Page 38 of Robin and Marian
Little John immediately backtracked with an uneasy grimace. “I mean, what do you want?”
“You mind letting me in?” The sheriff was like a wolf at the door, and the three little pigs were hiding inside.
“You good with dogs?” John returned.
The sheriff stayed where he was. “Look, I’ve reason to believe that you might be hiding a fugitive in here. You want to prove me wrong?”
Little John laughed in his face. “You mind telling me who this fugitive might be?”
“Robin King.”
He laughed even harder. “You think I stashed his body somewhere here?”
“Something like that. Why don’t I take a look around?”
“Come back with a warrant and we’ll talk.”
The sheriff’s lips tightened. “I was hoping you’d make this easy on me. If he’s not here, then I’ll be on my way.”
“Nah, I’m not in the mood for a wild goose chase. Go look for him somewhere else.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed at him, and he picked up his walkie talkie and talked through it. “Hi, Little John.” His voice reverberated in John’s pocket. The sheriff smiled shrewdly and tucked it back into his belt. “What were you doing in the forest? Poaching?”
“No, that’s illegal.” John said.
“So is hiding a fugitive. Talk to me.” When Little John didn’t answer, the sheriff ran his tongue across his teeth, pulling back the intensity to spit on the ground. “Maybe we can look over your records instead. I was just in the neighborhood collecting taxes. How are those interest loans treating you? You ready for your next payment?”
Little John stiffened. He rolled his hand into a fist and tapped it against the side of his shed in sudden decision. “You thirsty? Come into my house for a drink and we’ll talk about it.”
Crossing his arms, the sheriff nodded. Once. This seemed like a usual occurrence. John pushed his dogs' muzzles aside to slide out of the chain link fence and close it behind him. The sheriff pointed at the heavy exterior gate. “Aren’t you going to lock the place up? Someone might get in.”Or out.When John shook his head, the sheriff made it an order. “Lock it up nice and tight. We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to those dogs.”
Sighing heavily, Little John rolled the gate shut, further fortifying the area like a fortress as he closed Robin and Marian inside. The locks clicked heavily. And just like that, they were trapped in the shipping yard with all of Little John’s dogs.
It was one way to get Marian alone with him.
Marian shifted against Robin’s strong chest, trying to fight her racing pulse. She heard his heart against her ear, too, and it was going crazy. The ground where she sat was hard with dirt, and her legs were smashed up against the logs. Robin’s arm was around her waist to keep her from ramming headfirst into them. At least, she assumed that was why. “My arm is falling asleep,” she whispered.
He wasn’t paying attention, just stared at the closed fence. “When the sheriff comes back, we shouldn’t be here,” he said.
A few yards from the woodpile lay the guts of the mill where the saws and conveyer belts were stored with the other heavy machinery in the warehouse. “You think we could get out that way?”
He nodded.
Taking a steadying breath, she wrenched herself out of the hiding spot. Robin tried to guide her out, but he was stuck himself. He grunted when she caught the side of his head with her foot. “Easy!” His lip curled up.
She stretched her aching muscles and twisted back to stare down at him. He grinned up at her and reached. The arm he held out was the one with that trickster tattoo. It felt strangely symbolic as she took his pliant hand in hers and did her best to pry him loose.
It was harder than she had thought, and she almost fell on him again, laughing, albeit a little hysterically as the dogs came rushing around them. There was one growling behind the motley pack, but as long as it didn’t rile the others up, they might be okay.
Finally, she got Robin to his feet, and he caught onto her for balance and pulled her into a tight embrace. She knew it was on purpose. His smell was becoming familiar to her—his musky scent was like getting lost in a deep forest. His eyes met hers. They were full of questions that she couldn’t read. Maybe she didn’t want to. Squeezing her with that same emotion, he released his hand from her waist to let her step back.Shakily.
They only had so much time before the sheriff returned from the cabin, or maybe a deputy with a warrant. She had to get back in control. It felt like Robin had thrown her into a rock tumbler so that she didn’t know up from down. Going to the mill’s chained doors, she saw there was a crack where they could shimmy inside. She slid through. A few dogs popped in after her while Robin forced his way in too.
He chuckled breathlessly when he got in. “I should cut back on those croissants.”
There was nothing wrong with him—no, in fact, she liked that he’d filled out his frame and left his photoshoot days far behind. He looked manlier, and more like he could protect her—she smiled—not that he’d need to.
He wandered past the trimming table and the crosscut saw as they explored the warehouse to find an exit, but John had chained up all the doors. The windows on the side of the street were too far off the ground to be of much help. The others facing the water would mean a dangerous leap into the lake.
