Page 21 of A Curse On Black Lake
“Sure, but I’ll pay you for them.”
She shrugs and places a few in my hand. “Don’t worry about it.” Eliana puts the rest of the bars in her little basket and unclips it from the bike. Limping back over to the rise of the ditch, she attempts to climb out, but bumps her leg and curses under her breath.
“Here, let me help you,” I say and pick her up, carrying her bridal style to where the ditch flattens out, and I can walk up it with her in my arms.
“Thanks,” she rasps.
“Yeah, no problem.”
I set her on her feet and then slide back into the ditch to get her bike.
“Dammit,” she mutters.
“I can give you a ride, but I’m going to ask one more time do —”
“No, please stop asking. I don’t… my grandma doesn’t —didn’tbelieve in modern medicine and neither do I,” she says.
I frown. To each their own, but that’s kind of weird. Then again, Juniper Greer was the medicine woman in this town, I can understand that. “But you know, getting a cat scan isn’t a bad thing.” She sighs and tilts her head.
“Fine, but I’m taking you back to my place to help you clean up that cut,” I tell her, leaving no room for discussion.
She purses her lips. “Fine,” she says as if I’m the one inconveniencing her.
I help her up into the truck and put her bike in the truck bed.
When I get in and start driving down the road, I glance at her again. She keeps taking quick peeks at me and then looks away. “I know with concussions someone should wake you up every couple hours. I don’t really think I have one, but then again I was knocked out, so I probably do.” I nod, remembering some of the light training I received as law enforcement.
“I’ll set an alarm or something,” she mutters and looks out the window.
“You don’t have a friend you can call?” I ask her.
“No,” she whispers.
When we get to my land, I pull up next to the farmhouse, where a gravel driveway runs across the front, next to the wrap-around porch. The house is white, always has been, and the green metal roof still shines in the sun.
Eliana pushes her door open, and then her basket goes tumbling out. She curses and mutters to herself, but it sounded like she was responding to herself, which is again, weird. I’m starting to understand why she doesn’t have friends to call.
She grumbles, trying to pick them all up. Now, the edge of her sock is almost drenched in blood. “Here, just take the rest,” she says and shoves the basket into my arms.
“Um, thanks,” I tell her and set it on the ground.
“Let’s get you inside.” I wrap an arm around her waist, and an electric shock goes through me.
She gasps and leans away, the look she gave me earlier returning to her features.
It almost felt like when I shocked myself trying to fix one of the light fixtures in the barn and I didn’t shut off the power, too much in a hurry.
I clear my throat and reach for her again. She almost hesitates for me to help her limp into the house, but lets me do it anyway.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
Reaching across her, I unlock the door and push it open.
“Killian,” I grunt, helping her limp into the kitchen off to the side.
“That’s right,” she says to herself. I can feel her eyes on my profile as I pull a chair out at the table and help her sit down while I get my first aid kit from the bathroom. Out here, most people have a few extra things since it’s hard to get to a hospital.There is a clinic, but it’s not great. Many go to Ms. Greer. Luckily, I never had to, but I have stitched myself up a time or two.
“Then stop and let me do it. I understand what you’re saying, but that doesn’t help me right now.” I hear her saying under her breath as I come back into the kitchen.
