Free Tangled (Handfasting) by Becca St. John Page B

at a door than to
pull on a lever that was no more than a simple wooden doll.
    That
great ham, she had once thought an ox, was too close to give her any room to
maneuver. Still she tried to push, tried to force the door by slamming her
weight against it. If only the ham hadn’t been in the way. She jiggled and
cajoled the latch, but it didn’t give. Exhausted she slid down the wall of
wood, used her feet to push at the offending meat.
    The
ham swung right back, knocking her head against the oak planes of the door,
nearly breaking her nose with the mass of it. She could swear she heard Ian’s
laughter with the ringing of her head.
    “It’s
not funny!”  She snapped.
    Aye it’s funny but not so funny as you not seeing what’s in front of
you!
    Maggie
stilled, no longer aware of the darkness, no longer frantic to escape or too
exhausted to do anything about it. This time, when she shoved at the huge hunk
of meat, she moved out of its way. Certain enough, she felt the air move as it
countered the swing, coming back. The door creaked, the hinges rattled.
    With
no thought but freedom Maggie moved down the line of hams, setting them
swinging on their hooks, one after another until she reached the last one. This
one she pulled back, held it as high as she could then let it go to ram into
the already moving line, forcing them to careen hard against the door.
    The
first effort echoed a thundering shake of the portal but not enough to break
through. Determined, she tried again and again, willing the wood to weaken, to
crack, to break the hardware locked in place. To do anything to offer hope. Something
she could use to get free of the caves.
     
    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     
    His
men were mounted, the horses restless. At the very least, Talorc thought Maggie
would see him off. He had expected that much, especially now that she knew what
he was about. But something had her running off to the kitchens and he had a
good idea what it was.
    Talking
to Seonaid had seemed right at the time. Would have been if Maggie knew the
full situation, but Maggie didn’t. Nobody knew and he couldn’t tell them, even
though it had so much to do with what was happening.
    He
needed Maggie to trust him. If she didn’t, then he would have to live with the
consequences. If she didn’t want to be there for his departure, he wouldn’t
lower himself to ask where she was.
     One
more time he would check their supplies and then, Maggie or not, he would be
gone.
    She
still hadn’t come by the time he was astride, too much time wasted. Everyone
was ready, waiting on him. He raised his arm in a final wave, opened his mouth
to signal their departure when another shout stopped him.
    He
reared his horse in the effort to turn toward the caller who ran toward him,
her clothes askew, her hair a tangle.
    “Stop
Bold.”  She shouted. “You just wait now.”
    He
couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. She was coming to him, all mussed from
some adventure, but she was coming and of her own free will.
    When
she reached his horse she bent over, hands on her knees, heaving for breath. Some
kind of dust covered her from top to tail. An aroma of cured meats rose from
her.
    “What
is it lass?”  He dismounted, alarmed now that he realized she wasn’t disheveled
from play.
    “Got
myself locked in the meat room.”  There was a hiccup of fear in her laughter. Her
hand was shaking as she pulled tangled hair from her face. “And I wasn’t afraid
of the dark.”  She tried to chuckle despite the edge of tears he was certain
she fought.
    “Who
let you out?”
    She
stilled at that, turning as though searching the crowd gathered. There was no hint
of humor left when she looked back at him. “I got myself out, but I’m afraid
I’ve broken the door.”
    William
joined them. “You had to break the door?  It’s stout for a lass.”
    “I
swung the meat. The weight of it pushed the moorings out.”
    “Wait,”
Talorc held up his hand. “You were locked in