by Jo Jones
For the briefest moment, he wondered if no’ getting his memory back would be worth it, if it meant he could win Brie. If she could come to care for him the way he’d begun to care for her.
But ’twould no’ be honorable. No’ to Brie, or anyone who might be awaiting his return. ’Twould be a coward’s way to build one life, on the buried memories of another. There could be no chance with Brie, until he faced the life he’d lived, before his fall. And the sooner the better, before ’twas too difficult to leave her.
When Brie slid to the edge of the sofa, he felt a profound loss.
No. Stay. Please, stay.
Was he a blackguard for wanting to hold her again, while he still could? Erase the distance that had crept into her eyes? He sighed, already knowing the answer. Until he knew who Soncerae was, ’twould be wrong to think more, on his feelings for Brie.
Something else nagged at his thoughts. Soncerae had called him Alistair. The same name the highlander Angus, had called out, in Mac’s nightmare. But how was that possible? Mac believed Soncerae to be real. But he knew Angus was no’. So, how had they both called him by the same name? If she was connected to his nightmare, mayhap she dinna truly exist, after all? And, mayhap, ’twas no’ him she’d been calling. ’Twas possible Alistair was someone else, entirely. Simply a remnant from his nightmare.
Och! ’twas enough to drive him mad!
When he glanced at Brie, she hurried to hide her troubled expression. “Ye started to ask me something, lass. Before I interrupted. What was it?”
“It must not have been important.” She shrugged and stood. “I don’t even remember. I’m thirsty. Would you like a glass of water?”
“Nae. Thank ye.”
He listened to the sounds of her moving around in her kitchen, the low crackle of the fire, Gus’s light snore, wanting to burn them into his memory.
When Brie returned, she sat on the end of the sofa, tucked her legs beneath her and fussed with the edge of a small pillow. “I may be gone when you wake up in the morning,” she stated, keeping her attention on the pillow. “I’m going down to start working on that tree, so when the roads are dry enough, we can get you back to…so we can get you back.”
“I’ll help ye.” He felt helpless to close the distance growing between them.
Her eyes met his and she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m afraid the noise and vibration of the chain saw might be too much for you, this soon. You need to be careful, for a while yet. At least until you see a doctor.”
He dinna ken how a saw could hurt him. “ ’Tis fine. Truly,” he added when she raised an eyebrow. “My head is still a bit tender, but the hammer inside is no’ so large as it was earlier.” He smiled to reassure her. “Ye’re a gifted healer, Brie. As well as yer sorcery has worked thus far, I’m sure tae be fully recovered by tomorrow.”
“No, Mac,” she argued. “It’s better if I go alone.”
“I will go with ye, Brie,” he said, firmly. “I willna sit in this cabin while ye’re down there working. If ’tis too much for me, I’ll tell ye. But ’twill be fine. Ye’ll see.”
He got up to stir the fire and add a couple more logs, wanting to say something that would restore the easiness they’d shared earlier. To tell her that Soncerae’s voice could well be nothing more than a remnant of his nightmare. But ’twould no’ be fair. He still dinna belong to himself, so he couldna promise anything to her, even if she’d let him.
He turned, gave Gus a pat, and taking his que from Brie, settled onto the opposite end of the sofa.
“Before we both dozed off, ye promised tae tell me about the footprints ye found outside. Why did they have the power tae ‘shake yer confidence’ as ye put it?”
Brie shrugged. “I probably overreacted. I just never thought the Mountain-Man would come this far back.”
“Mountain-man?” Mac repeated. “I dinna ken.”
“That’s what the locals call whoever is breaking into cabins up here. There were a couple of incident’s last year, but this summer there’ve been a whole slew of burglary’s. Always just one set of tracks and always when there’s no one around, which is why I was so surprised to see that he—or someone—had been here.”
Mac’s throat thickened at the thought of Brie in danger. How could he leave here knowing such a man prowled the mountain? His blood boiled, knowing the blackguard had recently been outside Brie’s home. ’Twas a brazen act, knowing Mac was here as well. “What is this mountain-man searching for, that he needs tae break in tae so many cabins?”
Brie shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, he takes random items. Anything from food and blankets to guns and ammunition. Sometimes, even clothing. Some people think he’s camping out somewhere on the mountain.”
“Have ye someplace safer tae go, just until the thief is caught?”
Brie looked at him as if he’d suggested she cut off a limb. “As far as I know, he’s never hurt anyone.”
’Twas Mac’s turn to give her a look of incredulity. “Even so, ye canna ken for certain what he might do, if cornered.”
“I’ll admit a few people have wondered what would happen if they walked in on him, but so far, that’s never happened. I think he’s too smart for that.”
“And I think ye’re much too smart tae believe what ye’re saying.” Mac stood and paced the length of the room, angry that Brie would put herself in such a position. “It nearly happened tonight!”
“So, you’d have me surrender to my fears and just walk away from my home?”
Och! Such a stubborn lass.
“Aye. If ’twould see ye safe.” They locked gazes, each of them determined to press their point. Finally, he strode to the sofa, grasped Brie by the upper arms, and pulled her to her feet. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he brought his face within an inch of hers. “If I have tae lose ye, ’twill no be from yer obstinance!”
“My obstinance?” she spit back. “Exactly, what is it you want from me, Mac…whoever-you-are?”
He stared into flashing sapphire eyes, wishing he could speak all the things in his heart. “I want…”
He wanted to crush his mouth to hers. Kiss her with all the desperation in his heart and feel her kiss him back with the same passion. But he couldna as long as he dinna ken who Soncerae was, or who in his past he owed allegiance to. “I want to see ye safe,” he finally said, releasing her.
Unable to trust himself, he turned away and crossed his arms, pulling them tight against his ribcage as he walked to the fireplace. “ ’Tis late, Brie. and ye’ve planned a busy day, tomorrow. If ye’re ready tae retire, I dinna wish tae keep ye.” He groaned his frustration and embarrassment, realizing he’d all but sent her to bed in her own home.
Several seconds passed before she said anything. “The bed is made up in the spare room, across the hall from the bathroom. If you don’t find what you need, just knock on my door.”
He dinna turn around, afraid he’d weaken. “Thank ye, lass. But I think I’ll watch the fire a bit longer.”
~ ~ ~
A constant scratching at her door pulled Brie from her dream. She blinked the sleep away, already forgetting the details, but couldn’t shake the lingering sense of foreboding.
“Good morning, Gus.” She stumbled from her room, scratched behind his ears and looked around for Mac. Both his bedroom door and the outside door stood ajar. “You two have been outside, already?”
Gus backed up a few steps, wagged his tail and emitted something between a whine and a bark.
“You can stop now, Gus,” she laughed. “I’m up.”
Another joyful bark erupted when Mac came through the door, his arms loaded with firewood. “I’m sorry, lass. I tried tae keep him outside so he dinna wake ye.”
She watched Mac deposit the wood near the fireplace, brush off his hands and the front of his longshirt. At some point, he’d exchanged her father’s clothes for his own. He’d even cleaned his boots. The
sight of him in his kilt, standing tall, rugged, and ridiculously handsome, took her breath away. And reminded her, he didn’t belong here.
The tenseness between them last night, came back to her. For a moment, she’d thought he would kiss her. She’d wanted him to. She’d have kissed him back, despite knowing he’d leave. That he had to leave. She’d weakened and allowed her emotions to override her common sense. Thankfully Mac had been stronger.
Soncerae’s name floated into her thoughts, almost like a confirmation. Whatever her role, Soncerae represented a part of Mac’s life that Brie didn’t belong in. His time here was nothing more than a brief pause between his past and his future.
“Good morning, tae ye, lass,” he smiled, coming closer. “Did ye sleep well?” His eyes were soft, as they roamed her face.
She looked away, afraid of what he’d find. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” she grumbled.
Mac caught her arm as she headed for the kitchen. “What is it, Brie?”
She dropped her head, ashamed of her moodiness. “I’m sorry, Mac, I… Good morning,” she echoed then forced herself to take a step back, folding her arms to keep from touching him. “I slept well, thank you. What about you? Did you…,” she looked away searching for a way to soften her question. “Did you have any more insight about who Soncerae might be?” She grimaced at her bluntness, but at least the question that kept her awake most of the night had been voiced.
“Nae,” Mac shook his head, an apprehensive look on his face. “I still dinna ken who she is. But, do ye no’ think if she truly meant something tae me, in a personal way, that I’d have some sort of…knowing?”
She shrugged, helpless to help him. “I don’t know, Mac.” Please don’t ask me to analyze your past attachments, romantic or otherwise!
“Is it warming up outside?” She hurriedly stepped beyond the door, ashamed of bringing Soncerae’s name up, in the first place. “Hopefully, the sun’s dried the road out enough we can begin cutting apart that tree. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get you into town.”
Mac followed her out. “Are ye angry wi’ me, lass?” He groaned his frustration. “Ahh, Brie, I’ve tried no’ tae say anything. ’Tis wrong, and makes no sense after only one day, especially since I’ve nothing tae offer or promise, but I’ve come tae care—"
“Please don’t say any more.” She shook her head. “You’re mistaking gratitude for something else, and I’m mistaking compassion for the same thing.” She swallowed and tried not to choke on the lie. “We’re both wrong.”
“Nae!” he stated. “ ’Tis more than that. But I ken yer worries. I admit tae having them, myself. So, I’ll come wi’ ye tae help move the tree, and I’ll go wi’ ye tae the village and search for the answers tae all the questions I canna provide for myself, or for ye.”
He turned her to face him. “But, will ye promise tae hear the answers once I find them?”
“Mac.” She let her eyes drift over his face, wanting to memorize every detail, “You don’t owe me any explanations. Do us both a favor. Once you return to your life and your family, don’t look back.”
His face fell, and something clouded the clear blue of his eyes. “Ye’ll nae give me a chance, then? Even if it turns out that I’m free?”
Take the chance, Brie, her heart cried. But she couldn’t live on the hope Mac’s love might someday circle back to her. She’d waited for her father and her ex-fiancé, but never quite made the cut on either of their priority lists. She didn’t have the strength to wait indefinitely, a third time. Especially since, in all probability, Mac would never make it back. Best to avoid the heartache all together.
“I can’t, Mac.” She pulled away before she lost the last of her willpower and went back inside. “I’ll make us some breakfast. And then, assuming you’re still feeling up to it, we can take the 4-wheeler down, check out the road and get started on that tree.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sweat, and the sun beating through his longshirt, dampened Mac’s back, while the noise and vibration of the chain-saw reverberated in his head. Though ’twas a bit more painful than he’d admitted to Brie when she’d first showed him how to use the saw, ’twas almost a welcome reprieve from his anguished thoughts.
What he saw in Brie’s eyes and what she’d said to him this morning, dinna match. But why? Was she no’ willing to wait until he found the answers to his past, or was he mistaken, and she truly dinna want him, at all?
He prayed that wasna true, but regardless, he couldna build the life he wanted with Brie, without discovering who he was and knowing he wouldna cause harm to another, in the process.
But mayhap he caused harm to Brie by asking her to wait for him to discover his past?
Perplexed by so many questions wi’ out answers, he continued to cut apart the obstruction that kept him in Brie’s world, though ’twas the one he thought he wanted.
He’d worked in a steady rhythm, using Brie’s machine to chew through the trunk and thickest branches of the tree with astonishing ease. ’Twas truly a most marvelous invention! He wished he could show it to Angus and Gregor.
Mac stopped the saw.
Where had that come from?
“Angus.” Mac said out loud, hoping the name would prompt something else. Anything else. Why did the name of the highland warrior who’d died with him in his nightmare, keep coming to him? Why think of him now? Here? And who was Gregor?
Mac closed his eyes, hoping to sense something more about either man. He’d already learned ’twas no use trying to force a memory.
Concentrate, Mac. What do ye feel when ye think on Angus?
Several seconds passed and then, so faint he almost missed it…
Laughter... Loss... Brotherhood. My soul went first when we died on the moor. He went first, with Soncerae, to be reborn.
Mac’s eyes flew open! Reborn? ’Twas no’ ‘rebirthing’ in his dream! Shaken and confused, he sat on a piece of sawed tree trunk, closed his eyes and tried again with Gregor, who’d no’ been in the dream. So where had his name come from?
“Gregor,” Mac whispered. “Who are ye?” He waited, almost breathless, for any sensations. Warmth came first, then something…unfinished? Friendship. Some kind of reckoning? Gregor wanted to go, but Soncerae made a mistake and picked me, instead.
Chills crawled up Mac’s spine and settled between his shoulder blades in a shiver. Soncerae? She was somehow connected to Angus and Gregor?
Angus belonged in a dream, and at this point, he couldna quite ken if Soncerae was real or no. But where and how did Gregor fit in?
Foul tricks of his muddled mind, Mac decided, realizing the ache in his clenched jaw had begun to spread to his cheekbones.
“Something wrong?” Brie’s voice startled him. How had he no’ heard her return from using her wheeled-machine to drag off another section of log?
He whirled to see her standing close behind him, a concerned look on her face. “You looked kind of…distressed. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Aye,” he assured her. “All is well. Just resting.”
She peeled off her gloves and nodded toward the portion of tree they’d cleared away. “We’ve made pretty good progress. I’d say we deserve a break.”
Gus barked from the side of the road, blissfully racing from bush to bush, digging and sniffing.
“Looks like he’s been working hard too,” Brie laughed, pulling two containers of water from a small box on her machine.
“Aye, Mac agreed, taking a long drink of water. ’Twas good to hear her laugh. She dinna do enough of it.
~ ~ ~
He’d watched them long enough to know they’d be a while yet, trying to disassemble that tree. He hadn’t felled that particular tree, but Mother Nature couldn’t have been more cooperative.
The man in the kilt was new to the mountain. He’d never seen him before, but he knew the woman. Brie Drummond. She’d come to the high scho
ol in town to interview him after one of his survivalist lectures, for research on a book she was writing. Romantic Suspense she’d said. Silly woman. She had no idea what he was capable of. What he’d built, up here. No one did.
Until now, he’d avoided her cabin because it was the closest one to his shelter. The first rule he’d adopted when he began this quest, was ‘don’t mess in your own nest’. But when he’d seen her small, portable, solar generator, he’d decided to make an exception.
Of course, he didn’t need such frivolities, but why not make his shelter as comfortable as possible? Wasn’t that the point? Solar would open a whole new world of possibilities when he shopped through mountain cabins. Nothing wrong with a hotplate instead of an open fire to cook on. Smarter even. Not as detectable. Not to mention a battery-free light for evening study of his maps. And a small, portable heater would make these cool fall evenings a lot more comfortable. No noise, and fuel free.
Availing himself of Ms. Drummond’s generator was simply a wise, survivalist action to take.
She’d been using the generator on her deck all week. Such easy pickings! But when he’d come to get it, she’d put it away. Probably due to the rain. He’d seen no sign of it inside her cabin, when he’d watched through her windows last night, so she must have put it in the shed.
When he’d scouted her cabin earlier in the week and made plans for last night, he’d known there was a chance he’d have to deal with her dog, but he hadn’t counted on the man. That was pure bad luck. Yet, here was fate, this fine morning, handing him an unforeseen chance to make up for it.
Kismet, or what? That generator was meant to be his.
Drummond and her friend were busy with the tree, and it appeared they would be for some time. And, as fortune would have it, the dog was there, too.
His window of opportunity couldn’t be more perfect. Her place was free for the picking and he’d certainly never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.