Part 18 (1/2)
”Well, of course,” he said.
She looked like she was going to hit him. Indeed, it was only by sheer instinct that he managed to duck in time to avoid her swing.
”You jerk!” she exclaimed.
He straightened and looked at her with wide eyes. ”Me?”
She swung again.
Gideon jerked back. ”Good heavens, Megan, have you lost your mind? I'm helping you!”
”I don't want your help, you big idiot!” ”But why ever not-” She advanced and he retreated. Amazing how one could still see murder in another's eyes by candlelight. ”I can't believe you!” she exclaimed. ”What in the world makes you think I need to be fixed?” ”Fixed? How did you-” He ducked instinctively, prepared for another blow, but this one came at him from a different angle. Her foot connected solidly with his s.h.i.+n.
”Ouch, d.a.m.n it,” he said, jerking his candle. He wasn't sure what hurt worse, her shoe in his s.h.i.+n or the hot wax on his fingers. ”Megan, I don't think you realize what you're turning down.”
”I realize exactly what I'm turning down,” she said, poking him in the chest. ”You're just like the rest of
them. I don't need to be worked on, I don't need to be a project and I don't need any d.a.m.ned career advice! If I want to keep getting fired from now until doomsday, that's my business!”
”But-”
”But nothing! Good night!”
And with that, she slammed out of the kitchen. Gideon heard her stomp across the dining room, then heard the far door slam.
Well, that hadn't gone off well at all. Gideon stood there with the wind making an enormous racket as it came through the cracks under the door and shutters, and wondered why he felt so flat. He'd only been trying to help. And who better to fix her career than him? The countless people he knew, the businesses he owned-why he was a veritable gold mine of corporate ac.u.men and resources! Her reaction to his generous offer was insulting, to say the very least.
He studiously ignored the thought that he'd just made an a.s.s of himself and bruised Megan's feelings in the process. Well, it was a sure sign that he'd put his foot to the wrong path. It was time he took hold of his priorities and wrested his destiny back onto its original course.
”I don't have time to worry about this,” he announced to the kitchen. ”I have work to do. I don't need any of these feminine distractions. My life is full of important tasks.” The wind continued to howl.
What about love?
Gideon turned a jaundiced look on the door. ”I'm certain,” he said crisply, ”when the wind starts blathering on about love that it's far past the time when I should be back at work.”
He turned to the dining room door and held this candle aloft purposefully.
”Tomorrow,” he said, taking a smart step forward, ”I'll be on my way tomorrow!”
His candle flame went out. Another collection of pots crashed to the floor behind him.
”How many b.l.o.o.d.y pots does this inn have?” he demanded of the darkness.
The wind only growled an answer.
Gideon left the kitchen with all due haste.
”Holidays are useless wastes of time,” he said as he made his way up the stairs. ”I'll find myself a proper
set of clothes in the village, then search for another laptop. I've already lost a day.”
He paused on the landing as a most unsettling thought struck him. He tried to push it aside, but it came
back to him, as if someone had whispered it to him.
I think, my lad, that you stand to lose much more than just a day.
Gideon felt chills go down his spine. He peered back down the stairs into the darkened entryway. It
wouldn't have surprised him in the least to have seen someone standing there.
But the entryway was empty.
Gideon straightened. He was hearing things. He nodded to himself and opened the door to his room.
He'd had a very long day and the wind was playing tricks on him. Either that or he'd spent far too much time looking at Megan McKinnon. She unsettled him more than the wind.
Freckles, he decided as he closed his bedroom door behind him, were hazardous to a man's good sense.
Chapter Five.
”Nay, you'll not do it!”
”Out of me way, ye b.l.o.o.d.y Brit, and leave me to me work!”
” Tis a brand new Sterling! This horseless cart cost me newy a bleedin' fortune!”
Ambrose put his head beneath the bonnet of Gideon's car and glared at his companions.
”Will you two cease with this confounded bickering!” he snapped. ”We're here to pull the spark plug wires, not argue over who'll do it!”
Fulbert leaned heavily against the fender. ”I don't think I can lend my aid. That pot banging last eve took all my strength.”
”Ha,” said Hugh, casting him a derisive sneer. ”I flung a far sight more than ye, and look at me in the bloom o' health this morn.”
”We're all under a great amount of physical strain,” Ambrose said sternly, ”but we'll have time enough to rest once the deed is done. Now, we've eight of these slim little cords to pull and precious little time to argue over the pulling of them.”