Had a habit of command kicked in that didn’t allow her even to contemplate things getting out of hand? Whatever, he concluded with an inward smile, it was rather intriguing and refreshing. Not that he’d do anything about it…
So why—he posed the question to himself—was he not more… absolutely furious about the current state of affairs? True, he’d been frustrated and irritable when trying to saw through the door, he’d been incredulous and angry when it had first happened, but…
He shrugged. All the same, he was going to have to come up with something tomorrow. He stared upwards. If he could figure out a way to get up to the roof, that might be his best shot after all.
Maggie arranged herself as best she could on the back seat of the car, only to discover that sleep suddenly seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind.
She was confused, she realized. Confused, tense and annoyed with herself. What an incredibly stupid thing to do! Would she ever grow out of these rash, hot-headed impulses that plagued her from time to time? When would they get out of this wretched shed?
Well, that explained the tension and the annoyance, she reasoned, but what was she confused about?
Jack McKinnon, it came to her. It seemed to be impossible to tear her thoughts away from him! Because she didn’t understand him? Was that so surprising? She barely knew him, but, going on what she did know of him, his reactions had been rather surprising.
Yes, there was still that underlying contempt, there had been open contempt, but he could have made things much more uncomfortable for her. He could have treated her far more severely and scathingly… Had she misjudged him? Well, no, he had offered the first insult. Then again, that had obviously been based on her father’s reputation.
All the same, she hadn’t expected to end up liking him…
She sighed exasperatedly and closed her eyes.
Jack woke up at three o’clock.
As he glanced at his watch he was amazed that he’d slept so long; he didn’t need much sleep. What also amazed him was the sight of Maggie Trent asleep at the table with her head pillowed on her arms.
He sat up abruptly and the rusty springs of the sofa bed squeaked in protest.
Maggie started up, wide-eyed and alarmed. ‘Who… what…?’
‘Only me,’ he said reassuringly. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I… just couldn’t sleep. It was like being in a coffin, no, a hearse,’ she corrected herself. ‘I felt seriously claustrophobic.’
‘You should have told me earlier!’
She eyed him, then smiled, a faint little smile of pure self-mockery. ‘I do sometimes find it hard to admit I could be wrong about—things.’
He grimaced, then had to laugh. ‘OK.’ He got up. ‘That admission earns you a spell on the bed.’
‘Oh, you definitely wouldn’t fit into the car, so—’
‘Don’t argue, Maggie,’ he ordered. ‘I have no intention of trying the car anyway.’
‘But it’s only three o’clock,’ she pointed out. ‘What will you do?’
‘Seriously apply myself to getting us out of here. Come on, do as you’re told.’
Maggie got up reluctantly, but she sank down onto the sofa bed with a sigh of relief. Then she frowned. ‘Does that mean you haven’t been serious about getting us out of here until now?’
He glanced at her. Her hair was spread across the pillow and even in the feeble light her eyes were discernibly green—he couldn’t remember knowing anyone with those colour eyes, he thought, then remembered her father. Of course. His mouth hardened.
‘Let’s just say I don’t like being thwarted.’ He turned away.
‘Did that annoy you,’ she asked, ‘me saying you weren’t serious?’
He shrugged. ‘It reminded me that I’ve been in this damn shed for long enough.’
‘You’ve been—for the most part—you’ve been pretty good about it. I do appreciate that.’
‘Yes, well, why don’t you go to sleep?’
She didn’t answer immediately, then, ‘The more I think about it, the roof is the only way to go. I hate to say I told you so, but if we could get up there somehow, it is only an old tin roof and maybe we could prise one of the sheets open or apart or something. I’m actually quite good at climbing.’