Chapter 17 #3
It was madness. Her plans to question him had vanished, her determination to boot him out her front door had evaporated, and now she was seriously considering letting him spend the night in her house.
The only thing that made it seem marginally reasonable was that he would probably be spending most of that night in her bathroom, puking his guts out.
He reached over the counter and took her hand. “If you had a blanket for me, I would be most grateful.”
“You are completely without scruples.”
“But not without honor.”
Sunny sighed deeply, then trudged off to fetch him an extra blanket and pillow.
She rolled her eyes and searched a bit more for a camping mattress she knew was loitering in the back of her ridiculously large closet.
She made sure his plaids were safely tucked in the drawer where she had taken to keeping them during the day, took the other gear out to him, then retreated back into her bathroom and changed into sweats.
She looked in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. It was no wonder he only wanted tea and some floor space. She looked like hell.
She went back into her little great room, ignored the man standing there, and started to bank the fire. Cameron caught her hand, then took the fire iron away from her.
“Leave it. I’ll see to it later, when the storm passes,” he said hoarsely.
She looked up at him quickly. He was pale again and his forehead was damp with sweat. “You don’t look good.”
“I feel worse.”
She pointed to her bathroom. “Throw up in there.”
He put his hand over his belly protectively. “I think I just might.”
She watched him go and shut the door behind him, considered, then rolled her eyes. She spread out the mattress for him, then spread out the blanket and pillow. She took an extra throw off the back of one of the chairs and settled it for him. Then she tucked herself in bed and prayed for sleep.
She was, unfortunately for her peace of mind, still awake when Cameron came out of the bathroom. He hesitated, then sat down and stretched out with a groan.
“Brunch?” she asked.
“A fond memory.”
She turned on her side and watched him by the light of the fire, waiting for him to sleep.
Perilous.
And, quite suddenly, futile. He rolled to his feet with a groan and strode back into her bathroom.
Perhaps she’d been a little too generous with a particular herb or two.
He came out quite a bit later, cursing her.
Sunny reached for a book on flora and fauna in the Hebrides.
She already knew most of what was in it, but it was thick and very dryly written.
She’d used it several times over the past month to help her sleep.
She turned on a flashlight and prepared to let it help her again.
Perhaps if she read it aloud, it would drown out Cameron’s curses.
She realized, with a start, that he had moved his bed. Next to hers, as it happened.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked.
“’Twas too hot by the fire,” he said. He sat up, stripped off his shirt and his socks, then lay back down. “Damn you, woman, you used too much lobelia in that tea.”
“Which means you’ll feel better all that much sooner.”
“The path to that happy place is, I suspect, going to be very long and thorny.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “You never said how you wanted to feel better, just that you did.”
“I’ll be more specific the next time.”
Sunny couldn’t help but hope for the sake of her poor heart that there wouldn’t be a next time. She tried to concentrate on her book, but it was, as she’d conceded before, dull as dust.
And Cameron had apparently found a new batch of unkind things to say about her. He started muttering in French, moved to Latin, and had just warmed up in Italian when she decided she’d had enough. She rolled over to tell him so.
Her book fell from her fingers and landed on his face.
He yelped, then sat up and glared at her. “Why in the hell did I think it would be a good idea to spend the night on your floor?”
“I never asked you to!” she shot back.
He looked at her with his mouth open, then shut his mouth. “Ach, hell,” he said with a sigh, setting the book aside. “Sunshine—”
“I’m all right,” she said brightly. “It’s all right.”
“Nay, that was uncalled for. I apologize.” He reached out and put his hand over hers. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m very grateful for your kindness to me, especially when I didn’t give you much choice about it.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she managed. “I could have thrown you out bodily, I’m sure.”
He smiled and pulled his hand away. “I’m sure you could have and I appreciate your restraint. Why don’t you lie down, love, and be at peace. I’ll watch over you.”
“From the bathroom,” she muttered under her breath. She lay back down, though, because she thought that that way she might be able to pull the covers up over her head and avoid having to look at him anymore. She closed her eyes as she felt his hand on her hair, smoothing it back from her face.
“From the loo, if necessary,” he agreed. “You have offered me much more hospitality than I deserved and I am grateful for it.” He paused. “And I’m very grateful for a place in front of your fire.”
She looked at him, mute.
He tugged her covers up to her ear, touched her face again, then lay down. He was silent for quite some time. “Thank you for the refuge, Sunshine.”
She couldn’t answer. She waited until she heard his breathing deepen before she rolled over and took many, many deep breaths to keep from weeping. She didn’t want to be his refuge.
She wanted to be what she had been to him.
She wanted to push him, to see if he could remember more than just what he felt on Moraig’s threshold, to see if he could remember everything he’d forgotten.
She wanted to push him so hard that he demanded that she stop.
She wanted to back him into a corner where he had no choice but to either admit to her that he knew who and what he’d been, or acknowledge that he had no clue about anything that had happened before he’d been clunked on the head.
She wanted with equal fervor to run away from him as fast and as far away as she could get. She was so torn between the two, she was surprised she didn’t make a horrible rending sound right there next to him.
Push him, or push him away.
Maybe he would be gone by the time she got up in the morning and she wouldn’t have to make that decision.
She didn’t hold out much hope for it.