Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sitting on top of that sentimental cloth had to be what MacInnis must have wanted me to find—a red and white box with a bright circle of red, orange, and yellow for a logo—Nurofen. I read the label and it was just as I expected, a European version of ibuprofen.
What I wouldn’t have given to have seen that logo last night, when I was losing my mind!
That heavy kettle of guilt sitting on my chest got even heavier. I’d injured this big tough Yeti-man badly enough he’d offered me access to his most private things if I would just give him something for the pain.
I stopped my snooping, filled a cup with clean water from a non-piss-pot pot, and counted out the maximum dose. A little math told me there was enough to last a man his size for a couple of days.
Kneeling beside the bed, I removed the ice pack and leaned close to wake him as gently as I could. “Mr. MacInnis? Kee-un? I’m sorry to wake you up, but I found your pain pills.”
His eyes moved beneath all that swelling. The bruises were getting darker, but they weren’t as large as I thought they’d be. And his eyes opened slightly wider than before.
I smiled. “There you are.”
He smiled too. “Ye havenae tied me to the bed again, have ye?”
“Nope. But I did find your pain pills. I’ll help you sit up so you can take them. Then you can go right back to sleep.” I put an arm behind his shoulders and tried to lift him, but he did all the work and pulled his elbows beneath him.
He grimaced. “Pure bowfin, are they no’?”
“Bowfin?”
“Disgustin’.”
“What? No! You don’t chew them.”
“How else would ye eat the bloody things?”
I fought not to laugh. “You put them on your tongue, then take a drink and swallow them whole. Come on. One at a time.”
“Thank ye,” he said, sounding terribly relieved. “I only ate the one, a year or so back. Since then, no pain seemed worth the torture.”
By the last pill, he’d gotten the hang of it, and I helped him ease back onto the pillow. He didn’t want another ice pack.
“A mite easier to rest without it, I reckon.”
I nodded and gave his chest an awkward pat. “I’ll be quiet. Probably read a book. Try to forget I’m here.”
He caught my hand with his massive one and a wave of delicious chills shot from my toes up to my shoulders. “Dinnae go. Will ye sit beside me, just until I sleep?”
“Sure.” I tugged the blanket higher, then pulled it back again to take a good look at the blood covering his chest. “If you take off your shirt, I will soak it and try to get the blood out.”
“Ye’d do that fer me? I’d be grateful.”
I rubbed my hands together to warm up my fingers while he sat up and undid the buttons, then I pulled it off his shoulders and peeled it away from his arms. I forgot to breathe when I realized what I’d uncovered.
All muscle. Everywhere. On the kind of body that artists—and half the women on the planet—would kill to get their hands on. He laid back, and I stared out the window while I covered up all that glory with the blanket. My lucky thumbs brushed his chest and I froze.
“What aboot the troosers?”
“Troosers?” I had pulled the blanket nearly to his chin and couldn’t seem to let go.
“M’ denims. Are they covered as well?”
I tried to keep my eyes in my head and appear casual while I uncovered him once again to look at his jeans. His frame was so much larger than Nick’s, I couldn’t help but stare. The bones of his hips were wide, and they rode a good twelve inches above the mattress. He was massive!
It was a rare moment that I felt small and delicate. I was two inches taller than Nick, but he was convinced we were the same height. I wore flats all the time, which was hard when working in a kitchen, but I did it to save his pride.
I smiled when I realized I wouldn’t have to do that anymore.
Maybe it was my close proximity to the Yeti-man, but for the first time, I was able to think about my soon-to-be ex-husband and not feel that painful squeeze around my heart.
I understood why MacInnis was so concerned about his pants. They looked new, and I could smell the dye. But other than a couple of dark drips on his thighs, the blood had been absorbed by his shirt, and I told him.
“Then I’ll keep them, shall I?”
“Shall you?” I shook myself. “I mean, good idea.”
I didn’t want him stripping them off, now did I?
No. Definitely not, because I would have to help him do it!
Bad idea, bad idea.
I tossed the blanket over him and turned away, not caring how it landed. I had to turn back, though, to snatch up the shirt, then I spun again toward the kitchen. He finally noticed that I was flustered and chuckled.
“Given that ye’ve seen me bare, Matty lass, I reckon ye can cease addressin’ me as Mr. MacInnis. Just Kee-un will do.”
“Okay. Kee-un,” I repeated.
“Of course, ye’re welcome to call me Yeti-man, if ye’d rather.”
I smirked. “Matty lass and the Yeti-man. Sounds like the title of a bad romance novel.” When the words registered, I grimaced.
“Ye never ken,” he said. “Perhaps a good one.”
He’d said it so softly, it sent more chills racing through me.
This time, they bounced back and forth like a pinball before they disappeared.
But I kept my back to him and pressed his shirt down into the largest pan he had.
Then I emptied the pot of fresh water on top and set it on the ledge so the water wouldn’t heat and cook the blood into the fibers.
I went to the shelf and grabbed a book, set it on the chair, and carried the chair back to the side of the bed, hoping the color of my face had returned to normal. “Are you warm enough?”
“Aye.”
I came around the chair to sit beside him. It was then I realized I’d grabbed the bible. He noticed and laughed again. “A fine choice, under the circumstances, aye?”
I rolled my eyes and set the book on the blanket beside his leg, then leaned forward and pushed the hair away from his brow. “You’re going back to sleep, remember?”
He closed his eyes like a good little boy and inhaled deeply. With only his battered face visible, my body settled down and I relaxed.
“I’m sorry you’re in pain,” I said softly. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Aye, but ye should.” He kept his eyes shut. “Truth be told, I was proud of ye.”
“Proud?”
“Auch, pleased then, that ye defended yerself sae well. I apologize for frightening ye.”
“I already forgave you, remember?”
He smiled. “So ye did.”
“I’m still sorry you’re in pain.”
“Auch, the worst of it is over. By mornin’, I reckon we’ll ken how close to that bubble ye got m’ nose.”
“I’ll say an extra prayer.”
The rich sound of his laughter had the same effect on me that the sight of his bare chest had. And my mind searched frantically for something else that might make him laugh again. But he needed to sleep. And I’d have time to try later.
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been able to make Nick laugh. At the moment, I couldn’t even remember what that sounded like…
Kee-un’s hair hadn’t moved, but I brushed it to the side again anyway.
The way his forehead smoothed in reaction made me do it again.
In the stillness, interrupted only by his quiet breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the dying whispers of the wind, there was no one around to stop me, or judge me when I ran my fingers up into his hair and gently massaged his head.
And the longer I did it, the deeper he breathed.
I remembered a woman whose baby started fussing loudly.
By the time I’d taken a little basket to their table, full of toys we kept for just such occasions, the baby had quieted.
His mother soothed him by slowly rubbing his chubby hands.
I still remember the look on the little guy’s face, mesmerized and totally relaxed.
I also remembered thinking it was a magic trick, and I swore I wouldn’t forget, so I could try it on my own child one day. But since it didn’t look like that was ever going to happen, I figured I could try it on my Yeti-man. If it could work on him, it could work on anyone.
I slipped my hand beneath his. Palm to palm, I wrapped my fingers around his thumb and wrist, then used my other hand to massage the back and sides of his hand, then his fingers, one at a time.
I painted his skin with the tips of my fingers, and by the time I’d finished with his palm, he was snoring away, louder than before.
It could have been the pain pills kicking in, but I chose to believe I had worked my own bit of magic.
I wanted to wake him up and try it again.