“Aye. Verra well,” he nodded at the gap in the tree-barricade. “I ken we’ll be able to finish today.” Which meant his time here would be finished, as soon as the roads were ready.
When Brie looked at him, he held her gaze, willing her to say she’d changed her mind and wanted to hear from him, again. He searched for some sign of hope in her unforgettable emerald eyes, but only found determination.
That’s how he’d remember her. Strong. Generous. Determined. The softness of her body when he held her. Her scent. But most of all, the tenderness of her heart.
And Gus, he smiled, as the dog came bounding across the road to wind between his legs and lift his head for a hearty rub behind the ears.
He couldna bear the thought of leaving either of them.
“Well,” Brie said, getting to her feet. “I guess this tree isn’t going to move itself. Do you still have plenty of gas in the saw?”
Gas? Mac glanced at the saw, sitting on the ground. “I’m sorry. I dinna ken.”
“That’s okay,” Brie said, her face softening. “All these little things you don’t remember, will eventually come back to you.” She checked the saw and gave him a reassuring smile. “Be patient with yourself, Mac. The memories will come.”
She touched his arm, reassuringly, as she passed, then got back on her wheeled machine. “The gas is low, but you can continue with what you have. I’ll go get more from the shed. Anything else you want while I’m there?”
“Nae. Thank ye, lass.” Mac picked up the saw and waited while she started her machine.
“Wanna go, Gus?” Brie patted the back of the seat. But Gus circled Mac’s legs and laid down. “Traitor,” she laughed, then headed up the road, toward the cabin.
Mac watched her leave, feeling powerless to hold onto the bond he’d thought had grown between them. Sighing, he started the saw and continued to cut away the only thing keeping them together.
CHAPTER NINE
He wandered leisurely through Brie Drummond’s cabin.What a foolish woman to think that feeble little door lock could keep someone out. Especially someone with his skills.
It angered him that no one knew or appreciated how really good he was at his craft. They never bothered to look past the nerdy history teacher with an unusual interest in wilderness survival. They didn’t grasp his keen intellect or his uncanny instincts. They certainly wouldn’t put any store in his belief that society, as a whole, was on the verge of an apocalyptic collapse.
Most people, like those with cabins up here, weren’t interested in preparation, therefore, they weren’t interested in survival. Consequently, they not only wouldn’t need the things he requisitioned from their homes, they didn’t deserve them.
He sneered at the Drummond woman’s laptop; the tool of a collapsing world. He was required to use one in his teacher persona, butheheld the power of choice, up here. He did, however, give some attention to the titles of books on what must be her research shelf.
The Crime Writers Handbook, A Complete Guide to Plant Poisons, Old Medicinal Remedies In A New World, Interrogation Tactics, How To Turn Just About Anything Into A Weapon, Heroes and Heroines,and other romance writing drivel.
Of course, he could buy any of them he wanted. Order them right off the devil internet. But the point of survival was to scavenge for what you needed.Andfor what you wanted. He’d add those first few books to his pick-up-later list.
Also added to the list, were innumerable items from Ms. Drummond’s pantry, and some choices from her stock of medical supplies. Maybe even a coat or two, if they suited him. Clearly, she had some inkling the world was out of balance. Otherwise, why keep so much on hand?
He’d tracked her movements, just like he had everyone’s up here, and knew she went into town every couple of weeks, so she had no need to stockpile so much.
It all played very well into his hands, of course, but she’d surprised him, and few people did that. Perhaps the two of them had more in common than he’d thought. An opportunity to share perspectives on the world situation might have been stimulating.
Now that he’d seen this storehouse of useful items, he’d plot a series of visits to return and collect what he wanted. Since this was his firstpresentlyoccupiedcabin, his visits would require additional care and skill. Even the anticipation of such a challenge, brought a pleasant, familiar tingle.
He picked up a tiny pewter replica of a wizard sitting beside Ms. Drummond’s laptop and dropped it into his pocket. He liked to keep one small trinket from his first visit to each cabin, to represent his victory over the cabin owner’s intellect, as well as their property.
After his careful search of the cabin he knew the solar generator had to be in the shed out back. It was time to collect the prize and take his leave, before the cabin’s occupants finished with that tree and returned. Stepping onto the deck, he could hear the whine of the chain-saw in the distance, and grinned.
People were such gullible fools.
He repeated the sentiment as he approached the shed and saw the door not only unlocked but standing ajar. Apparently, the Drummond woman and her friend had been in such a hurry to start working on the tree, they’d been completely careless about locking up. It served them right to forfeit their property if they weren’t any better caretakers than that.
~ ~ ~
Brie sorted through a line of gas cans, not only needing gas for the saw, but she’d run out of gas in the ATV, as well. Foolish. Now she’d have to lug these cans clear back down the lane, where she’d left the 4-wheeler. She’d just located the gas for the saw, when a shadow darkened the door. “Mac?” she glanced up. “Can you believe I—?”
Her stomach lurched when she realized the silhouette represented someone of much smaller stature than Mac. Trembling, she rose to her full height, praying her voice wouldn’t betray her fear.
