“It needs cleaning and I do not have a light touch,” he said unapologetically and continued cleaning it. “This wound appears as if you were dragged. Who did this?”
It was not a request and while she did not wish to answer him, she knew she had little choice. And she knew this was only the start of his questions. But why should he care what happened to her? Then she recalled him telling her that he protected what belonged to him. And for some unfathomable reason he believed that she belonged to him.
She did what she had to do; she answered him. She pointed to the door.
“The one called John?” Cree asked understanding her.
She nodded.
“It looks as if two men left their prints on your arm. Who?”
She pointed again to the door.
“John and who else?”
She held her left hand up to a short height and placed her right hand next to it at a higher height.
Again he easily understood her. “Colum’s right hand man Goddard?”
She was not surprised that he understood her gesture but she was surprised that he knew the man’s name, though he probably had learned about Goddard when he had been captured.
She confirmed with another nod.
Cree looked up at her now and again as he worked on her leg, watching to see if he was causing her too much pain. But she appeared to bear his brute tending with patient courage. Her shin looked much better once he cleaned it, though the bruise had darkened and would no doubt pain her until healed as would her arm.
Once he deposited the cloth in the bucket he rested a gentle finger to her bruised cheek. “Did Colum do this?”
She nodded.
“How many times did he hit you?”
She held up two fingers.
“Why did he hit you?” He saw the hesitation in her eyes. “You’ll not keep it from me; I’ll have my answer.”
Somehow she thought that he always got his answer and with whatever means possible, though she had never expected that he would tend her. And she never expected that he would care that she’d been hurt... though as he had told her... she belonged to him.
She answered, pointing to him and then to herself, then she held up her hands and gave a shove in the air.
Cree had already surmised that he had been the cause but to hear it, he almost laughed at the absurdity of hearing a mute and yet he had heard her and much too clearly. He did not like the idea that she had suffered because of his own foolishness.
“I sent you away so Colum punished you,” he said to confirm what he had suspected.
She nodded, though much too slowly for Cree.
There was more than she was telling him. “Why else did he punish you?”
Dawn felt trapped more than she ever had in her life. And having no voice to speak her mind, cry out her sorrow or pain or even laugh made her feel trapped beyond measure. But now stuck between Colum and Cree she wasn’t sure who to fear most. Lying to either one of them could bring her suffering, but what was she to do?
Cree gently caught her chin with his fingers. “You will tell me and I will protect you.”
But who will protect me from you?
Dawn didn’t know what to do and thankfully Cree saved her from having to make a choice.
“Colum expects you to get information from me, doesn’t he?”
She nodded with relief. She hadn’t told him; he had realized it himself and so she did not feel guilty of divulging the truth. But what now that he knew? Surely he would not share information with her.
He released her chin, though his fingers drifted to her bruised cheek and faintly traced the purple area. “I will not see you suffer for me.”
Dawn didn’t know what he could do to stop Colum. He was locked away, a prisoner, while Colum was free to do as he pleased. And he was one man against many, though if his reputation proved true that would matter little. It was said that he alone could kill dozens of men and yet he touched her now with tenderness that surprised her. She had not thought him capable of compassion, but his gentle caress told her differently.
“You will obey me and I will see that you are kept safe.”
Obey. It seemed as if she forever obeyed someone but then it was necessary to survival and she would do what she must to survive. Her mum had taught her that and so much more. She had taught her that to survive she had to have patience, listen, hear, and learn.
Was she not hearing something he was trying to tell her?
She took his hand that rested on her cheek and she thought she felt him startle, though it was such a brief reaction that she couldn’t be certain. She squeezed it and then pointed around the confined space and at the locked door.
He leaned close, his hand resting in hers, and his warm breath fanning her face. “You wonder how I can protect you while locked away in here.”