“There,” Brie declared. “It actually looks pretty good. The bleeding has stopped. As long as we keep it clean, I think you’ll do just fine.” She moved around to face him. “But just to be sure, I want to get a close look at your eyes, again. They were fine when I first found you, but that documentary said, with any head injury, to watch for dilated pupils, especially before letting the injured person sleep.”
Brie’s careful study of his eyes gave him a chance to stare shamelessly into hers. Her intelligent, dark blue gaze made him wish he had the time and luxury to ken all the secrets behind them.
She blinked, moved away and began gathering her things. “They seem to be fine. No variations. I think you’re safe to rest in a little while.”
“Thank ye, Brie. I dinna ken how to repay yer kindness for all ye’ve done. Or Gus,” he added, “for finding me.”
At the sound of his name, Gus wagged his tail and gave Mac’s hand a lick. Brie’s laugh brought a smile to Mac’s face, as well. ’Twas a lovely laugh he wished to hear more of.
“Your turn is coming, Gus,” she reminded him.
“But we’re not finished with you, yet.” She looked pointedly at Mac. “I can see that you’re exhausted, but I think if you get out of those muddy things and take a shower first, you’ll rest better. Unless you’d prefer a bath.”
Had he kenned the wordshowerbefore and forgotten it’s meaning? His head hurt too bad to puzzle it out. “Bath.”
“Bath it is. Sit here while I go turn on the water and see if I can find you some clean clothes to put on. There are still some of my father’s things in a trunk that might work.”
“Yer father’s?” He queried. “No’ yer…husband’s?” He waited for her answer, ashamed that it mattered.
Her expression went carefully blank, but he sensed something guarded, in her eyes. “No husband. This was my parent’s cabin,” she explained. “I just haven’t cleared everything out, just yet. You’re larger than my father was, but I might find something that will work.”
She left before he could say more or ask about her parents, so he rested, battling his sudden, overwhelming fatigue as he watched Brie move back and forth between a couple of rooms.
“Okay. I think we’re ready,” she announced. “The bathroom is this way.” She looked at him with another worried expression. “Try not to fall asleep in the tub. I’d never be able to get you out.”
He followed Brie to a door halfway down the hall, Gus on his heels.
“I put towels and some clean clothes on the counter,” she said. “Call if you need anything.”
Once inside, Mac let his plaid drop to the floor as he stared at the long, deep tub of steaming water, too tired to puzzle out how Brie had managed to heat so much water so fast, or what some of the strange objects in the room, were. Gingerly, he stepped into the tub and slowly sank into blissful heat. He wiggled as low as he could, letting the water soothe his aching muscles and quiet his agonized soul.
He’d lost himself—somewhere, inside— and dinna ken how to find his way out.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brie built up the fire, set out the ingredients for hot chocolate, and started a pot of soup for lunch. Hopefully, Mac could stay awake long enough to eat. He was clearly exhausted. She had no idea what he’d been through before his fall, but he’d certainly endured enough since. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to wake up to no past, no knowledge of who you are.
Even if you wanted to forget parts of your past, losing all of it would be devastating.
“Okay, Gus,” she said, grabbing the broom and dust pan. “Back to your blanket while I tackle all this mud.”
When she’d first found Mac, she’d been worried he might be the mountain-man. The strange thing was, he still could be, and just didn’t remember.Yet.But, something in her gut told her otherwise. He seemed kind. Gentle, even. She couldn’t imagine him intentionally exploiting anyone. Gus clearly liked him, and against her better judgement, so did she.
On the other hand, her judgement had certainly deceived her in the past. She knew better than to throw caution to the wind a second time.
“It’s just you and me, Gus.” She put the broom and dustpan away and grabbed the mop.
She’d just finished mopping the last of the mud when Mac stepped into the hallway. He rolled his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable in her father’s clothes. The old pajama pants fit Mac well enough, though a bit short. The T-shirt, however, stretched over his muscular torso, defining his arms and chest much too clearly for comfort.Hercomfort. The way he wore the shirt almost made her forget what he’d looked like without one.Almost. Even the horrific scars he bore hadn’t diminished the raw beauty of his body.
Okay. You noticed.She chided herself. But who wouldn’t have? That didn’t mean anything.
He’d pushed his hair back, accentuating the dark stubble on his chin. But it was the pale blue of his eyes, so startling beneath his black brows, that held her attention, just as they had the first time he’d opened them and again when she’d examined them. They were heavy lidded now, with fatigue and…something else.
“Well. Look at you,” she said, ignoring the flicker of heat, low in her belly. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa and I’ll get you a mug of hot chocolate. I made some soup for lunch if you’re hungry. It’s almost ready.”
“Aye,” he yawned, letting his gaze drift, lazily, over her face. “It smells wonderful.”
She swallowed, determined to not give any significance to the attraction. She didn’t know Mac.Hedidn’t even know himself. Besides, he’d be leaving as soon as the road was dried out and cleared, a stranger with a made-up name. “I’ll get you that hot chocolate.”
