“Oh come on. So you have a reputation. It’s not exactly a bad one. Besides, I don’t think everyone in the world even still remembers who you are.”
“Everyone here seems to.”
“That’s because you were huge local news for a month. Practically every day we had the Dina Report. I think it might have been on the state graduation exam.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.”
“Don’t blow it out of proportion. Dina, it’s not that big a deal. You did a good thing.”
“I did my job.”
“You did your job well under very difficult circumstances. Jeff can’t say the same.”
“And my fabulous reputation did great things for my marriage, didn’t it?”
“Look, Jeff made his own bed. You just happened to clean up the mess he made. No man can stand that.”
“What was I supposed to do? Let the ship go to hell just to protect Jeff’s ego?” She pulled the thread too hard and the fabric puckered. Crap.
“No. You were supposed to do exactly what you did. Jeff just couldn’t take it that you are a better man than he is.”
Dina worked the thread back into place. “I hate it when you have a point.”
“Then I have no idea how you hang out with me because I have them all the time.”
“Well, this point is pointless anyway because I’m not going to get back out there this trip.”
“Why not?”
“Mom needs me here all the time.”
“There isn’t a soul in that entire town that can sit with her for a couple of hours while you go chat with your Storage Guy? You said you needed to straighten it up anyway, right?”
“Nobody is going to want to sit with Mom all day and she’d prefer I was here. I know where everything is.” Dina smoothed the blanket flat again. No more tugging at strings. It just made a bigger mess.
“So call him. Come up with some pretext and just happen to mention that you’re sorry you had to run off yesterday, but your mom needed you or you left the stove on or something.”
“No, I’ll just let it go. There are other fish in the sea.”
“Does that mean you might think about dipping a line in again?”
“Maybe.” After a name change and possibly plastic surgery so no one could guess who she was.
“Then your Storage Guy served his purpose. I’ll see you and your Mom Saturday and I’m bringing lunch. Email me your order so I can pick it up on the way.”
“Great. Look forward to it.” As much as anything anymore. That name change was sounding better all the time.
* * * *
“I cannot believe the weather here is the same in the spring as it was last fall.” Dina slammed the car door behind her.
“You’re the nutcase moving here. I would have stayed in sunny Florida if I were you.”
“Well, you’re not.”
“Are you at the place?”
“I am.”
“Good. Go get him.” Shelly hung up.
Dina slid her phone back in her purse and headed into the storage facility office. Go get him. Like it was going to be that easy after she’d flipped out and disappeared last October. Paul wasn’t the reason she’d changed jobs and moved back to Ohio. Not the only reason, anyway. She walked through the door trying to stand tall and not look crazy.
Pale green walls, display of boxes, tape and new locks in the corner. Chest high counter. Stout woman with brown hair threaded with gray sitting at the desk.
“Hello, Dina,” said Cecelia jumping up from her seat. Cecelia who had been in the office every other time Dina had been in. “Welcome back. How can I help you?”
You can tell me where Paul is.
That just sounded pathetic. He wasn’t the only reason she’d changed her entire life around. “I wanted to know if I could change the code for the gate. It’s still the last four digits of my ex-husband’s social security number and I’d like to be able to forget that.”
“No problem. What unit is it?”
“Three twenty-two.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last fall when you were in. My daughter had a little girl.” Cecelia gestured to a picture of a baby beside the computer as she pulled a file from the cabinet.
Under normal circumstances Dina would have stopped to admire the tot. Today somebody else’s happy family felt like a measure of failure. “She’s adorable.”
Cecelia tapped at the computer for a minute. “There. You are all set to use the last four digits of your social. Just coming to rearrange? Paul told me you only had time to look around the unit. How is your mother?”
“My mother.” Had Paul told her everything? What was wrong with that man? Or was internet stalking and gossiping what “interested” looked like on him? And in that vein, where was Paul?
“After her knee replacement surgery.”
“She’s fine. Full recovery. She was out of the walker and using a cane before I had to leave. Now she’s just like new.”
“That’s good to hear. So are you planning on working in your unit for a little while today?”
No, I was planning on coming in, clearing the air with Paul and making myself busy until I could ask him for coffee after he closed up for the day, but he isn’t here now, is he? Dina blinked, trying to clear her brain and join the conversation in progress. “Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”
Cecelia put on a big, over bright smile. “No. Not at all. I won’t keep you.” She picked up the phone. “Good luck.”
Why wasn’t Paul here? Had he been a temp while Cecelia visited her daughter? What was he doing now? How likely was it that she would be able to find him? The city’s population could only be about two hundred thousand. Most of them had to be woman and children, so really, how many men did that leave?
Too many, and he wasn’t the only reason she’d come back here. Not the only reason. Just maybe one of the more optimistic reasons. Dina unlocked the door of her unit. Everything was precisely where it had been six months ago as far as she could tell. She dragged the desk chair into the corridor and got to work organizing the mess. There were mugs, but no dishes. Sheets, but no towels. She should have brought a notepad so she could make a list of what she needed to replace.
Half the contents of the unit were piled in the hall when she heard the outside door open. Hopefully whoever it was didn’t need to get through because it was going to be a major undertaking. She poked her head out of the door.
A police officer in a crisp navy blue uniform came around the corner taking his hat off as he neared. He tucked it under his arm still heading purposefully toward her.
“Hello, Officer. How can I— Paul?”
“Hello, Dina. My mother called to let me know you were here.”
“You’re a cop.”
“I was filling in for my mother while she visited my sister and her family.”
“That explains a few things.” His legal hang up for one. His shape for two. Not a gym bunny then. In shape for professional reasons. Excellent shape. Dina rubbed her hands down her jeans trying to get the dust off them. “So your mom told you I was here?”
“She said you had come in.”
“About last time. Sorry I was so weird. My reputation preceded me a few times too often.”
“I understand.” He reached over and pulled something out of her hair. A dust bunny, or more accurately dust rhino.
“Ugh, I’m a mess.” Dina ran her hands through her hair.
“You look wonderful. Are you planning on being around?”
“Actually, I quit the cruise ship. I found a job as an activities director for a chain of elderly care facilities, so I’ll be moving back here as soon as I find an apartment and figure out what I need to replace in here.” The elder care people had really enjoyed her Stop In the Name Of Love activity.
“Really?” He smiled. He did have such a nice smile. “So do you think I could make up for Googling you by taking you out to dinner tonight?”
Dina looked down
at herself. Coated in dust, belongings scattered through the hall of the storage building, and yet after all the weirdness of getting possession of the unit and her job issues, he still wanted to take her out. “How about tomorrow? I’m staying with my mom so I won’t be able to get home to shower and get back in time.”
“After all this, you’re going to make me wait one more day.”
“Good things are worth waiting for.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose they are.”
About Charlotte McClain
Charlotte McClain has wanted to be a writer since the second time she finished reading The Hobbit. She read it twice in two months, so it was rather a snap decision. Since her motto is: What’s that over there?, she experimented a lot. Dabbling in every genre she could find, she has written dozens of short stories, most of a fantasy trilogy, and a growing number of romance novels in any sub-genre that strikes her fancy. If you don’t see something you like, be patient. She’ll probably get there. Heck, she’s lived on three different continents including opposite sides of Asia so genre hopping is nothin’!
Find Charlotte at:
Email: [email protected]
Blog/faux website: http://charlottemcclain.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Charlotte-McClain/194631023901505
Other Lyrical Press books by Charlotte:
Melody Unchained: http://lyricalpress.com/melody-unchained/
Three Alarm Tenant: http://lyricalpress.com/three-alarm-tenant/
Struck By Lightning: http://lyricalpress.com/struck-by-lightning/
Spark of Desire: http://lyricalpress.com/spark-of-desire/
Secrets Everybody Knows: http://lyricalpress.com/secrets-everybody-knows/
Long Memory: http://lyricalpress.com/long-memory/
One Ring to Rule: http://lyricalpress.com/one-ring-to-rule/
Highlander’s Captive
Historical romance by Joanne Wadsworth
His mission is to capture. Hers is to turn the tide.
Julia MacLeod is held captive by a Highland warrior, a man whose deep-seated honor may just turn him into becoming the captured instead.
Chapter 1
Dunvegan Castle, stronghold of clan MacLeod, on the Isle of Skye, autumn 1590.
Julia’s pulse raced as she held her flickering torch high.
“My brothers will be furious when they discover I overheard them speaking of this secret tunnel leading from the castle.” Margaret scampered behind Julia through the sandy, treacherously wet stone passageway. “I can’t even believe you call this an adventure.”
“’Tis not your fault the library walls are so thin, nor their voices so loud. They should have taken more care.” Never had she been so excited. Certainly the gritty walls held a sickening odor which made it hard to breathe, yet roaming this freely was an opportunity never afforded them. She stifled a giggle.
Margaret dragged in a deep breath. “I believe you are having far too much fun. I shall be in so much trouble, should Rory find out.”
“Which our stubborn chief won’t. It isn’t as if we’re intending to leave MacLeod lands, just discover at which point we can. Now stop worrying and enjoy yourself.”
“Mayhap I would if you slowed down.” Margaret grasped her hand. “I’m almost wishing now I’d taken your father up on his offer to join you both on his trip to Edinburgh. I long to see the finery of Holyrood House.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, and that you invited me to stay instead. Had you not, I’d have been forced to go.”
“I noticed you jumped at the chance, although I don’t understand why.”
“Because all those courtiers speak a separate language, and Father is usually far too busy attending meetings.” She’d had three seasons, and spent several weeks there each time, although within the company of Father’s elder sister, a matronly noblewoman with the eyes of an eagle.
“Aye, but what an opportunity.” Margaret’s eyes widened. “We’ll go together on his next— Oh, do you smell that? There’s a touch of a salt in the air. Mayhap this tunnel comes out at the loch.”
“I smell it too.” From overhead water dripped and splashed at Julia’s feet. She stopped, caught the next drop and licked it. “This is fresh, not salty. Perhaps we’re on the fringe of the forest where it meets the sea to the south. I can’t wait to find out where we emerge.”
“Then keep going. We’ve come this far.”
A soft breeze made Julia’s hair tickle her face. They must be so close. She whizzed past a side vent which emitted a sliver of light.
“Wait. Come back, Julia.” Margaret peered into the vent. “The scent of the sea is coming from here.”
She joined her cousin where brush clogged the small opening. “Here, take the torch. I’ll go peek and get our bearings.” She passed the flickering flame across and eyed the thick copse. She’d have to crawl through. There was no other way. She knelt and squirmed through the small gap at the side. ’Twas a tight fit.
“Be careful.” Margaret patted her ankle before Julia crawled beyond her reach.
“I will. This is so exciting.” She scrambled forward then slithered on her belly. Brambles caught at her hair, pulling pins free as she inched through. “I can see the—”
The ground gave way underneath her.
“Julia!”
Terrified, Julia plummeted toward the sea. She grabbed for bushes, but only managed leaves. No!
Impact with the frigid water stole her breath. She kicked and flailed, but her skirts dragged her down as the current tossed her. So deep.
This couldn’t be happening. Innocent fun shouldn’t end in death. Heavens, Father would be lost and he’d never recover if she died, and Margaret... Oh, her sweetly compassionate cousin might well be having a heart attack. What had she been thinking, to leave the castle without a guard? Never had Rory’s suffocating rules made such sense.
She clawed, fighting the current, unable to give up. Too many people would be hurt by her silly actions. She couldn’t die. She just—
An arm clamped around her waist. She jerked around and stared into the piercing eyes of an angel. Nay, not an angel, a man fully clothed. He tightened his hold and pushed them through the hazy depths. In a slew of bubbles, they broke the surface and she gulped in great drafts of air.
“Can you swim?” His dark hair was plastered to his face and neck as he treaded water.
“Are you real?”
“You’re alive, lass, but we need to get you out of here. Can you swim?”
“I can.” She struggled for a breath. “But don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t. I’ve got you.” He cut a path alongside the cliff through the churning waters. She kicked as she could, but his strength alone propelled them forward. “There’s a ledge here. Hold tight to it.”
She clawed the craggy rock as he heaved himself up. Then he plucked her from the pounding sea. Onto her back, she flopped. Above, the sheer cliff face loomed. How had she survived that fall? She clutched the man’s soggy shirtfront. Still real. “I can’t believe what just happened. Where did you come from?”
“That’s what I should be asking you. I heard your scream then saw you hit the water.” He scanned the cliff. “That was one mighty fall.”
“I—I slipped over the edge.”
He wore a dagger sheathed along his wrist and a belted side-sword. His chest, which her hands were in direct contact with, was hot and hard and rippled with muscles. Goodness, a warrior.
“I’ve never seen you before.” She’d visited Margaret often enough to know all of their clan. “Who do I have to thank for saving my life?”
“Ivor MacDonald.” He pressed callused palms against her forehead then her cheeks. “You’re cold, too cold, and why were you alone? I see no one up there.” He patted his hands down her arms then swept them over her sides and under her ribs. “If anything hurts as I touch, tell me.”
What was a MacDonald doing on Rory’s lands?
“I—I—” She shivered. “You’re a MacDonald?”
“Naught hurts?” Water dripped from the long sweep of his sooty lashes.
“Only my lungs.” She still struggled to draw in a decent breath, and when she did, it scraped painfully.
“That’s to be expected. I’m going to need to check your lower limbs. Can you wriggle your toes?”
“I think so.” He smoothed his hands down her legs and over the tender arches of her feet. Heat raced along the path he touched. “Oh, aye.” She jumped. “I have feeling there.”
“Your name, lass?” He rose over her, cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “As well as what day is it, and what year?”
“I’m lucid, just winded.” She spread her hands over his. He too had come from the sea, yet his skin was hot, his body emitting warmth, which sent tingles zipping through her. “M-my name is Julia MacLeod and I’m cousin to the chief. Rory will pay you well for seeing to my safe r-return.”
“Cousin?” He crooked a brow. “Interesting.”
“I’m c-cold.” She clamped down on her chattering teeth.
“Come. Let’s get you out of this wind and warmed up.” He slid his hands around her waist, and set her on her feet.
The sea’s cold spray pelted into her and she burrowed against him. “I don’t want to get back into the water.”
“You don’t have to. Look behind you.”
She glanced over her shoulder and sagged in relief. This wasn’t just a ledge but a path leading around the corner, a thin one, but still a path. “Is this how you got here?”
“Aye, ’twas a far more enjoyable method of reaching this place than by the means you took. There is a small beach around the corner, not much, but enough for me to drag my skiff up onto.” He nudged her from behind. “You’re safe with me. I want you to know that.”
Of course she knew it. He’d just saved her life, and at the peril of losing his own. She edged forward. “What are you doing here? MacDonalds rarely grace our lands, unless it’s to fight.” The feud which had raged between clan MacDonald and clan MacLeod had been endless. At times it simmered but then issues would arise and it would flare up anew.
First Frost Page 3