If there was one thing she knew, it was how to be handy with a needle and thread. Her father had never been much for sewing, so the role had fallen to her as soon as she was old enough to hold a needle. She’d stitched up his clothes over and over, with him ripping them over and over again.
How he got into so many situations that involved tearing his clothes, she wasn’t sure, but he did.
Mending the tapestry would be easy compared to attempting to hold together fabric that was so worn you could almost see through it.
She released the last curtain from its hooks and dropped it to the floor before turning her attention to the embroidered sign. Clearly, Roan’s grandmother had been an incredibly talented seamstress to create such fine work.
The tear was small, but it was toward the top where the tapestry hung, which meant the weight of the fabric was pulling on it and would inevitably cause it to rip more.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Taking it down to fix it was the best option, and no one would even notice the tear once she put it back up.
Abigail reached over to begin unfastening the tapestry, letting go of the top rung of the ladder to use both hands.
“Abigail!” Roan’s voice barked.
Her concentration slipped, and so did she.
She wobbled at the top of the ladder for a moment, the ladder itself bobbling back and forth. Fear shot through her heart as she realized how far she was from the ground. She scrambled to grab the ladder again, but her hands met nothing but air, and she fell, trying desperately to reach it.
A strong pair of arms caught her just before she hit the floor, and she stared up at Roan, her eyes wide, her arms wrapping around his neck involuntarily.
She could hardly breathe.
She clutched him tighter as the gravity of what had happened flooded through her. She could have seriously injured herself, and with the two of them trapped here, there would have been no help.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“What were you doing?” he asked, setting her down so abruptly it nearly felt like he threw her. “What makes you think you’re allowed to touch my grandmother’s tapestry?”
“I was going to mend it for you,” Abigail said, finding herself growing flustered.
He was upset. Why was he upset with her?
“Don’t touch my grandparents’ things,” he said, the words harsh as he turned and stalked away. “And I’m not paying you to help while the tavern isn’t open.”
“Did I ask you to?” she called after him.
Roan paused, turning on his heel to stare at her.
Why had she said anything? She didn’t like to confront people…but there was no one to witness this, and perhaps saying something now would be better than living with just him and his attitude for however long it took to break this curse.
“I haven’t said a word about wanting to be paid,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “And I’m only trying to help you fix the things that have been put off for too long, as you said you were doing. Perhaps you would rather I sit and do nothing while we’re trapped in a curse, but I, for one, would prefer to be busy, and I wish we could get along with each other while we’re here.”
She took a deep breath and nodded firmly at him before turning back to pick up the pile of curtains.
He waited a moment before he left again, his footsteps quieter than normal on the floor.
Something had been different this time. He was usually gruff, but this outburst felt more personal. Maybe there was a reason the tapestry was hanging so high up on thewall, if he didn’t want anyone touching it. Had somebody else torn the tapestry, and he hadn’t known how to fix it?
It didn’t matter. Even without mending the tapestry, she had plenty to do without trying to make sense of Roan’s behavior.
Cleaning the curtains took most of the day, and it was growing dark when she finished with the last one. She hadn’t washed them, since that task was better suited to two people with how large they were, but beating them out in the garden had taken out huge quantities of dust.
Putting them back up would have to wait—if she put them back up at all. The sunshine that flooded through the side windows as the sun set was the prettiest thing she’d seen in this building since she’d set foot in it.
She set the curtains to the side; they might make a cozier nest than curling up on the floor of the kitchen as she had the night before.
