That was why this was so hard for Lila now. There was nothing she could do to help Dawn and that was precisely what Dawn explained to her in gestures that Lila easily understood but objected to.
Dawn in return patted Lila’s protruding stomach.
Lila sighed. “I know, Paul reminds me of the same, the babe comes first.”
Dawn nodded vigorously.
“At least let me tend your wounds,” Lila said.
Dawn nodded and smiled. It would do them good to share this. It would make Lila feel that at least she had done something to help Dawn. And Dawn needed this calming and caring time with Lila before she faced Cree once again.
Unfortunately, Flanna burst through the door out of breath. Lila and Dawn helped her to a chair and she struggled between breaths to deliver her message.
It turned Dawn pale when Lila said, “Cree wants her now?”
Flanna quickly explained that Colum searched for her. And that he was pleased that the prisoner Cree had requested her return. He had ordered a basket of food to be prepared quickly and that candles were to be added to it. He had then sent Goddard to the kitchen to collect Dawn. When he didn’t find her there someone in the kitchen suggested that she was probably at Flanna’s cottage. As soon as Flanna had returned to the kitchen and heard she had rushed to Dawn.
Dawn wanted no contact with Goddard and saw she and Flanna immediately left Dawn’s cottage and hurried to the kitchen. She snatched up the waiting basket and was on the way to Cree when she met up with Goddard.
He sneered at her and leaned close to whisper, “The scent of him better be strong on you along with some information or you’ll soon find my scent heavy on you.”
She didn’t acknowledge his remark with a nod or a gesture; she simply continued walking, her legs trembling terribly.
John, the guard, said nothing to her when she stopped in front of him. He opened the door and kept his distance from her letting her enter of her own accord and then closed and latched it behind her.
Dawn heard Cree stir in the corner where he usually sat. The food she had placed on the blanket was still there, though barely touched. He didn’t acknowledge her presence and so she moved to the blanket and began gathering the food to place in the basket she had left there. Keeping her hands busy also kept her mind occupied since she would rather not think of what was to come.
Rain clouds had fast moved in obliterating the sun and promising rain possibly for the remainder of the day. That meant the hut would lack light and though she had the candles she didn’t know if she should use them. She feared that the more clearly she could see Cree the more frightening he would appear.
The decision was made for her when she removed the candles from the basket to get at the meat pie beneath. Once Cree saw them he grabbed them.
“Finally light,” he grumbled and quickly set to lighting them.
He took a hunk of bread and scooped out the middle and inserted a candle creating a holder for it. He lit three more and did the same placing them around the blanket. He then turned his dark eyes on Dawn.
His murderous glare sent a chill racing through her clear down to her bones. He appeared ready to kill and she had no doubt that his look alone could send a man to his knees and have him begging for mercy.
“Who did this to you?” he demanded.
It was a harsh whisper that warned of retribution if not answered and Dawn reacted instinctively. She scrambled to her feet and backed away from him hoping the shadows would swallow her and protect her.
He was on his feet before the first shadow wrapped around her.
Chapter Eight
Cree grabbed her arm and her face pinched in pain. He cursed releasing her and scooped her up to carry her back to the blanket. He sat her close to the candles and gently pushed up the sleeve of her blouse.
His temper soared once again upon seeing the handprint that had left a large purple bruise, bound to grow worse by morning, around her upper arm. On closer examination he thought he saw two different prints and it fired his temper even more that two men had laid hands on her.
He then wondered if she had been hurt elsewhere or worse... “Has someone forced himself on you?”
She shook her head.
“Where else have you been hurt and don’t bother to lie to me or I’ll strip you bare and see for myself.”
She had no doubt that he would and so she lifted her skirt to show him her right leg.
He winced at the skin that had been rubbed raw from her knee down along her shin with a substantial bruise forming just beneath her knee. He didn’t hesitate; he reached for the bucket of water and placed it beside him. He then took the cloth that had covered one of the baskets, soaked and rinsed it in the bucket and began to clean her leg.
Her leg jumped from the pain.