“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.”
Chapter Eighteen
I don’t think that bear will ever fall asleep,” Hannah moaned.
The sky outside the windows had started to turn a pearly gray. Even the gosling had tucked her beak under a chubby wing stubbled with juvenile feathers. Méibh’s little chest lifted and fell as she slept soundly—and given the number of times that Hannah had been pecked in the ankle, her slumber was a very good thing. Now, if only the bruin would rest too. Unfortunately, the bear would stay silent for a few minutes and then renew its quest.
“At least it isn’t trying to force its way through the door,” Eoin pointed out.
