Page 62 of Beyond the Cottage

Ansel cursed himself for not owning a watch with an alarm mechanism. “Gretta. It’s not happening.”

“Bullshit, we’re going. I’ll help row.”

“You’re not approaching this logically.”

“Fucklogic! I’m not spending the night in a witch’s house!” Her voice rose, but her breathing seemed normal, so he remained where he sat.

“Just think about this,” he said. “You’re wary of Isobel, and I understand. But after meeting her, do you truly believe she’ll physically attack you?”

“I have no idea what she’s capable of. All I know is I don’ttrusther.”

Ansel sighed. He’d been a fool to think one afternoon could undo years of hatred and suspicion. “Whatever your concerns, you must realize she’s better than the alternative. At least here you won’t end up an eviscerated, bloated corpse.”

“You know what I actually realize?” Her eyes widened, then slitted. “She did this on purpose. She put something in the water to make us sleep.”

“Why would she do that?”

“To push us together for a night. She made it clear she’s clinging to the delusion we’ll be friends again.”

Fucking Isobel.He knew she hadn’t poisoned the water, but he also should have known better than to hope she’d mind her own business when she and Gretta had talked. “Then she’s sentimental and misguided. That doesn’t mean she’d compromise her entire water supply to play matchmaker.”

“There’s something not right about her, Ansel. I feel it. Even if she didn’t poison us, she’s not who she pretends to be.”

He couldn’t exactly deny that. Isobel had secrets, big ones he suspected, and she was evasive about her life before the swamp. However, in the years he’d known her, she’d treated him with nothing but generosity and understanding. And far be it from him to blame anyone who shied from their colorful past.

“Isobel can be enigmatic,” he conceded. “And overbearing. And meddlesome. But she’s well-intentioned. She won’t harm you.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s my friend. She knows hurting you would hurt me.”

Gretta turned her back on him and stared at the yard.

He went quiet. She needed time to work it out and come to terms with the circumstances. Pushing her would only make her feel cornered.

After several minutes, she sat beside him and put her head in her hands. “I don’t want to do this.”

“I know.”

“I can’t shake the feeling it’s a really bad idea.”

Ansel waited without responding.

Finally, she straightened with a long exhale. “But this is my own fault, I guess. I should have tried harder to stay awake.” She faced him, anxiously fidgeting with the braids on her belt. “You gave me conditions for coming here. I have my own for staying.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m starving, but I still don’t trust her. I want you to taste everything she gives me.”

“Done.”

“And I don’t want to be alone with her again. Her magic is weak, and I could probably take her physically, but since I’munarmed—” He’d frisked her before they got on the boat. “—I want you in the room at all times.”

He stifled a smile. Was she asking him to protect her?

“Absolutely,” he said. “Anything else?”

She thought about it then groaned. “I guess not. Other than I get the couch.”

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