Chapter Seventeen #2
“Eoin.” Hannah’s voice was deadly calm now, and there was not a single quaver nor hint of humor.
A burst of strong panic caught in his chest. When he cautiously swiveled his head back around, an eerie, ancient fear swamped him. Every hair on his arms stood at attention, and his flesh turned to goose skin.
“I see eyes.” Hannah breathed out the chilling words just as Eoin spotted bright yellow orbs glowing in the shrubbery.
For a moment, Eoin stood transfixed. There was something mesmerizing about the twin moonlike spheres. His breath came out in uneven spurts, and perspiration now drenched his entire body. But Eoin could not succumb to primal terror. He had to protect Hannah.
He tried to release her hand, but she clung tightly. It was clear to Eoin that Hannah had no intention of permitting him to charge the bear. She obviously wanted them to face the danger together. But Eoin wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to allow her. For if she perished…
Hoooooooooooooooooooooonk!
Was that a battle cry? From the gosling? Surely not. Eoin didn’t even think that the juvenile could emit such sounds yet.
But Eoin couldn’t deny that the shadowy ball of fluff was waddling determinedly in the direction of the bruin. Beside him, Hannah gasped. Her grip on his fingers felt like a vise.
“Fowl, no!” Eoin whispered.
The bird, as usual, ignored him. She was intent on defending him, danger be damned.
The glowing eyes drew nearer, and Eoin could now spy the bear’s menacing outline among the bushes. Fortunately, it moved in a lumbering fashion as if its very joints hurt. Eoin, however, felt no solace in the observation. Even if the bruin was indeed old—it still had teeth and powerful jaws.
Eoin reached for his pistol, unsure if a single ball would disarm such a creature. He wasn’t a hunter, and he had no idea the best spot to shoot the bear. Although he hated the idea of killing, he had to defend Hannah, himself, and even that wretched, foolishly intrepid fowl.
Beside him, Hannah slowly withdrew her own weapon.
Other than those slight motions, neither of them moved.
Eoin hoped the bruin would simply grow bored and leave…
but couldn’t those beasts’ sense of smell rival that of dogs and wolves?
And with its eyes aglow, was it watching them despite the darkness?
The bear shifted in their direction. Eoin and Hannah sidled backward. The creature took two giant steps forward.
Hooooooooonnk. Hissssssss! Hooooooooonk! Hisss! Hissss!
Eoin watched in half horror, half fascination as the small but fierce puff darted between the shadowy legs of the bruin.
Rawrrrr?
Did… did the bear sound confused? Surely Eoin’s dazed mind was simply ascribing emotions to the growls.
The beast raised and lowered each massive paw in succession, almost as if it was performing a thunderous dance.
In the dark, it was difficult to assess the position of the gosling, yet the little fowl’s constant stream of honks and hisses were only tinged with anger and not pain. It must be dodging the claws.
Rawrrrr!
In contrast, the bear did sound like it was in perplexed distress. Eoin was oddly certain that the gosling was holding the dreadful bruin at bay.
“We should run.” Hannah pulled desperately on Eoin’s hand. “Now! While the bear is distracted.”
Eoin didn’t squander any time by attempting to form a verbal reply.
He just pivoted, dragging Hannah with him.
He tore toward the faux tower, glancing over his shoulder every few strides.
Each time, he could see a large shadow lunging and spinning as it roared in frustration.
Although Eoin couldn’t detect the gosling, it was obvious that the clever bird was still weaving underneath the big bruin.
“Will the door be open?” Hannah asked as they neared the tower, which was only a foot taller than Eoin himself.
“Yes,” he said. “There is no lock—only simple latches on the inside and out. I suspect it was specifically designed for trysts.”
“I would rather we were here for a rendezvous,” Hannah huffed out when they reached the little tower. She grabbed the handle of the door and gave a push. “It’s stuck!”
“Allow me.” Eoin shoved his shoulder against the thick wood, careful not to apply too much force. He didn’t want to break a hinge. Thankfully, the oak panel must have only been swollen from the summer’s heat and humidity. It groaned in protest but opened readily.
Eoin bundled Hannah inside and then dodged in after her, making sure to keep his body between her smaller one and the opening.
As he turned to lock them inside, he heard whistling.
Glancing in the direction of the bear, he could see its shadowy form swaying back and forth.
Was the bruin searching for its lost quarry?
Squeak! Honk! Squeak! Honk!
The little gosling was definitely running toward the folly. Since the bear wasn’t moving and was still yards again, Eoin kept the oak panel open a crack.
“I want to give the fowl—I mean, the goose—a chance to join us,” Eoin explained to Hannah. “Can you secure the latch when I slam the door?”
“Certainly.” Hannah walked over to the jamb, positioning herself behind the stone wall.
Within seconds, a small blur squeezed through the narrow slit. Eoin could feel the gosling’s body snuggle against his ankles as he shoved the oak panel closed. Hannah quickly slipped the wrought iron hook into its metal loop.
“There’s a wooden bar as well!” Hannah pointed at a slab of oak.
Eoin instantly set it in place, pleasantly surprised by its heft. “The architect of this folly certainly designed a tiny fortress.”
“Thank goodness for that!”
Rawrrrr? Rawrrr?
The bear sounded distressed again. Eoin peered out of one of the narrow, arched windows. The sky had begun to lighten ever so slightly, and the bear was snuffling along the dirt as it swayed its massive body to and fro.
Suddenly, it lurched forward, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on the tower. It lumbered in their direction and then picked up speed.
“It’s coming straight toward us,” Hannah said.
“Get back from the window,” Eoin instructed as he heeded his own advice. Hannah, however, hadn’t needed the warning as she headed for the center of the structure. Eoin joined her, which meant that the gosling followed.
Wrapping his arms around Hannah, Eoin tried to enfold her in his massive frame.
He doubted that the bruin would breach the walls, but he would take every precaution to keep Hannah safe.
In the darkness, the gosling hissed out her dismay as she pecked around their feet.
She went still, though, when the bear crashed against the door.
The bruin batted the oak panel a few times, and it sounded like a giant was knocking.
“I feel like Scrapefoot, the fox in that fairy tale about the three bears,” Hannah said, her voice muffled as she burrowed against Eoin’s chest.
He forced out a laugh. “I don’t think this bear is as mannerly as the ones in that story.”
As if to punctuate Eoin’s statement, a scratching sounded at one of the windows. Although the bruin couldn’t shove his full paw through the opening, two of his claws scraped against the inner stone. Then came the nose. It snuffled along the casement, the tip twitching up and down.
“If I was not so terrified, I might actually find that adorable.” Hannah shook her head, her ear brushing against Eoin’s chest.
“At least the bear is no longer attacking the door,” he said.
The beast grunted and slowly withdrew its muzzle. A few seconds later, it tried another window and then another. Finally, the beast heaved a huge sigh. They could hear it take a few steps, and then there was silence.
“Do you think it fell asleep?” Hannah asked as they clung together in the middle of the twenty-foot circle.
“Perhaps, but I don’t believe we should check just yet.” Eoin glanced warily toward one of the openings. There was a faint glow of sunrise, but the light didn’t penetrate into the center of the folly.
“I suppose there are worse fates than being stuck with you in a fairy-tale rendition of a castle keep.” Hannah stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against the base of his neck.
His groan of delight, however, was promptly drowned out by an indignant hiss. Both he and Hannah looked down so quickly at the feathered malcontent that they almost whacked heads.
“I suppose we should really name the gosling now. She’s definitely deserving of one.” Hannah’s voice was laced with a fondness that Eoin had to admit had entered his own heart.
“I agree.”
“Aha!” Hannah poked him gently in the chest. “I hear that warmth in your tone. You can’t fool me. I bet that you even have the perfect appellation picked out!”
Eoin didn’t try to deny it. “Méibh for Queen Maeve. What better namesake for an intrepid little gosling than the legendary warrior queen of Connacht? The goose, after all, is our feathered savior.”