by Sarah Hoss
When it was evident he wasn’t anywhere in the yard, she headed back to the house. A sound caught her attention. She focused, hoping to hear it again. It came from the woods.
“That’s as good a place as any to start looking for him,” she said and headed off in the direction of the sound.
She stopped just short of making her presence known. Leaning around a tall tree, she watched him for a moment. What harm could there be in watching? The sight before her was stunning. Alexander was chopping wood and he made it look so easy. His powerful arms lifted the ax into the air, then brought it down, again and again, as if he were swatting flies. He wore only his kilt. His chest was broad and smooth. His skin was tan. Despite the bit of chill that lingered in the air, sweat glistened on his skin. He flooded her senses with overpowering sex appeal, but she acknowledged the strength. She made a mental note to never piss him off.
Sometimes, it doesn’t get any better than this.
“Ye know, it isn’t polite to spy on others.”
She sucked in a gasp and put her hand over her mouth as she tried to hide behind the tree. She could feel heat color her cheeks. Knowing she couldn’t hide there forever, she walked around to face him. She stood with her head down and hands behind her back, like a naughty little schoolgirl standing before the scary head master.
“I only came to see what you were doing, I didn’t mean to spy.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed ye, then.” He stopped what he was doing for a second to look at her.
As she started to turn away, she noticed a bead of sweat leave his chest and mark its way down his belly to disappear into the waist of his kilt. She licked her lips slowly, wishing her tongue could do the same.
Hearing him laugh, she glanced up.
“Marlana, ye could bring a man to his knees with a look like that.”
Complete embarrassment rushed through her. “Humph,” was all she could say. She spun around and left. Alexander’s laugh followed her the whole way.
With all of the wood cut and put near the house, Alexander wanted to find Marlana. She’d plagued his thoughts ever since their meeting in the woods. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings too badly, but the look she gave him disturbed him. Half of him enjoyed the knowledge she clearly found him desirable. The other half was angry that he felt that way and he didn’t want her to look at him as if she found him attractive. If she kept her thoughts to herself, then she would be much easier to dismiss.
Evidence of her working in the garden and cleaning house were clear. But where could she be now?
He rubbed at his furrowed brow. He felt a little frustrated that he couldn’t find anything out about her. Talks between them hadn’t been going well. He was no closer to the truth than he was the first day she’d arrived. Maybe he needed to try a different tactic? Asking the neighbors about a missing woman had turned up no answer. Hamish had been going back into Inverness and he’d asked him to check around and see if there was any mention of her. Still no answers. Now what could he do? He would have to think long and hard. She lingered too long in his mind. His eyes darted around too often in search of her. The sooner he could figure her out, the sooner he could send her away.
Supper took a lot longer than usual. Marlana attempted to cook, but burnt her fingers on the cast iron pot.
“Come here, lass, and let me look at it.”
Marlana walked over to him, sucking on her burnt fingers. His groin tightened. The way her lips played on her fingers brought images of her lips doing that to him. He shook his head.
“Ye have to be careful.” He held her hands, examining her soft skin. They were small compared to his.
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” She winced.
When Marlana leaned her head in to look at her fingers, her hair slid over her shoulder, brushing his cheek. He inhaled her scent and closed his eyes for a moment. Leaning back, he realized she had spoken. He was thankful that she still had her head down.
“What did ye say?
She glanced over at him. “I said I miss my stove.”
“Who is stove?”
Marlana laughed. “It’s not a who, silly. A stove is what I cooked on back home.”
Alexander dropped her hand and stepped away, bristling at the word silly. “Since ye have no understanding of my archaic way of cooking, I will finish.”
He grabbed the spoon and began to stir the pot, wincing when he heard the bedroom door slam. “Damn.”
“Marlana, come and sit.”
Jolting out of her thoughts, Marlana turned to look at Alexander. He had spoken to her and though it was a request, she could hear the hint of command in his tone. She rose from the bed and followed him to the table.
The legs of the chair scratched against the floor, breaking the silence. She laid her hands on the table, fingers interlocked. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Aye, it will be fine.” He slid a plate of beef, cheese, and bread over to her and sat down.
“A penny for your thoughts?” She smiled at him, weakly. Her stomach growled at the delicious aroma that greeted her.
He cocked his head. “I want ye to tell me everything about ye.”
She sighed. Here it goes again. He wanted answers to questions that she couldn’t give him.
“Let’s start with where are ye from?”
“America.”
His eyes grew big for a split second. That answer always threw him for a moment and it was the closest she had ever gotten to reading any kind of emotion or thought from him.
“What’s your given name?”
“Marlana Lauren Crawford.” She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, food forgotten. Studying him, she said, “We have been over this a hundred times. The truth of it is, the answers you seek, you can’t have. You won’t believe anything I tell you.”
“Why would ye think I won’t believe ye? Ye haven’t given me a fair chance.” He leaned back in his chair and put an arm over the back. “Are ye afraid of something or someone?”
She laughed. “Yes, actually. I am.” She stood and paced the floor. “I’m afraid I’m losing my mind.” She stopped and stared out the window, her voice growing more serious. “Most of all, I’m afraid that you will believe me and all of this isn’t a dream.”
She knew he could hear the truth in her words because they came from her frightened heart. She turned to look at him and spoke softly. “And I’m afraid that if all of this is true, I’ll never get home.”
Taking two steps toward him, she paused. What did he want her to say? She moved closer and stopped.
She watched as he turned to study the fire and knew her words confused him. She could tell he was angry that she wouldn’t confide in him and she hated to upset him. What she didn’t know was how to tell him the truth and how to get the hell home. What was she supposed to do? She knew the history of these times and the moment she spoke of being from the future, she would be staked and burned. Hell, even she had a hard time believing her situation.
“Marlana, you must confide in me, tell me something.”
She stomped toward him. He sat up a little straighter and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was on guard. “Damn it, I can’t. Why can’t you understand that?” Her hands gripped into tight fists as aggravation screamed to be let out. How much longer could she hold her feelings inside?
Alexander stood. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he gave her a light shake.
“What I understand is that I have a stranger living in my home and I doona know one thing about ye. Am I supposed to just sit here and take your secrets?” He knew he could not help her get home until he knew more about her, yet he couldna send her away, either. He wanted to, but he didn’t know where to send her and he knew that he couldna leave her just any
where.
Marlana tried to get out of his grip, but he was holding on too tightly. Fire flashed in her eyes.
He was amused at seeing her so angry, so quickly. She had been moping around for days. He scanned her face, leveling on her lips and the image of her in the woods popped into his mind. He let go and stepped away from her as if he might get burned.
“Okay, I get it,” she said, gritting her teeth and rubbing her arms. “I’m leaving.” Turning on her heel, she ran to the bedroom to pack.
He yelled back to her. “I think that would be a wise decision. I’ll hook up the wagon and drive ye myself.”
Slamming the door, he stalked out to the barn and gripped the fence with all his might. He rocked back and forth, growling under his breath. She was infuriating. Getting the truth from her was like ripping out a stump. Shaking his head, he stood straight and leaned against the fence rail. Something caught his attention and he focused on the sound. Soft crying came from the house and he knew the source. “Damn,” he said as he trekked back to the house.
He reached for her elbow to help her stand, then gently lifted her chin.
“I’m sorry.” Her apology came on a defeated breath.
He hugged her to him. “Me, too, lass.”
Marlana sat, tapping her fingers on the table, wondering what she should do next. They couldn’t play this game forever. She laid her head down, trying to ease the headache. Visions of home danced through her mind and tears welled in her eyes. Sighing, she brushed them away like an unwanted visitor. She had to find a way back.
She sat up, then straightened her shoulders, and went to wash dishes. She needed something to do with her hands to keep her mind from wandering.
Just as she put the last dish away, Alexander came back inside. A small burst of rain blew in with him and she shivered, despite the warmth of the room. The air that followed was crisp and clean and she inhaled deeply. He still wore only his kilt and stockings, but they only came up to the knee. Part of his thigh showed and she wondered to herself how he could stand to dress like that in the cold and rain?
To her horror, she hadn’t realized she had said it out loud, until he answered her.
“We Scotsmen have skin like leather. Besides, it is always raining, I’m used to it.”
He laughed and she couldn’t help but smile back, releasing a little of the tension.
He went to the table and poured some whisky. The deep amber color looked inviting. She’d had a shot once at a bar back home. It wasn’t something she would want to drink all the time, but she could handle it. “May I have some?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do ye drink, then?” When she nodded, he stood and fetched another glass.
He filled it about a quarter full.
“I drink on occasion, but I’m not a heavy drinker.”
“Ye may want to ...”
She tipped the glass and downed all of its contents.
“... sip it,” he finished.
Instantly, her eyes began to water, like the flood gates had been let open and she couldn’t seem to control them. Her throat burned and she could feel the fiery path all the way down to her stomach. She raised her hand to her heated cheek and wouldn’t have been surprised if flames had jumped off her face and scorched the walls. She started to cough.
Alexander came around and pounded her on the back. “Are ye all right, lass?” She was incapable of speech and shook her head. She waved her hand at him, motioning for him to go sit down.
He laughed as he went to his chair. “First, ye looked quite red. Now, ye look green. Are ye sure ye are well?”
When she finally got herself under control, she noticed she was well on her way to a great buzz with only one shot. How sad was that? Though she had a small frame, that whisky of his could take down a seasoned drunk. She had a mind to tell him, too. The whisky was warm—she would not be cold for a long time.
He poured her a little more. “Sip it,” he said with a wink. “It will be better the second time.”
She took a sip, hesitantly, and found once she got passed the initial shock, it was good. An acquired taste, for sure.
Time passed and they chatted amiably. She was getting drunk and he got entertainment. He poured her a little more, though, eyeing her as if trying to decide if this was a good idea or not.
At one point, during a lull in conversation, he stoked the fire and added another log. She was still quite warm from the whisky, and now, with the fire blazing, she was smothering. She stood and took her sweatshirt off, then excused herself to go to the outhouse.
Walking a straight line proved quite challenging. At one point, she stubbed her toe. “Ouch, shit.” Looking around, she realized she’d hit the edge of a woodpile.
What should have taken her only a few minutes, took her a lot longer. When she finally got back to the house, she found him waiting at the door.
Tilting his head with what looked to be an I knew this would happen, shit-eating grin on his face, she rolled her eyes.
“I was about to come looking for ye. I thought, maybe, as ye might have gotten lost.” She could hear the humor in his voice. When she peered up again, the smile on his face had gotten bigger, showing white straight teeth.
“You have nice teeth.” She hiccupped as she walked passed him, slightly pushing him out of the way. She found her chair at the table and sat down before she fell, trying to stop her head from spinning.
“It wouldn’t be the first time I became lost,” she said just as flat as she could, then hiccupped loudly. She placed her hand over her mouth in shock. “Good gracious.”
“Explain what ye mean, lass?”
“Pour me another drink and I’ll tell ya about it.” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“No,” he said with finality in his voice. She reached for the bottle and he snatched it away. “Ye are quite drunk enough.”
“Whatever.” She flipped her hand in the air, then began to sing like a canary. She told him everything. About her parents and their deaths. About Alan and how he broke her heart. She mentioned Lilly and Victoria and their gift of the trip to Scotland. She told him of all the sightseeing she had done and how she’d stumbled across the cottage.
“The moment I stepped a foot in it, I knew I had to have it. I had to be here. I swear I could feel your presence.” She studied him for a second, wondering what he was thinking.
“I dreamt of you, you know.” She hiccupped rather loudly again and put her hand to her mouth as if she could hold the rest in. “Yes, sir, almost every night for the past year. The dreams started right after that lousy son-of-a-bitch dumped me.”
She laughed as she watched shock cross Alexander’s face. “Sorry.” She ran her hands through her hair.
“The dreams are always the same. You’re trying to tell me something and I can’t reach you or hear you.” She stood and began to pace while she talked, no longer able to sit still. She wasn’t doing a good job of it, really, more like stumbling around. The whisky made her brave. She couldn’t bear the weight of the secret and loneliness any longer. She was afraid and she needed help.
She stopped, letting her gaze linger on him. She very much wanted him to believe her. She sighed and began to pace again. All the while, she toyed with her pendant.
“That last day, there seemed to be an odd feeling. At night, I sat outside and I saw a shooting star. So I wished on it.” She snuck a sideways glance at him and blushed.
She put her hands up in the air. “I know, it sounds stupid, but I was here in Scotland and the dreams felt more intense. I was lonely.” She walked over by the fire and stood, staring into the flames, letting herself be hypnotized. She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.
Alexander stood, then, and approached her. “What ye are saying isn’t likely to have happened. Maybe y
e fell and hit yer head and are just confused.”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Anguish squeezed her chest and she stared up at him, followed by a yawn. Alexander scooped her into his arms and started for the bedroom. She laid her head on his shoulder. That’s when she remembered.
She rolled her head against his shoulder and sleepily tapped his arm. “My bag. Alex, if you don’t believe me, look in my bag.” That was her last conscious thought before she passed out in his arms.
CHAPTER 9
The hand that touched Marlana’s cheek was rough, but gentle, and she turned into it. Heat radiated through the fingers that stroked her and she smiled. Her body responded instantly to the touch. She could hear someone talking to her, telling her to get up, but her mind wanted the voice to join her in the bed. She licked her lips at the thought. The voice grew louder, the noise blaring like a bullhorn. She flinched. Her head hurt. Marlana placed her hands over her ears, suddenly awake.
“Get up and take a look out the window,” the voice said again. She tried to focus, but sleep was winning and bringing her back down into oblivion. The entire bed shook from being jostled around. She screamed, then sat up quickly and tried to get her bearings, but soon realized sitting up that quickly was the wrong thing to do. She put her hands on her head and tried to keep the room from spinning, hoping the pain would go away.
“Ye doona look very well. Does your head hurt?”
Was he laughing? It irked her to think he found amusement in her situation. “Do you have to speak?” She tried to whisper, yet the sound of her own voice boomed even louder in her ears. She turned her head when he pulled back the little curtain and sun poured in to greet her. Squinting her eyes didn’t help. She would swear the man was enjoying this.