“Who are you. What do you want?”
She knew the man wasn’t just someone looking for help with a flat tire, or directions to somewhere. No one on the road, could get past Mac. She could hear the faint sound of the chain-saw, so Mac and Gus were still down there. This person must have come through the trees.
Panic tightened her chest and she felt the beginnings of a cold sweat. She was trapped in here. One way in. One way out. No one would even hear her scream.
Glancing around for anything she could use as a weapon, she spied a large pipe wrench hanging on a nail. It was that, or a roll of tubing. For the first time, she regretted her compulsion to keep everything so neat and tidy.
She eased toward the pipe wrench.
The man took a step forward. “Since I’ve seen the study material inside your cabin, I have no doubt you could find a way to use that,” he drawled as he pulled a .32 caliber Beretta from his pocket. “I’ll bet you even know the caliber of this gun and the damage it can do at this distance.”
She did. She’d just written it into her novel. A tremor snaked up her spine. He’d been in her cabin? Nausea and terror tangled her gut. Especially with his gun aimed at her belly.
“Since my armament trumps yours, you should step away from the wrench.”
Would Mac hear a gunshot? Not that it would matter, since this man was too close to miss. Regret swamped her, even wiping away her nausea. Mac had wanted to share his feelings for her, but she’d gotten scared and refused to listen, wasting what time they did have together. And now it could be too late to tell him how much she wanted to hear what he had to say. How much she wantedhim.
“You’re an interesting woman, Ms. Drummond. You have lovely taste in furniture. Even clothes. But you’re lousy when it comes to a choice of vocation.”
Hervocation? “How do you kn—?” Wait. His drawl sounded familiar. “Do I know you?”
“We’ve met.” He came closer, away from the glare of the sun, behind him.
Her mouth fell open but no words would form on her frozen tongue.Calvin Blanchard?She swallowed and tried again. “You’rethe Mou—?" She pressed her lips into a tight line.
“Mountain Man?” he finished for her. “You think I don’t know all the names people call me? Let’s see… The hysterical historical teacher. The survivalist nerd. I could go on, but I think I make my point. I’m not quite as simple as everyone assumes.” He waved the barrel of the gun a little. “I’m more…a wolf in sheep’s clothing, to coin a biblical phrase.” His smile was slow and calculated. “But I’m actually okay withThe Mountain Man. It suggests strength, cunning, and the ability to annihilate any threats. Nature or human.” He shrugged. “Pretty close, if you ask me.”
Brie’s nausea returned with a vengeance. “What do you want, here?”
“Initially, I came for your solar generator. If you hadn’t flaunted the little gem like you did, leaving it out on your deck, I’d have never bothered with your cabin. I only do unoccupied cabins. Well…until now,” he shrugged. “The storm and the end-of-season crowds drove me further out, which is how I noticed your generator, in the first place.” He glanced around the shed. “So, where is it?”
There was no use trying to stop him. Besides, she didn’t intend to make her last stand over a paltry generator. “Over there, on that pallet. Take it and go. I won’t stop you.”
He snorted. “Of course, you won’t. But we have another conundrum to solve, don’t we?”
“What would that be?” she asked hesitantly. The look on his face terrified her.Please, Mac! Run out of gas and come get me.But she could still hear the saw going.Wander home, Gus! Then you can go get Mac for me, the way you got me for him.
“Unfortunately, now that you’ve identified me, I can’t just walk away and leave you here.”
“I won’t tell anyone! I promise. You can have the generator. It’s a gift.”
He actually laughed. “Seriously? You’re not writing dialogue in one of your novels, Ms. Drummond. Besides, the generator already belongs to me, like everything else on the mountain. It’s only a matter of deciding when to claim something. I’m sorry, but you don’t have much to negotiate with.”
The man was crazy. As bad as she wanted to, she wasn’t foolish enough to rush him with his finger on the trigger of that Beretta. Suddenly, all of the made-up, spunky heroine scenario’s she’d ever written, seemed as devised as her characters.
“Your kilted hero isn’t going to be sawing apart that tree forever, so decisions must be made. I’ve wasted too much time, already.”
Her heart lodged in her throat and her pulse pounded in her ears. She could barely breathe.Please, Mac. Come!
“What…decisions? Specifically?”
Exasperation tightened his features and he shook his head as if he were trying to keep his patience with a child. “Whether to take you with me, or…” He shrugged and lifted the gun a little higher. “Really, Ms. Drummond, you disappoint me. I considered the pleasantries of a little intellectual interchange. But I sense you probably aren’t up to the task, so you leave me no choice.”
“Brie.”
“Pardon?”
“If we’re going to…uhh, converse, then you might as well call me by my first name.” She had to buy some time until Mac came. “I’d…enjoy talking with you.”
