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 areye?” 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 AngusandGregor?
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 school 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’tneedsuch 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 heshoppedthrough 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.
Even though the solar generator was his target today, the familiar tingle of pleasure snaked through him at the thought of slipping inside someone’s private dwelling. Touching their things. Picking and choosing what he wanted, as if it had all been laid out for him. He’d make his selections and come back for them when the time was right.
The Drummond cabin and shed were probably ripe with treasures. Remote cabins like hers tended to keep a lot more on hand than the more easily accessible ones. He could almost taste the sweetness of the victory he’d have today, and in days to come.
If the spoils were as good as he hoped, he’d probably have to make several visits to carry it all away. But he was in no hurry. Reconnaissance and planning were always key to a successful survivalist experience.
But first, the solar generator. He could go another whole summer and not find one that fit his needs so perfectly.
~ ~ ~
“Has the saw been working okay?” Brie asked, sitting on a section of tree to finish her water.
