Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Cian ignored her mutterings and poured two cups of the coffee before taking both, along with the plates, to the table.
He stood over her, offered her a modest piece of a rasher, then strode out into the wind and snow to fetch a fat log he could use as a seat.
When he returned, she hadn’t moved, but she was eyeing the mugs and biting her bottom lip.
He closed the door, planted the log beside her, and sat. Without saying a word, he sipped his coffee to judge the temperature, then held her cup to her lips.
She sipped, then took a long pull. “Thank you.”
He stuffed half a rasher in his mouth, then broke another piece off for her.
Her mouth might have thanked him, but her eyes burned with anger. Her calm was all a show. If he let her go now, she’d find the blades he’d hidden with the boxes atop the shelf, and slit his throat, sure. Despite what that blasted time traveler expected her to do.
Another bite for each of them, then a drink.
He noticed a drop of grease on her lip and reached over to wipe it away, but the move only brought a shine to her entire bottom lip. She watched his mouth as he licked his own lips in some sort of sympathy, then they locked gazes and froze, both of them. A breath later, they glanced away.
“Ye said, last eve, that ye’d mistaken the place for a bothy. This morn, ye reckoned ye’d been spirited back to another century. I cannae wait to hear yer next tale.”
“So, your brother told you? He’s probably freezing. Don’t keep him out there on my ac…ac…” Horrified, she studied his eyes, his nose, then she leaned back so she could look at his leg. Not the boots that had made her so happy, but his leg.
He could almost hear the words as if they still hung in the air.
Where are your pants?
She rolled her eyes, groaned, and dropped her chin to her chest. After a heavy sigh, she shook her head and looked him in the eye. “You’ve been laughing at me the whole time.”
“Now and again, aye. But I sobered the instant ye mentioned traveling through time. I reckon ye meant to bring that up later? Let it slip a little early, did ye? Gave the game away?”
“What game?”
He pulled off another wee bite of rasher and stuffed it in her mouth whilst it hung open. “Come, now, Matty, is it?”
He enjoyed the shock on her face, reveled in his ability to surprise her. He’d read her name on the inside of her coat that still hung in the stable, beside her skis, where she wouldnae find them without braving the storm.
“Yer friend should have tried harder to find me more than shek blee-uh-nuh air ash. But I’ll no go back.
I have no intention of uh koor soo-yl air that battlefield again.
And by the time he comes for ye, I shall be far away from this place.
” He downed the rest of his coffee and lifted her cup to her lips, but she shook her head.
Her blinks were irregular. She shook her head again and again, as if trying to understand someone who was speaking too fast. “I haven’t got any idea what you’re talking about. You want to try it again in English?”
“Abandon the pretense, woman. If the traveler didnae trust ye with the whole of the story, ye ken it now. So.” He pushed the plates and cups away and folded his hands on the top of the table. “When should we expect ‘im?”
“I do not know what in the freak you are talking about! And I don’t remember telling you my name!”
He chewed the side of his lip for a moment whilst he thought matters through. Then he came to an obvious conclusion. “The witches hired ye then. They vaguely promised happiness, so I reckon ye were to seduce me at some point. To occupy me until the devil arrives?”
He stood and moved behind her to untie the rope that secured her to the chair. “I reckon now is as good a time as not.”
“For what?”
He leaned close to her ear, pulled her loosening braid aside, slowly, and grinned when she shivered. “Fer the seduction.”
Cian’s nose exploded into a thousand painful stars that crashed, pointy bits first, into his brain, bringing tears to his eyes and blood to his mouth.
He felt the hard floor come up beneath his arse, but he could see nothing but lights shooting from the pain centered behind his screaming nose.
When he dared lift his fingers to touch it, he found the bloody thing off kelter!
She’s broken it!
The painful pricking of stars continued to disrupt his vision, so he had no ken what the lass was up to. Freeing herself, most likely. And running for the door.
Auch, but why would any lass do otherwise when a man whispers such a threat in her ear?
“Woman? Matty? Where are ye?”
He heard not a breath from her.
“Forgive me,” he groveled between sputters of blood pouring past his lips. “I own that it was a cruel thing to say, but I’ll not dishonor ye, I vow it.”
There was shuffling behind him. And a curse. Then a gasp. “You found my name in my coat!”
“Aye. Just so.”
“So where is it? And my skis!”
He shook his head carefully. “Ye’ll die in that storm, and ye ken it. I hid them…to protect ye from yerself.”
“Bullshit.”
He tried to frown, to deny the truth, but the movement was too painful. “Aye. I took them oot o’ spite.”
“Where?!”
He was finished lying and arguing when his head was splitting in twain. No doubt his new clothes were as ruined as his nose.
The lass made a frightening noise of frustration, then began stomping about the place.
The door opened suddenly and remained open.
If she’d taken his best blanket and fled, it served him right.
He was in no condition to crawl to the door to close it again.
And already, the storm had filled the house and likely blew out the fire.
He cursed the witches first. How dare they send a lass into such danger? And how dare they poke their noses into his perfectly harmless life?
Next, Cian cursed the traveler, as he had every day for nigh eight years. If the man had never interfered with the battle, Cian would have fought with all his might and died honorably, unaware of what witchcraft was afoot among the prince’s regiments.
He wouldn’t curse poor Matty Gaines. He’d amused himself all morning at her expense. He could have corrected her when she mistook him for a brother. He should have explained straight away that he’d been the hairy beast from the day before…
Mistook me for a brother.
The traveler knew there would be no brother here, in this century.
Was the lass ignorant of who Cian was and where he’d come from? Had she been duped as he had?
Or was she truly an innocent in all this? A skier pushed off her route by the storm? Harassed by a horse’s arse for mistaking his ancient home for a bothy? Frightened and tied to a chair, then harassed again, frightened into defending herself with the only weapon at hand?
Bloody hell! What had he done?
“Matty!” His call never left the house. The wind was smothered by the closing of the door.
Feet shuffling.
“Matty?”
“Yeah.”
“I was mistaken. Forgive me, I beg ye.” He tried to find her by the sound of her voice, to see her expression, but his eyes were quickly swelling shut.
Something wet and cold hit the back of his neck. “It’s a cloth filled with snow. I want you to reach back and hold it here, understand? It will help stop the bleeding.”
He reached over his shoulder. She guided his hand where she wanted it, then left him to hold the cloth in place before she moved away again.
A few heartbeats later, and her footsteps returned.
Another wet cloth touched his face, though tenderly this time.
She cleaned him, left him, then came back to finish the job.
When she was satisfied, she came back again with something cold to hold against his eyes.
“What am I holdin’?”
“My glove. You don’t have a lot of washcloths around here.”
“In the trunk,” he said.
“Too late. Besides, it’s locked. This will have to do. And don’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to leave you until the storm ends.”
He felt her hands at his belt buckle and jumped.
“Relax. I don’t want your pants. But I do need your belt. When I’m done, I’ll give it back.”
Cian concentrated on the cold packs in his hands, the ice water dripping between his fingers, while she unlatched the belt and slid it out from the loops.
“I’m going to help you stand, so you can lie on the bed, okay? Another minute or two and you won’t be able to see anything.”
He nodded carefully and got to his feet, grateful for a gentle pull or push to guide him until he finally sat on the bed. When she eased him back until his head rested on a pillow, he kindly asked her to see to the fire.
“Oh, I will. I just need to get you situated first.” She lifted his head and put the cold wet bundle behind his neck again. Then she lifted his hand to hold the other against the bridge of his nose, which also gave some relief to his eyes.
She took his wrist, tied something around it, then tucked what felt like his leather belt beneath it. Before he could guess what she was up to, his arm flew over his head, to the top of the bed where she secured it to the slender tree trunk he’d polished and attached to the bed years ago.
She caught his other hand with a loop and yanked it up to join the other one, no longer caring if the snow-filled glove stayed on his face. Then she leaned close to his ear, lingering until he knew good and well where she was. “I’ll release you…as soon as you confess.”
“Confess what?”
“Don’t play dumb. I want you to confess…how many others you’ve lured here with your little blue light? How many others have disappeared in this valley? Tell me the truth, and I’ll give you a chance to convince me why I shouldn’t end you now, so it never happens again?”
She’d found the ropes. She’d found her jacket. And if he couldn’t convince her of his innocence, all she had to do was douse the fire and leave the door open when she fled.
As the cold glove slipped the final inches off his face, he felt the pull on his boot. Through the pain, it was difficult to resist, let alone fight with her. Resisting the real temptation to sleep was all he had attention for.
“Easy, Mattie. I havenae a reason to fight ye. For I didnae lure ye here, nor have I lured others. In eight years come summer, ye’re the first human to cross m’ threshold. I swear it. Though I cannae prove it…to save my life.”
She made a clicking noise with her tongue and her teeth. “Well, then, that’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”