Alistair: A Highlander Romance (The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Book 40)

by Jo Jones

  Though she had no intention of being careless, and had taken every logical precaution she could, she refused to be held hostage by fear of what might happen. So, at least until the roads became passable, she intended to put him out of her mind. She’d see the sheriff for an update when she went into town. Who knows? They may have caught him by now.

  Brie had barely made it from her long, winding lane onto the slippery road—already regretting leaving her walking stick behind—when Gus came bounding back, barking and circling her until she was mud-spattered and damp from her thighs down. He looked up at her, pawed her leg and whined, then ran ahead, stopping once to look back at her, bark again, and go on.

  At least she hadn’t smelled skunk. “Okay, I’m coming,” she laughed when Gus barked again, “but this road is downhill and slippery, and I don’t want to fall.”

  Gus turned a couple more circles and raced ahead, disappearing around the turn. Regretting giving in to a walk on a day like this, Brie worked her way down the soupy road, picking the firmest spots she could find.

  She expected Gus to come racing back, or at least to hear his bark, but minutes passed, and he didn’t return. She tried to hurry, moving when she could to the side of the road for firmer footing, but she kept being forced back onto the road by deadfall and debris too dense to push through, or climb over.

  Finally, she rounded the curve and saw Gus about forty feet ahead, whining and pawing at something on the side of the road, near a fallen tree. She sighed. Moving that tree out of the road meant an entire afternoon, a chain saw, tow-chains and her truck, to drag the sawed logs out of the way. There was no way she’d attempt anything like that, this close to the drop-off until she had firm ground beneath her.

  Frowning, she searched the treetops for the sun that teased and dappled the ground through the branches, warming her enough to make her want to shed her jacket. Then just as quickly, it ducked behind a cloud dark enough to threaten more rain. There was nothing to do but head home and wait for Mother Nature to decide what she was doing. Days like this could sometimes turn into a week or more, supporting her habit of keeping extra supplies at the cabin.

  On the bright side, however, that fallen tree, though an ultimate pain-in-the-neck she’d have to deal with, would further deter the weekend sight-seers from coming all the way to the road’s end. There were always those few who wanted to see what her lane led to, despite the private property, no trespassing, sign.

  Gus continued to whine and paw at a brown mound of something. From here it looked like another pile of mud and rocks, but it could be a deer or other animal, possibly hit by a car. Although, there were no tracks on the road besides her own. Maybe the upended tree had uncovered some kind of animal burrow and Gus was trying to dig his way inside.

  “Gus. Come!” She called. If it was a dead or wounded animal, she didn’t want Gus near it. “Gus!” When he didn’t respond, Brie’s pulse kicked up a notch. It wasn’t like him to disobey her.

  Brie hurried faster, misjudged a step, and landed on all fours in the muck. By the time she’d regained her footing, she’d given up on trying to wipe the mud off. Her face and chest were spattered, her hands covered, and a few brown drops even dripped from her hair. She’d had enough of their walk for today. She wanted to go back to the cabin and get cleaned up!

  Ahead, Gus licked at whatever lay in that pile of rocks. “Gus! Stop!” She yelled, frustration seeping into her voice. Worried she’d find some kind of mangled, decayed carcass, she steeled herself as she reached the mound and pulled Gus away.

  Disbelief stole her breath, leaving her gasp hollow and empty. This carcass didn’t seem decayed at all, but it did look broken. Especially his neck which was kinked at a disturbing angle. With shaky fingers she felt for a pulse.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Awareness came and went, like the wisp of a breeze; here, then gone before he could fully grasp it. Struggling to hang on, to drag himself from the boundless dark, he felt something wet slide across his cheek, but he couldna summon the strength to open his eyes, let alone brush it away. Besides, it offered a bit of distraction from the pain emanating from his hips, back and neck. And most acutely, his head. He tried to move, winced, moaned, and stilled.

  Och! Mayhap sleep is best. Less pain with sleep.

  Something pressed against his neck.

  Nae. Dinna poke and pester. Let me sleep.

  Had someone called for a Gus, or had he imagined it?

  Who was Gus? Was he Gus? He couldna quite remember.

  Something pressed against his head with the weight of an anvil, but he couldna ken if ’twas on the inside or the outside.

  How did the anvil get inside?

  ~ ~ ~

  Brie breathed a sigh of relief when she felt a pulse. Faint, but steady. The man’s skin felt icy, his breath so shallow she feared it might stop at any moment.

  How had he gotten here? How long had he been like this? Whoever he was, he was a disheveled, wild looking, muddy mess with his long black hair and an oddly authentic-looking Scottish costume. What was someone dressed like that, doing up here?

  Her thoughts shot straight to the mountain-man-intruder, but it didn’t make sense that he would dress that way. Unless he really was crazy, as some suspected. If he meant the costume as a disguise, he’d picked a poor one, since it would immediately draw the attention of anyone who saw him.

  As would his large size. Both her hands wouldn’t begin to circle one bicep. He wasn’t just bulked up from hours in a gym. He was broad and brawny, as if he’d spent a lifetime outdoors. She doubted he’d gotten that bronzed, rugged look, or those weathered lines fanning the outer edges of his eyes, working at a desk. His black hair fell away from the sharp angles of his face, exposing a jawline shadowed by dark stubble. How could he appear so fierce and so vulnerable, at the same time?

  She chewed her lip as she studied his position in the rocks, unable to tell how badly he was injured. What now? She couldn’t call for help and she had absolutely no idea how to move him. But, despite serious apprehension about taking him to her cabin, she could see no other choice. Even if he was the so-called ‘mountain-man’, she couldn’t leave him in this condition, all bruised and battered. He wouldn’t survive. She’d have to do what she could for him.

  But that didn’t mean she’d let her guard down or take any unnecessary chances. Although, the way Gus hovered over him said a lot to lessen her discomfort. One of Gus’s greatest assets was his ability to read people. And he clearly liked his discovery-of-the-day.

  The man twitched and rolled his head to the side, eliciting a deep moan of agony. Brie’s chest tightened as—

  Blood!

  Turning his head had exposed a mass of hair matted with a mixture of seeping and congealed blood. Several thin, bloody rivulets stained the rock beneath, as they trailed into the grass and mud at its base. Brie leaned closer, gingerly touching the back of his head, but she couldn’t tell how extensive the gash was.

  So much blood!

  He needed immediate care. But what if moving him harmed him further? Overhead, the sun shone bright enough, but enough murky clouds lingered in the distance, she wouldn’t rule out rain, later. Either way the air felt colder, and she suspected there could be more rain. Whoever, or whatever he was, she needed to get him out of these rocks and up to her cabin. But how?

  Think, Brie.

  She removed her jacket and spread it over him, grimacing at the paltry bit of his chest and shoulders it covered. “Stay with him, Gus,” she instructed, pointing to where she wanted Gus to lie, beside the man. “Stay. I’ll be back for both of you.”

  Running was next to impossible, but she made the best time she could, ignoring the bushes and branches that tore at her jeans and scratched her legs, when she was able to use the side of the road. When she couldn’t, she endured the sucking, slippery muck. Either way, it seemed to take forever. By the time she reached the cabin, her lungs burned, and her fingers sh
ook from cold or nerves, she wasn’t sure which.

  Unable to think of any other options, she raced to the shed where she kept the generator and her dad’s old 4-wheeler, grateful she’d kept the ancient ATV serviced. When she yanked open the door, she spied the old wooden snow sled from her childhood, still hanging on the wall.

  Better than nothing, she thought as she grabbed the sled and a rope, securing them onto the back of the ATV. After a couple of frustrating tries, she finally started the machine and drove to the back door of the cabin. Leaving the engine running, she raced inside for a blanket and a bottle of water, pointedly ignoring the trail of gooey mud she left in her wake.

  Maneuvering the 4-wheeler through the deep goop proved even harder than walking in it. Twice, she skidded out of control, thankful for the slight berm that kept her from sliding further than the road’s edge. She’d have to be more cautious. Further down, where the man lay, no berm existed. Just the steep slope before the drop-off into the gulch.

  She made herself drive slower, using the lowest gear to crawl through the mud at an exasperating pace, but at least she stayed on the road.

  Gus whined and stood when she rounded the bend, alternately licking the man and looking at her, his tail waving like a checkered-flag at a drag race. Brie felt sure this was the slowest race she’d ever run, with possibly the gravest consequences.

  When she finally reached them, she turned a wide circle, pointing the ATV back up the hill toward her cabin and jumped off to check the man’s condition before unloading the sled. Suddenly, the idea of putting someone his size on that child’s sled seemed not only ridiculous, but impossible.

  His eyes were still closed as she knelt and spread the blanket over him. “Good job, Gus,” she said when the dog whined again and nosed her hand. “Now, all we have to do is figure out how in the world, we’re going to get him out of these rocks.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Something prodded his shoulder, jarred his head and set a hammer to the anvil, again.

  “Cease, ye blasted fool,” he croaked. “Have ye no pity?”

  “Oh!” Someone gasped. “You’re awake! I…I was just…. How do you feel?”

  A woman’s voice? The sound seemed to echo as it ricocheted inside his head.

  Raising his eyelids the slightest amount instantly rewarded him with a knife-thrust of pain. He winced, groaned and squeezed them tight again. The light was excruciating.

  “Does the light hurt?” she asked.

  “Blow it out.” He whispered.

  “What?”

  Had she no’ heard him? “The light,” he tried to speak a little louder, but his own voice reverberated painfully in his head. “Could ye blow it out, lass? ’Tis too bright by far.”

  “Well…” She sounded unsure. “It’s the sun, so…”

  He felt her wiggling at his side and wished she wouldna jostle him so.

  “How’s this? Better?”

  Cautiously, he tested whatever she meant, by barely opening one eye. Startled by the face hovering but an inch above him, he would have recoiled if he hadna already been pressed firmly against the anvil. But thankfully, ’twas no’ as bright as before. He opened both eyes. Wider.

  Her head blocked the sun, creating a shining halo around her pale hair. But ’twas the sapphire of her eyes, deep and dark rimmed, that held his attention. Her breath fanned his face as she studied him, her parted lips so near, all he had to do was lift his head and…

  Wait. Had she asked him something? He couldna recall just what.

  “Who are ye?” he finally mumbled.

  “I’m Brie.” She smiled, pulling back a little. “Who are you?”

  Thankfully, she still shaded his face, though he struggled to adjust to the additional light. He wished she’d come back.

  She arched her brows, waiting for his response.

  Och. Aye. Who was he? He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing prompted his tongue to move. No name, familiar or otherwise, came to mind. Inside his head was a twisting, curling cloud of gray smoke and try as he might, he couldna find his way in, nor out of it.

  “I dinna quite remember.” Startled at such a blunder, he thought harder. “Someone called for a Gus. Mayhap…I am Gus?”

  An odd look crossed her pretty face. “I called Gus. He’s my dog.”

  “Ahh,” he muttered, inordinately disappointed, then irritation seeped in, followed by a slithering panic.

  If not Gus, then who the bloody hell, am I?

  He looked out at the trees, rising tall to the bruised sky, then at what he could see of the rocky bed he lay in. Nothing looked familiar. No’ even the beautiful woman leaning over him.

  “Brie.” He tried her name on his tongue, searching for a hint of familiarity. “Do ye ken who I am? Where I am? Why I am here?”

  Her wide, expressive eyes spoke for her, as he followed their transformation from confusion to realization, to…compassion? “I—well, Gus actually—found you lying here. From your clothing and your accent, I’d guess you’re Scottish, but no, I don’t know you, or why you’re up here. You seem to have taken a pretty bad fall. There’s a gash on the back of your head that probably needs stitches. I don’t know if anything is broken.”

  Besides his pounding head, he had a monstrous kink in his neck. Mayhap, if he moved... Gritting his teeth, he shifted his shoulders—

  “How about taking things one step at a time. Where do you hurt?”

  Everywhere. But nothing so much as his head. “ ’Tis only the light that bothers me, but dinna fash. ’Twill pass.”

  “Really? That’s it? Judging by this bed of rocks you’re lying in, that makes you pretty lucky. Oh, wait! I forgot! Can you cover your eyes with your hand for a sec?”

  Though confused, he complied, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulder. She moved away and pulled something from beneath the blanket. “My jacket,” she explained. “I totally spaced putting my sunglasses in my pocket earlier. Let me see if they’ll stretch a bit so they won’t be too tight.”

  He felt her lean over him again. “Okay. Try these.” She pressed something into his hand. “Keep your eyes closed until you get them on. I’m sorry if they pinch a little.”

  “I dinna ken. What did ye say this is?”

  “Sunglasses. Just put them on.”

  Still confused, he hesitated.

  “Here. Let me. Move your hand.”

  Something scraped along the sides of his head and settled on his nose. Glasses. He knew glasses. Strange how recognizing something that simple, relieved him. But how would they help with the sun? Cautiously, he opened his eyes. The sun’s glare was dimmer, no’ quite so painful.

  Glasses for the sun. A wonder, indeed.

  “How are they?” Brie asked as Gus whined and nosed his shoulder.

  “Fine, lass. A boon. My thanks to ye.” He rested his hand on Gus’s head, becoming more aware of his surroundings. Birds chirped above him and something small chattered and scurried through the brush. Despite the sun, the air felt cool and the rocky ground beneath him, wet and cold.

  Everything smelled of a recent rain. He ticked off the odors he recognized, hoping they would trigger a memory. Forest scents. Grasses. Wood. Wet pine needles. Mud. A wet dog. None of which formed a whole picture in his mind of how he knew them or where he’d experienced them before.

  There were smells he dinna ken, as well. The unpleasant acrid scent that accompanied the noisy contraption rumbling behind Brie. Shrubbery he couldna put a name to. Her scent when she’d leaned over him. Soft. Enchanting. ’Twas on the blanket covering him, as well. He resisted the urge to pull it closer to his face.

  Questions swirled in his brain, sucking him in like a whirlpool. Who was she? How had she and Gus found him? What was this place? What was he doing here? How did he end up in these rocks? Why dinna he ken anything before awakening on strange ground with this monstrous ache in his head?

  Anger, frustration and helplessness engu
lfed him as he clenched his fingers and tensed the muscles in each limb to test their strength before moving each one an inch or two. He was sore, surely bruised, but he dinna believe anything was broken.

  “Everything feel okay?” Brie asked. “Do you feel strong enough to try getting up now? We should get you to the cabin and take care of that gash.”

  “Cabin?” he asked, looking at her as more questions flooded his muddled head.

  “Yes. Where I live. For the summer, anyway.”

  “Have I been there before?”

  An odd look crossed her pretty face. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  Her arm came around him as he raised his head and struggled into a sitting position. He swayed, clamped his jaws together at the increased pain the movement caused and tried to wait out the wave of dizziness.

  “Doing okay?” she asked, holding him tighter.

  “Aye,” he lied. “I’m fine, lass.” He took his first really good look around. Endless forest spread out before him, split by a narrow road blocked by a fallen tree. Gus, filthy and mud spattered, danced at his side, his tail a blur.

  He turned his gaze to Brie. Lovely. Mud and all. The deep blue eyes he’d stared into earlier were even more arresting as part of a whole image. Flaxen, mud-speckled hair curled past her shoulders. Pink-blushed skin. Perfect mouth. He couldna imagine forgetting her if he’d known her before…

  Before what?

  The disturbing, unanswered questions came again, swirling faster, with ever increasing aggravation.

  Gathering his strength, working with all the coordination he could muster, he managed to shift onto one knee, pausing momentarily for the dizziness to abate, then leaned on the rocks to steady himself as he slowly stood. Though a bit wobbly, he felt tremendously relieved to be off the bloody rocks and standing under his own power. Almost.