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 theprivate 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 theirwalkfor 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 shook from cold or nerves, she wasn’t sure which.
