Cian concentrated on the cold packs in his hands, the ice water dripping between his fingers, while she unlatched the belt and slid it out from the loops.
“I’m going to help you stand, so you can lie on the bed, okay? Another minute or two and you won’t be able to see anything.”
He nodded carefully and got to his feet, grateful for a gentle pull or push to guide him until he finally sat on the bed. When she eased him back until his head rested on a pillow, he kindly asked her to see to the fire.
“Oh, I will. I just need to get you situated first.” She lifted his head and put the cold wet bundle behind his neck again. Then she lifted his hand to hold the other against the bridge of his nose, which also gave some relief to his eyes.
She took his wrist, tied something around it, then tucked what felt like his leather belt beneath it. Before he could guess what she was up to, his arm flew over his head, to the top of the bed where she secured it to the slender tree trunk he’d polished and attached to the bed years ago.
She caught his other hand with a loop and yanked it up to join the other one, no longer caring if the snow-filled glove stayed on his face. Then she leaned close to his ear, lingering until he knew good and well where she was. “I’ll release you…as soon as you confess.”
“Confess what?”
“Don’t play dumb. I want you to confess…how many others you’ve lured here with your little blue light? How many others have disappeared in this valley? Tell me the truth, and I’ll giveyou a chance to convince me why I shouldn’t end you now, so it never happens again?”
She’d found the ropes. She’d found her jacket. And if he couldn’t convince her of his innocence, all she had to do was douse the fire and leave the door open when she fled.
As the cold glove slipped the final inches off his face, he felt the pull on his boot. Through the pain, it was difficult to resist, let alone fight with her. Resisting the real temptation to sleep was all he had attention for.
“Easy, Mattie. I havenae a reason to fight ye. For I didnae lure ye here, nor have I lured others. In eight years come summer, ye’re the first human to cross m’ threshold. I swear it. Though I cannae prove it…to save my life.”
She made a clicking noise with her tongue and her teeth. “Well, then, that’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ireheated the rest of the coffee and drank it down. Then I washed out the pot and the pan he’d used to cook the ham. The clean plates and cups I returned to their shelf, then I put another log into the fire. I was plenty warm at the moment, but that wouldn’t last.
My poor, pathetic prisoner hadn’t said a word, but I could tell he was in pain by the way he sucked air between his teeth every now and then.
I had no idea a headbutt could do so much damage, and I felt bad after he’d apologized and said he wouldn’t have followed through. But it wasn’t like I could believe him. Ever since he’d come through the door that first time, he’d convinced me he was dangerous. I couldn’t be blamed for believing it.
And now, he knew that I could be dangerous too. At the moment, though, the only danger was that I might pee my pants. So I slipped my jacket on, my gaiter and facemask, and slipped back into my boots, ready to squat in the snow if necessary.
I paused at the door. “Hey. You. What’s your name?”
“MacInnis. Kee-un MacInnis.”
“Please tell me, Mr. MacInnis, that you have an outhouse nearby.”
“Oot hoose? Ah, ye mean the privy. Back of the hoos. Be sure to take a cloth along.”
“A cloth?”
“Sure but with this weather, yer arse will freeze to the seat otherwise.”
I grabbed my leg gaiters, braced myself, and ran out into the storm.
The snow was sodeep in front of the outhouse door, I couldn’t open it. And if I could, there was a solid frame of ice covering the seam that I didn’t have time for. So, I hurried around behind the little building, pulled down my two layers of pants, and squatted over a low drift that was even lower when I was finished.
The wind, thankfully, blew steadily in one direction. Other than a few giant snowflakes now frozen to my butt, I survived it.
At the last minute, I decided to take another look inside the barn before returning to the house. I’d torn the latter apart looking for any sign of the twenty-first century and found nothing. And if he kept his Uggs and jeans and other things in the barn, maybe I’d find a little blue flashlight out there too.
Then I would know, for sure, if he’d been the one to lead me here.
When I’d come looking for my things, I’d noticed the plaid of dark green with blue lines hanging up and half a dozen hides propped up to dry. I saw where he’d built his fire, and where that little sled had ended up. It still had fifty-pound bags piled on it. The one on top was marked wheat.
Smaller bags were labeled sugar and coffee. There was a sack of tea and one marked salt. No fancy logos. Just practical packaging that would keep the water out. I snooped inside awhite cloth sack and found a jar of berry preserves, some hot sauce, and brown sauce, whatever that was.
