find. Now it's your turn to laugh." the girl paused for a moment before continuing in a prudish tone. "And you need not compose yourself. I shall have revenge once you get changed."
Smiling, Albert moved to an empty box holding the clothes she had brought for him.
That girl is really intriguing. So sophisticated and yet so simple at the same time, audacious and demure at once. Does she really have any knowledge on animals?
Meanwhile, Jolie continued where Albert left off, placing warm compresses and rubbing Lucille's skin. When she had finished, she covered the horse with a clean blanket and sat on a stool nearby. She examined the foul carefully, trying to recall in her memory the knowledge about horses she had acquired at the Faculty. The foal's condition seemed stable, but given its young age, it could easily deteriorate if she wasn't treated effectively.
She was interrupted by a male voice, "I think they are a little small, but it will have to do for now."
She turned to Albert, ready to take her revenge, but her whole mood evaporated when her gaze rested on him. While she looked like a sack of potatoes, he had not lost one iota of his charm. The shirt was so fitted to his body that it marked each of the muscles of his chest. And the pants did nothing to disguise his shapely legs and athletic build. She looked away to prevent him from noticing her blush. She was feeling a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"I've been placing warm compresses on her" she said, trying to focus her mind on something different to the disturbing presence that approached her. "I think she is suffering from a chill that has been complicated by diarrhea". She spoke aloud her diagnosis, trying to make her voice sound mature, sterile and profesional, far away from her inner turmoil. "It is not a dangerous illness, but given her young age, could be fatal. She is still a baby and needs constant supervision."
Albert leaned towards her, unaware of the reactions his mere sight was causing in her. "I think the same. All we can do while waiting for the veterinarian is to keep her body temperature estable and avoid the fever to arise," he said, taking his hand in hers.
Her heart began to beat violently within her chest. For a moment she feared it could bolt.
"Thank you for offering to help. I will not forget this."
His voice was barely a whisper, but happiness filled her completely. The reactions he provoked in her were always agitating and stormy.
Within the next hour, they both worked elbow to elbow, strangely coordinated. They hardly spoke, but silence wasnt felt as a burden, rather as welcomed companion. When the specialist arrived, the foal was fast asleep, relaxed. After examining her and congratulating them both on their effective care, the vet personally took charge of the situation. Monty, who had accompanied him, begged them to return to the party. The man did not know how to thank them.
The time they shared had led them to establish a pleasant atmosphere of camaraderie, but Jolie knew that the feeling was as brittle and fragile as a dried reed. She wanted to ask him if he would reconsider his decision to take her as an assistant on his trip to Africa, but she feared the answer to be negative again. He had addressed her words of praise and she felt that he was comfortable in her presense, but she was also aware that the appreciation and harmony weren't reasons compelling enough to make him desist from his decision. He remained being the same mysterious, unfathomable man she had met at his party. Although his attitude was an example of courtesy, education and charm, he had built new barriers, new defenses that she had not noticed when she had first met him.
Jolie peered at him with the corner of her eyes as they walked back together. His face was unreadable.
I must bring down those barriers. I must get him to admit me in his expedition. To achieve my aim, it is worth fighting, even suffering. I am willing to risk whatever, even if I have to lose everything. When the reward is so great, the bet must be too... However, he is so inaccessible. How can I reach him? How?
Albert led her to the service door. There, the steward told them that lunch was over. The guests were preparing for the hunt. The young man stood a moment undecided, watching his once-elegant clothing hanging useless on his arm.
"Ms. McPherson," Albert said, "I am afraid that the evening is over for me. I have no decent clothes to wear for the event ahead. I hope Mrs. Parsons will not kill me when she sees the poor state of my attire when I return it."
Before she could respond, he reached out his hand and shook hers.
"Thank you for everything. Your help has been priceless. Rest assured that I will always remember your gesture... And do not worry about our hosts. They'll forgive me somehow".
I can not let him go just like that. I have to talk to him. Explain ...
However, before she had time to react, Albert had disappeared. She ran after him, but when she found him, she could only see his figure on horseback, dim on the horizon.
© Rosa Carmona 2001