by L. L. Muir
Moodie cocked an eyebrow. “Or perhaps she’ll consider his departure a credit to yer good taste, aye?” He bit his tongue to keep from saying more about the fool who had spoken to the woman so cruelly. If they’d worked together and enjoyed a personal relationship, Tom surely understood her worth, and yet, he’d given her up.
But more the fool, he. And more the villain he, if he could abuse her so.
Penny smiled at him. “Thanks. I know he was a jerk this morning, but any support is appreciated.”
Moodie’s very mortal heart performed a bit of acrobatics in his chest when dimples appeared in her cheeks. Why his words should mean anything to her was beyond him, but he was pleased his opinion mattered.
They walked in silence for a while, listening to the breeze whisper through the grasses, teasing the blades up off the soaked ground once more. And while they walked, he watched the lass out of the corner of his eye. The more they walked, the happier she seemed to become, as if the wind was teasing her mood as well, lifting her chin in the doing.
Or perhaps it was the fact that they were putting more distance between themselves and that computer screen that had held Tom’s offensive face.
“Ye seem greatly contented here, Miss Penny.”
She nodded. “I really am. When Tom left, at first, it felt lonely. But then I realized…” she trailed off again and shook her head. “It’s silly.”
“Tell me, lass. I give ye my word I’ll not laugh.”
“I realized that I was enough. I was good enough for my own company. After that, things got better and better.”
Moodie nodded. It made sense to him. In fact, it sounded quite similar to something he’d gone through himself, hundreds of years ago, when he’d realized he was stranded on the battlefield with no use griping about it. Of course, the woman’s situation was much more hopeful, for she strode across her own land with a mission and a task to accomplish. None but the dogs were dependent upon her. There was no one to disappoint…
With the pack off on its own once again, they walked east to the coast, then north to the lighthouse and back down along the northwest tip of the island. A little more than a mile all told before the dogs found them again and seemed quite excited to see them.
Moodie picked up a piece of driftwood and threw it into the distance, and he and the woman laughed when some of the dogs raced to retrieve it.
Fergus wasn’t interested in the stick as much as he wanted Penny’s attention. He barked and jumped on her until she finally stopped smiling. She suddenly looked around and counted the animals running about.
“Someone’s missing.” She counted the dogs again. “One of the lab mixes.”
“What is he called?”
“He’s new,” she said. “Only had him a couple weeks. I haven’t named him yet. I was thinking maybe Milkshake because he’s kind of the color of a caramel milkshake, but… Wait, do you hear that?”
Moodie stood perfectly still and strained to hear. Beneath the endless call of the wind, he finally heard a plaintive whine. “That way,” he pointed toward an expansive opening in the ground just south and east of them, and together, they set off running with dogs in tow.
“I hope he’s not where I think he is!” She grimaced. “We have to hurry.”
They arrived at the edge of the plateau where it stopped at a circle of cliffs, oddly formed away from the sea. Penny shed her coat, hat, and gloves and immediately began climbing down the cliff face. “There’s a cave down here.” She held up a hand to the dogs who were searching for a way down. “Stay!” And though they seemed slightly affronted by the order, they dropped their tails onto the turf and did as they were told.
The whimpering came again. “He cannae be far,” he said, to ease her worry.
“This is The Gloup. There’s an underground tunnel that leads to the shore, but it’s only accessible at low tide. I think it used to be a smuggler’s cave.” She reached the sandy floor of the beach and waited for him to join her.
He shed his outer garments and hurried as best he could, following in the same path.
“There’s a small sub-cave inside on the other side of that key hole. At low tide, you can walk right in. It’s always full of crabs, which the dogs love. We found the spot months ago. I’m sure they come here all the time. But the new fella probably didn’t understand the danger.” She grimaced. “If that dog is hurt…”
Moodie pushed off the rocks and dropped to the sand to save time. “‘Tis all right, lass,” he soothed. “We’ll get to him. Ye said there’s an internal cave?”
She hurried down the shoreline. “Yes. We saw it on a map, when we first came here. I did a little research and found it again. It’s called The Malt Barn. It’s safe enough when the tide is low, but then...”
“The tide comes in, and you’re trapped.”
“Not just trapped,” Penny said. “Underwater. Because the cove is so narrow, the tide comes in fast, the currents are strong...” She cocked her head. “There! I hear him!”
The cove was flooding quickly with water, but the woman rushed in without hesitation. Cursing, Moodie followed her. “Lass, I’m nae sure this is safe…”
“What do you want me to do, leave him? No way.” Penny fought through the deepening water, around a long arm of rocks, until she reached a small raised area at the entrance to the main cavern. Just inside, a yellow dog paced back and forth in fear as the frothy water played with orange and white crab shells at his feet.
“All dogs can swim, lass. Why does he not?”
“He probably tried, but the waves could have pushed him back.” She ran into the water as if she’d done so a hundred times.
The animal was nearly as large as Penny herself, but when she reached him, she hoisted him up and turned to face the cold North Sea. As soon as she stepped back into the water, a wave nearly bowled her over. The next might push her back into the jagged rocks of the cavern itself, and then drown her inside!
Moodie hurried to her, using the impetus of the waves to move him quickly. If only those waves would change direction and carry them all out again!
Once he reached the rocky rise, he braced his feet apart to block the next wave. “Hold on to me, woman!” From her arms, he scooped up the large, soaked dog and turned his back to her. He stepped back into the water. Penny grabbed onto his shoulders and held tight, smart lass. With the water now well above his waist, he moved quickly through the current and back out around the stones that hid the cavern from easy view. As the water grew shallow, Penny’s arms slid away and she put her feet beneath her once again.
It was very likely she would have been trapped in that cave if he hadn’t been on hand, and the possibility of that tragedy brought a flood of emotion nearly as strong as the incoming tide. And one by one, wave by wave, worries pushed through his mind.
The previous day, he’d thought little of the danger of a woman being all alone on such an island with nothing but a radio to call for help. She’d seemed so capable of seeing to herself. But the previous day, she’d been a sharp-tongued stranger whom he would have left to her own fate if there had been a way to escape the island in the storm, to go where someone might need his aid.
But she was no longer a stranger. And the dangers she faced were his concern.
It was a miracle she’d survived as long as she had if she took similar risks on a regular basis. He determined to have a conversation about it, once his emotions were back in hand. She might love it here, but she would love being alive even more. Hopefully, he could get her to understand that.
With regret, he realized that his noble deed might entail convincing the lass to leave this place before he himself disappeared. And even if it was not the deed for which he’d been sent, it was a reasonable argument. How could he look at her, dripping and out of breath, and not imagine how close she had come to losing her life.
For the sake of a dog.
Chapter Eight
Farther from the Malt Barn, Moodie found easier footing
and carried the exhausted mutt up to the turf before releasing him to his four-legged friends.
“Go on, now, Milkshake,” he said. “Think more carefully next time, aye?”
Penny watched the dog blend in with the others, nipping and barking happily, though with much less energy than his fellows. She shook her head. “Thank you. I would have been so upset if anything had happened to him.”
“And just what if something had happened to you?” Moodie shook his head. “Does yer own life not matter?”
Penny looked up at him, surprised, as if she hadn’t, for even a moment, considered her own safety. Her eyes welled with tears and the next instant, she bit her lip and turned her back to him. When she strode away, he allowed her a bit of privacy and stood patiently until she finally recovered herself and returned to face him, carrying their discarded things. Thankfully, she wasnae greetin’ when she did. In fact, her eyes were quite dry.
“Och, lass, no worries. Ye’re safe now, and so is the pup.”
They donned the hats, coats, and gloves, but with wet things underneath, they were bound to freeze their bones if they didn’t get back to the house and soon. And of all the ways he might have chosen for his second death, hypothermia was not his first choice.
“It’s not that I worried I might die,” Penny said, pulling on her gloves. “I mean, it is sort of. I was just thinking how lucky I am that you were here. And that reminded me of when Tom was here. He was never very good at taking action. He would have been standing on dry sand, yelling at me as I drowned.” She laughed, but without humor. “We were never a good pair, I guess. He was right about that.”
Moodie couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman’s flushed face.
“Come now, lass, dinnae fash,” he said. “The fool is best forgotten, aye?”
Penny sniffled and smiled. “I know. I figured that out a while ago.”
“Then why do you fash over him?”
“I’m not fashing. I’m just…embarrassed.” Penny picked up a rock to avoid his eye, then threw it into The Gloup. It landed ingloriously into the pool of rising water that proved how quickly it might have risen over her head. She gave a nervous laugh before setting off again, waving him to come along.
They walked fast. The dogs followed for a short while, but then left off. Penny explained that they had their own territory and it was best, for her research, if she let them get back to it. Fergus was obviously torn, but eventually left with the rest.
“I won’t be surprised if he comes scratching at the door, though. Hopefully, the others won’t follow. And if he leaves them, they’ll have to choose another alpha. There’s always a possibility Fergus saw Tom as an alpha and was more willing to stay away.”
After a pace, when it seemed she was obviously still thinking about the man, Moodie sought to remind her she wasn’t alone. At least, not for the time being. Besides, chatting kept him from thinking about how cold he was.
“I am sorry if the fool broke yer heart.”
She frowned at the sky, briefly, then shook her head. “He hurt my feelings, that’s for sure. I mean, if someone leaves you on a basically deserted island, on purpose, you can’t help feeling bad, right? But my heart? I think my heart would have been broken if he’d have been…wonderful. Losing someone wonderful sounds like a real reason to cry, doesn’t it?”
“Aye, it does.”
With her definition, he had plenty of reason to greet himself. But he had no right to do so, when losing wonderful people had been his own damned fault.
He shook off his woeful thoughts and sought to return to the current conversation. “Did ye never think him wonderful, then?”
She shrugged. “I admit we were close. Really close friends, is what he called it. And he wasn’t going to call us anything more than that if I wasn’t going to…get physical.” She cleared her throat. “We met in college, as lab partners.”
“Lab partners?”
“Yeah, we did science experiments together, you know.”
Moodie didn’t know, but didn’t wish to reveal his ignorance.
“Anyway, I had such a crush on him. I thought he was cute, and friendly, and smart. He had great connections for funding and it was his idea to rent Stroma so we could isolate our subjects and still allow them to roam free. A three-square-mile laboratory, basically. I loved the idea and was happy to put up some of my inheritance to secure the place. The plan was to move here together, study the environment and the dogs, and write books together. Meanwhile, the scenario I had in mind included falling in love and getting married.”
Moodie nodded while his hands clenched. He was surprised by the surge of jealousy that flooded through him at the thought of Tom here with Penny, walking hand in hand. He knew he had no claim to her. Lord knew he wouldn’t be here long enough to make a claim to anyone or anything. And yet the jealousy persisted.
He held his tongue and allowed her to continue if she chose to.
Penny shoved her hands in her pockets and looked to the north where the lighthouse marked time with every turn of its lens. And just when he thought she had shared all she wanted to, she spoke. “Well, obviously I rented the island. I don’t regret that, there’s no question. But with Tom, things went downhill.”
She pulled her hat down tighter on her head and rubbed her arms. Moodie moved closer and put one heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, though he never slowed, making it clear he only meant to help her stay warm.
“I wouldn’t. Or I couldn’t. No, I wouldn’t give Tom what he wanted.”
“Which was…” his voice trailed off as he realized what they were discussing. “Ah. The physical.”
Penny nodded. “It’s not a big deal. I just haven’t found the right person, you know? I want it to be special.”
Moodie nodded. “Where I come from, that is the way with most women.”
“Where you come from? Aren’t you kind of local?”
“Er, aye.”
Penny looked confused but unwilling to pursue it. “Anyway, I thought that he might be the right someone, eventually.”
He resisted the temptation to tell her Tom would never have been worthy.
“But he blew it. After the hard work was done, getting the house in shape, organizing the research, getting to know the island, winter hit. We were inside most of the time, cooking, eating, sleeping…and alone together. That’s when he started turning up the pressure.”
Moodie’s feet stopped. “The cad!” He finally clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms and broke the skin. He looked away so she wouldn’t see him flinch. The idea of any man trying to force a woman to bend to his will was bad enough, but it bothered him more that it had happened to this lass.
My Elvin lass.
Fine, then. She was not his. But what would it hurt to think of her that way for the next twenty-four hours or so?
It would hurt nothing at all.
At Penny’s insistence, they resumed walking, staring ahead. Moodie watched her profile. She was even lovelier today, with her skin pink from the healthy combination of brisk air and exercise. Her nose was small, the bridge close to her face. But then the end swooped out like a ski-jump, ending in a rather pointed tip—Elvin.
She was on the shorter side, which made her seem younger from a distance, but her eyes held a world of hurt in equal measure to the hope that seemed part of her nature. How could anyone try to harm this woman for his own purposes? How could anyone harm her at all?
And what was she thinking, isolating herself on an island with a man like that?
Moodie bit his lips to hold back a tirade on safety. It wouldn’t help. And it wasn’t her fault she’d once trusted a man she’d considered her friend.
“Only a villain would have attacked ye,” he muttered.
“Attacked me?” Penny nodded. “I guess that’s what it was—an attack. He wouldn’t back off, whatever you call it.”
“Bastard,” he hissed. “How did ye ultimately thwar
t him?”
She smiled. “I gave him a black eye and probably bruised some other things. They teach all kinds of stuff on a college campus, including how to hurt an attacker.”
Moodie laughed aloud, surprising both of them. “Well done, then!”
“Thanks. Of course, after that, things got pretty awkward. About a week later, I came back from my walk and he was gone, along with his personal stuff. Those clothes you’re wearing were still in the wash, or I’m sure he would have taken them too.”
“Good riddance to bad rubbish.” Without thinking about it, he bent to the side and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t seem to mind, but he did so wish to make her laugh again. “Of a certainty, I am now even more anxious to get out of these clothes and don my kilt once more.” He chuckled. “Perhaps ye’d like to toss these into the sea along with his Movado watch.”
“Oh, yes p…p…please!”
Chapter Nine
Still laughing, they burst into the cottage like the hounds of Hell were on their tails. The lass closed the door tight while Moodie lunged across the room, opened the stove, and stuffed it full of wood. No matter what her rations for the day, it mattered not if she wouldn’t be alive to order more wood from the mainland.
“Go get yer dry things and come back,” he shouted. “I will change in the other room.”
Long minutes later, she called out that the coast was clear, that he could come out and get warm. When he saw her next, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her toes on the front edge of her chair, she was wearing much the same clothes as those he’d just stripped from himself. Soft pink pants that gathered at her ankles and a thick woven jumper of white. The mass of sea dampened curls on her head had dried and doubled.
She pointed to the second chair while she tried not to look at him directly. “Sorry, Ethan. You’re probably frozen.” A sly glance at his kilt was followed by a bright pink blush to her cheeks—a blush he knew had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
