Jack’s foul mood continued through the rest of the day and into the evening. It also was likely responsible for the heart-pounding nightmare he had that night, in which he repeatedly found himself battling one monster after another as he frantically tried to get to Megan, who was struggling in the icy water of a tundra lake.
Each time he was just about to reach her, another adversary got in his way. Kenzie Gregor tried to cut him in half with a large bloody sword, Jack barely deflecting each blow with his tiny hatchet. Then a faceless Mark Collins stood with his small army of students, forcing Jack to hack his way through them, their cries of betrayal caught up in Megan’s scream for help. The dragon flew at him next, shooting fire from its nostrils as its tail lashed at Jack, trying to knock the hatchet from his hand.
And just when he thought he’d defeated any and all foes and could finally save Megan, Jack found Greylen MacKeage blocking his path. Looking a good forty years younger, wearing a gray and red, dark green, and lavender plaid and holding an ancient and bloodied sword in his hand, the fierce Highlander was the final gauntlet he had to run in order to reach the woman he loved.
The hatchet dangling in his hand at his side and blood seeping from his wounds, Jack’s entire body trembled with exhaustion and apparent defeat. He could only watch helplessly as men from three different clans pulled Megan from the icy water and then flew off, carrying her to an impenetrable fortress on a distant mountain.
“Ye failed, Stone,” Greylen said, moving to block his way when Jack tried to follow. “You’ve disgraced your ancestors by failing to protect what’s yours. Ye don’t deserve a family of your own, especially my daughter and grandson. We’ll raise the boy to be a powerful warrior.”
“I don’t want him to be a warrior!” Jack cried out. “And neither does his mother.”
“Turn around, Stone. See what your way has gained you.”
Jack slowly turned and saw Kenzie, the dragon, and Collins and his students regrouping, preparing themselves to come at him again.
“You possess the skills of a warrior, Stone,” Greylen said, drawing his attention again. “But ye refuse to use them.”
“I prefer peaceful solutions to problems.”
“And so you will continue to fight the same fights, refusing to see that sometimes a man must act decisively, even when it goes against his nature.”
“I fought them,” Jack said, nodding behind him without taking his eyes off Megan’s father.
“Aye, but your blows were ineffectual, and instead of solving anything, ye only postponed the inevitable. Did ye not hope to avoid taking action yourself by giving Kenzie a week to deal with the dragon? And so your problems come at you again, and my daughter and her child pay the price of your hesitation.”
Jack dropped his chin to his chest. “There has to be a way I can save her,” he said, more to himself than to Grey.
“There is, Coyote.”
“What is it, then?” Jack asked, looking up, only to find his grand-père standing beside Greylen, the two men appearing to be different sides of the same coin.
“You must embrace your dark side,” his grand-père said. “And acknowledge the shadow your heart creates when you stand in the light. One does not exist without the other, Coyote—which means you cannot exist unless you accept both.”
“If I acknowledge the shadows, will I get Megan and my son back?” he asked, looking up to find himself in his pitch-black bedroom, his sheets soaked with sweat and his heart pounding in dread.
Jack untangled himself from the bedding, showered, dressed, and went to work, his mood from yesterday compounded tenfold by the nightmare he couldn’t seem to shake—which vividly echoed the fact that he hadn’t seen Megan since Matt Gregor had whisked her off to Gù Brath in his plane.
Jack’s day continued its downward spiral when he walked into the police station and found John Bracket in their makeshift holding cell. The man had a cut on his forehead and blood on his shirt, and was hollering at Ethel to get him a lawyer.
And Jack realized he was looking at yet another monster he hadn’t fully dealt with: just like a battered wife, he had hoped this particular problem would solve itself. But here it was, haunting him again.
“Did Mrs. Bracket finally press charges?” Jack asked Ethel.
“No, we did. John Bracket got in an accident on the way home from some bar in Greenville, and sent our sand truck off the road. It plunged into Pine Creek.”
“How’s the driver of the sand truck?”
“He’s at the hospital with Simon. They both needed stitches.”
“Both? What happened to Simon?”
“Bracket split open Simon’s cheekbone when the boy tried to handcuff him to bring him in.”
Jack bit back a curse. “If I’d pressed charges last week when Bracket punched me, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It would have eventually,” Ethel said. “He’d have gotten out on bail, gotten drunk again, and something just as ugly would have happened.” She shrugged. “It’s always the same vicious cycle.”
“This particular cycle stops today. We’re drawing up a list of charges that will keep him locked up for a couple of years, and pray that’s long enough for him to find some religion.”
“I’ve already done the paperwork, and a sheriff’s deputy is on the way to transport John to the county jail,” Ethel said, just as the phone rang. “I put your messages on your desk,” she finished, picking up the phone.
Jack walked into his office, sat down at his desk, and stared at the opposite wall. It wasn’t just time to think like his ancestors; it was time he had a heart-to-heart talk with them.
Jack’s mood did an immediate one-eighty when he walked into Pine Creek PowerSports that afternoon and found Tom Cleary hunched over the partly dismantled engine of his sled. Tom actually looked like a mechanic: he was wearing clean coveralls, his hair was shorter—though it looked like his mother had cut it—and he had on safety glasses and steel-toed boots.
Paul Dempsey was hovering over the boy as if he expected Tom to pick up a sledgehammer and start thumping away.
“Will it be ready by tomorrow morning?” Jack asked, bending down to peer into the massive mess of metal.
“If I work on it all evening,” Tom said without bothering to look up. He did nod toward Paul. “And if Mr. Dempsey quits telling me what to do next.”
Paul harrumphed and walked to the door leading into his showroom.
Jack gave Tom a pat on the back. “There’s a fifty dollar tip for you if you get it done tonight. I need my sled tomorrow morning for a run up the lake.”
“It’ll be ready for you,” Tom said, just as he pulled a large piece of metal off the top, exposing the guts of the engine. “You just burned up a piston, is all,” Tom said, shining a light down one of the four large holes. “But you didn’t score the cylinder, so it’ll be an easy fix.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
“Mr. Stone? Thank you for…for everything.”
“You want to thank me, give half your paycheck to your mother and encourage your brothers to behave, okay? And call me Jack. You’re a workingman now; you’ve earned the right.”
“I already told Mom she could have most of my paycheck,” Tom said. “And I promise the pranks will stop.”
Jack gave him a nod and walked into the showroom just as Paul was flipping the Open sign in the door to Closed.
“You’re a good man, Dempsey,” Jack told him, climbing on one of the large red ATVs. “And smart, too, for hiring Tom. He’s going to make you lots of money.”
Paul puffed up a bit. “I gotta admit, I was judging the book by the cover. Everyone in town has watched those Cleary boys grow up rough-and-tumble, and I guess we’re all guilty of visiting the sins of their father on them.”
Jack nodded. “Giving him this chance to prove himself…well, you’re a good man.”
Paul’s face reddened, and he fiddled with the price tag on the ATV Jack was sitting on, then suddenly got a
sparkle in his eyes. “Say, did you know a lot of the snowmobile trails around here double as ATV trails in the summer? What are you planning to do for fun when the snow melts?”
“I’m planning to buy myself a boat and a large cooler for food and beer, and I’m going to fish this lake dry.”
“Oh, man,” Paul said, rushing over to a rack of brochures, pulling one out, then rushing back. “Have I got the perfect boat for you!”
Chapter Twenty-one
“You know you’re certifiably crazy, don’t you?” Camry said as she drove their “borrowed” trail groomer up the ski lift path of TarStone Mountain in the pitch dark. “Which means I must be crazy, too,” she muttered, giving Megan a sidelong glance before turning left into a narrow cutting in the woods. “I mean, it’s one thing for a panther to actually be a man, or for Robbie’s dead mother to turn into a snowy owl, because that makes convoluted sense for the magic we grew up with. But a dragon, Meg? Hold on!” she yelped when the right track of the snowcat rolled up onto a fallen log.
Megan braced herself so she wouldn’t slide into Camry. “Why not a dragon?” she asked as soon as they leveled out. “If they don’t exist, where did the idea for them come from? Somebody had to have seen something that looked like a giant lizard with wings. Who could make up a creature like that?”
“The same person who made up all the mythological beasts,” Camry countered. “Someone with a really warped imagination. Either that, or they smoked a lot of pot back then.” She looked over at Megan. “Dragons don’t exist, sis. You must have seen something else.”
“Jack saw it, too. And I just know Kenzie is hiding it in one of the caves on Bear Mountain.”
“You figured that out just because Kenzie smells funny?”
“That, and because when I alluded to seeing the creature, he got all guarded and suddenly had to leave.”
“Exactly what are you two doing downstairs in the lab for several hours each day?” Camry asked, bobbing her eyebrows. “And how come you lock the door?”
“We’re…doing a project together.” Megan was reluctant to lie to her sister, but she was even more loath to break her promise to Kenzie. “He’s working on a belated wedding gift for Matt and Winter, and I’m helping him,” she explained, which wasn’t all that far from the truth. “And he wants it to be a surprise.”
Camry snorted. “I think he’s just using that as an excuse to spend time with you.”
“He says I’m like a sister to him,” she countered. “And besides, he knows Jack is back in my life.”
“Is Jack back in your life?” Camry asked softly. “What went on between you two the night you fell in the lake?”
“Jack saved my life.”
“And you were so beholden that you slept with him, didn’t you?”
In an attempt to cover up what she knew was a blistering blush, Megan grabbed the handle on the dash. “Look out!” she yelped, bracing herself for a bump that didn’t come. “Sorry,” she muttered, sitting back and smoothing down her hair. “I thought I saw another log in the headlights. Turn here.”
“That road won’t take us to Bear Mountain. The one we want is farther up.”
“No, this is it. Turn left.”
“But this one goes to Robbie’s house.”
“Then stop,” Megan said, having to grab the dash handle again when Camry brought the snowcat to a sudden halt. Megan looked over at her sister, just able to make out her expression in the soft glow of the dash lights. “When was the last time you were up here?” she asked.
“Three or four years ago,” Camry admitted.
“I swear this is the trail we took with the horses when Winter and I took Matt to see Bear Mountain this past fall. But the snow makes everything look different. Still, I say we turn here.”
“And if it does come out at Robbie’s, and he catches us?”
“He’s staying at my house tonight, remember?”
Camry gave the snowcat the gas and turned left. She suddenly laughed. “This is fun, Meg, even if it is a wild goose chase. I told you sneaking out from under Mom’s and Dad’s noses would be just like old times.”
“We shouldn’t have lied to them.”
Camry snorted. “Like they’d have let you go traipsing off in the woods at night after what happened up the lake. Don’t worry, Chelsea will cover for us. And it makes perfect sense that we’d spend the night with her in Bangor. You do need a new laptop.”
“I still feel guilty for sneaking out and then stealing the snowcat.”
Camry stopped the snowcat again and looked at Megan. “So do you want me to turn back or not?”
“No! I am finding that dragon. I just wish everyone would quit trying to keep the damn thing a secret. Dad, Robbie, and Kenzie know that I understand the magic, so what are they protecting me from?”
“Maybe from Jack?” Cam speculated. “They still consider him an outsider, Meg. Maybe Dad and Robbie are afraid you’ll slip up and inadvertently tell him. They haven’t explained our family secret to Jack yet. Surely you remember what it was like for Heather, Elizabeth, and the other girls when they wanted to get married. Hell, Walter left Elizabeth standing at the altar. It took Robbie three days to find him, and another two days to convince him we aren’t all insane.”
Megan looked down at her lap. “How am I going to explain the magic to Jack?”
“You’re not. Daddy and Robbie are. That’s the rule.”
She looked up at her sister. “But what if he thinks we’re all crazy and he runs like Walter did? Jack can hide where even Robbie won’t be able to find him. He’s hidden practically his whole life and is obviously very good at it.”
“Robbie has Matt and Winter to help him now. Jack can’t hide from them.” Camry leaned forward to look Megan in the eyes. “You’ve fallen back in love with him, haven’t you?”
Megan simply nodded.
Camry pulled her into a hug. “I’m so happy for both of you.” She chuckled and patted Megan’s belly. “I mean for the three of you.” She straightened with a groan and gave the snowcat the gas again. “So this definitely means I can’t date. Your marrying Jack makes the curse six for six.”
“Poor Cam,” Megan said with teasing sympathy. “Don’t worry. You’ll run into the right guy one of these days, and the curse will be the last thing on your mind. It happened to me, and I promise it will happen to you, too.”
“But I don’t want it to happen to me. I like being single. If I feel like going to bed at six in the evening, I can. And if I want to stay at work until three in the morning, I can do that too, because I don’t have someone calling me every hour asking me when I’m coming home.”
“No, you only have Dad giving you a hard time when you visit,” Megan said with a laugh. “Here. Turn here. Dammit, we’re in town!”
Camry stopped the snowcat just as they crested the snowbank of a plowed road. She looked up and down the street, then over at Megan. “It’s only a quarter mile to the main road, and then a short distance to the lake. And we know Frog Cove is frozen solid; they’ve been driving trucks on it for the last month. I say we go for it. It’ll shorten our run by at least ten miles if we just head up the cove and cut into the woods where Bear Brook comes out.”
Megan involuntarily shivered. “We don’t know how thick the ice is around Bear Brook.”
“Then we’ll go all the way up to Talking Tom’s cottage on the point and then backtrack. There’s a trail leading from there up to the top of Bear Mountain, isn’t there?”
“Yes. But what if someone sees us going through town?”
“There are more snowmobiles than cars around here this time of year, and they’ll think our snowcat is one of the club trail groomers.” She started to give the machine gas, then hesitated. “Where’s Jack tonight? Does he make patrols around town?”
“I have no idea what Jack is doing. Apparently he’s been so busy with police work, he can’t even find the time to come see me.”
“There has been a bi
t of a crime wave lately, sis. Have you seen his police cruiser?” Camry asked with a laugh, easing the snowcat over the snowbank and onto the street. She drove down the residential lane, made a quick stop to check for traffic, then darted across Main Street and into the town park. “It doesn’t matter if anyone does see us,” she said as they cruised onto the lake. “They can’t tell who’s inside here, and if they call the resort, Thomas will cover for us.”
“You’re going to get that poor man fired,” Megan said, looking around to see if anyone had noticed them. But it was eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night, and the town seemed deserted.
“So what’s the plan if we do find ourselves nose to nose with a dragon?” Camry asked. “Did you bring some doughnuts?”
Jack stood in the middle of the Frog Point camp road and aimed his flashlight down at the lifeless body of Peter Trump, specifically at the half-inch metal spike sticking out of his back. “So he simply tripped and fell on that survey stake,” Jack said, repeating what Robbie MacBain had just told him.
“He made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder to look for me,” Robbie said, “and he tripped, tried to catch himself, and landed exactly like you see him.”
Jack lifted his gaze. “He just…fell.”
Robbie sighed, seemingly in an attempt to hold onto his patience. “I wanted him alive as much as you did, Stone. He’s our best chance to nail Collins.”
“He was. So why didn’t you simply take him down at the house?”
“Because of Megan. I didn’t want her coming home to a mess, if there was a struggle. Nor does she need that kind of negative energy in her new home, especially with the baby on the way. So I let him see me, knowing he’d run, and I intended to bring him down out here in the road.”
“I would say your plan worked.” Jack moved the flashlight beam on the ground around the body, stopping when he spotted the gun. “How come he didn’t shoot you?” he asked, walking closer to stare down at it.
“I never gave him a target. He did fire his weapon as he ran out of the house. You should find a bullet lodged in the siding by the lakeside door.”
Secrets of the Highlander Page 22