Free At the Water's Edge by Sara Gruen

rude.
    â€œSurely you mean kerosene,” I said.
    â€œI think I know what I mean,” he said, turning to leave.
    â€œWait,” I said quickly. “Don’t you want to know our names?”
    â€œNot particularly. What I want is to be in bed.” He slapped his thigh. “Conall,
thig a seo
!”
    The dog went to his side, and they slipped into the shadows behind the bar.
    I was still staring at the place they’d disappeared when Hank and Ellis lurched through the front door, carrying a trunk between them. They dropped it on the worn flagstones and looked around.
    â€œWhere’s the light switch?” Ellis said, squinting as he searched the walls.
    â€œI don’t think there is one,” I said.
    I watched Ellis’s eyes as he scanned the various lamps and sconces around the room. They were all topped by glass globes—oil lamps, every one.
    â€œAre you kidding me? There’s no electricity?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said.
    His eyes glommed onto the radio. “What about that?”
    â€œMaybe it runs on batteries. I don’t know,” I said. “Isn’t the driver going to help you with the luggage?”
    â€œHe took off,” said Hank. “Left everything in the driveway.”
    â€œYou could have just tipped him again,” Ellis said.
    â€œI believe it was your turn,” Hank said.
    Ellis glared at him.
    â€œWhat? It’s only money,” Hank said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. He’s gone, and we need help. Where’s that charming Scotsman?”
    â€œI’m pretty sure he went back to bed,” I said.
    â€œBut we need help. Did you see where he went?” said Hank, craning his neck. His eyes lit on the doorway behind the bar.
    â€œHank, please. Just leave him alone.”

Chapter Seven
    â€œG ood Lord, Maddie—what did you pack? I told you to bring stockings, not gold bullion,” said Hank, dragging one of my suitcases behind him and letting it bang against each step.
    â€œJust some essentials,” I said.
    I was at the top of the stairwell, holding the lamp as Hank and Ellis brought up our luggage. I was freezing and queasy, and the lamp swung accordingly. I was terrified I’d trip and set the carpet on fire.
    â€œAlong with anchors and anvils, apparently,” said Hank, dropping the suitcase and wiping his hands.
    Ellis came up behind him with two hatboxes.
    â€œThat’s everything,” he said.
    â€œNot really,” said Hank. “We still have to get it into the rooms. I don’t know why Maddie wouldn’t just let me rouse Paul Bunyan.”
    â€œShe doesn’t like to discomfit the staff,” said Ellis.
    â€œWhy ever not?” asked Hank, looking at me with surprise. “Isn’t that what staff is for?”
    â€œWell, I would say so, yes,” said Ellis.
    â€œIt’s still not too late to get him, you know,” said Hank.
    â€œYes it is,” I said crossly. “He said we could take any of rooms two through six, so can we please just do that and go to bed?”
    â€œAll right, darling girl,” said Hank, glancing up the row of doors. “I was merely pointing out that it would be faster if we had help. No need to work up a lather.”
    I wobbled toward a hall table so I could ditch the lamp. I was as dizzy as the moment I’d gotten off the ship. If I hadn’t known it was impossible, I’d have sworn the building itself was swaying.
    â€œWhy do you suppose room one is off limits?” said Hank.
    I turned around to find him trying the locked door. “Hank, stop! For Heaven’s sake. Somebody’s probably asleep in there, and every other room is available.”
    He continued to jiggle the knob. “But what if this is the room I want? What if it’s the only one with a decent bath—”
    The door swung inward, tearing the knob from Hank’s hand. He took a long step