Chapter Three

The morning sun slashed across Erin’s closed lids and forced him to open his eyes. For a moment he’d forgotten where he was, but it all returned within seconds, as did the image of the woman who haunted his sleep.

It was a painful way to wake, with no warm body beside him to ease the ache betwixt his legs. Nor did it aid him to know she lay but a few feet away in another chamber. She had teased and tantalized him all through the night and yet remained beyond reach. Just as she was now.

He rolled to the edge of the bed and scraped his scalp with his fingers. It made little sense that she haunted him so completely when he’d only just met the woman. There were plenty of fair lassies to be had at home, but none had plagued him so thoroughly from the start like this one.

A sound in the hall brought him to his feet. She was awake. He needed to ready himself for the battle that was sure to ensue once he told her he would not be leaving.

After a quick and somewhat cold shower to alieve his aroused state, he dressed in the same borrowed clothes, likely those of his brother-in-law’s, then made his way downstairs.

His steady stride came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen doorway at the sight of her. She was so much more beautiful in person than in his dream. He shook his head, baffled by how quickly he had fallen under her spell.

“Good morning, Heather.”

She jumped faintly at his greeting then turned to face him. “Not for you. You’re out of here.”

“Ah, aboot that. I’m afraid I’ll no’ be leaving just yet.”

Her frown was almost comical, but he withheld his chuckle. He would need her aid until his godparents return. Or that is what he told himself.

“I know you doona believe my tale, and I doona blame you. This is an odd circumstance I find myself in, but I truly mean you no harm, lass. I only wish to stay and learn more, with your help, before I return home.”

She propped her hands upon her hips while twisting her lips into a delightful smirk. “You’re going to stick with your nutcase story.”

“There is more to my tale, but I canna explain it as of yet. I only ask that you give me a chance.”

Her gaze narrowed for a moment, and his heart leapt with hope. “I will be in your debt, lass.”

“Hmm. What sort of debt?”

A grin stole over his lips. “A favor. Some task that will make us even.”

She glanced to the snow laden world beyond the kitchen window, then looked back at him. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.” She crossed to where he stood in the doorway and poked her wee finger into his chest. “But don’t get too comfortable. If you so much as get out of line one time, I’ll knock you out on your ass so fast—”

A lovely chime rang through the house, and Heather froze, her finger still poking him, as her gaze focused over his shoulder toward the large door in the front hall.

Erin didn’t dare move, not knowing what the sound meant, but could see the fear on her face and knew it couldn’t be good.

“Heather, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked in hushed tones, gently taking hold of her wee hand.

She gave a faint shake of her head, but remained silent.

A loud banging began in the front hall, and Erin realized what it meant. Someone was at the door, and neither of them were supposed to be there. Especially Heather.

“Go to your room,” Erin said, pulling her through the main room. “I will see to the visitor.” He released her with a small shove toward the stairs then turned toward the door.

She ran to his side and grabbed his arm. “No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Just ignore it. They’ll—they’ll go away in a minute.”

The pounding continued and increased in its urgency.

Erin cupped her hand where she gripped him so firmly. “Nay, lass. They willna and ’twould be wrong to leave them out in this weather.”

She gazed up at him through those violet eyes. “But—”

“I’ll no’ let any harm come to you, Heather. I vow it.” He pressed a small kiss to her brow as if he’d done so a thousand times. It was second nature to protect women, it was how he was raised, but he felt a distinct draw toward this woman, something of the like he had never felt before. And one he had no desire to resist.

He pulled from her grip to go to the door. Pausing with his fist on the handle, he looked back at her. “Up the stairs, sweeting.”

She chewed her lip a moment then turned and dashed up the staircase. He’d wager she stopped just out of view to hear what was said and perhaps to come to his aid with her wee club should he need her help.

With a grin at the image the thought created, he turned and opened the large door.

“It’s about time,” the stranger said, then looked up at Erin. “Who the hell are you?”

“I would ask the same of you, lad.”

“Later, man,” the stranger muttered, and tried to muscle his way inside, but Erin wasn’t about to let him pass. “Come on! I’m freezin’ my ass off!”

“Burt? Is that you?” Heather called from the main hall.

“Heather! Thank God. Would you tell this dude to let me in? I’m freezin’ out here.”

She appeared at Erin’s side. “Why should I?”

“Hey, it wasn’t me. I swear, I didn’t say a word.”

Erin looked at her. “You know this lad?”

She let out a weary sigh. “Yeah, I know him.”

“Then should I let him inside?”

“Come on, man! Didn’t you just hear her? She knows me.”

With a moan, she turned around and walked back to the main room, calling over shoulder, “Let him in.”

Erin stepped aside, and the young lad rushed through the door to where the fire was blazing. He stopped before it and stomped snow off his boots, as he peeled away gloves that landed with a wet splat against the hearth.

Heather glanced at Erin as he joined them and sat on one of the fine chairs.

He cast her a grin and sat opposite her. She was afraid of being caught for trespassing, or perhaps there was something more dangerous from her past she feared would catch up with her. Either way she needed him as much as he needed her.

Heather rolled her eyes at the smug look on MacLean’s face. Yeah, so she didn’t want him to leave just yet. She had to find out what Burt was up to and if he would tell the truth, which she didn’t think he’d ever done a day in his life. But he was just a kid, and after all, she couldn’t very well let him freeze.

“Okay, Burt, spill it. Why are you here?”

He turned from warming his hands at the fire. “I came to warn you.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a snort. “We’ll get back to that in a minute. I want to know how you found me in the first place.”

“Well, I kind of followed you from Georgia. I wanted to square things up with you. I swear I didn’t tell anyone about the house, honest.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek and studied him. Maybe he was telling the truth, but he wasn’t squeaky clean either.

“The gang that trashed the place, or most of them anyway, got picked-up,” he said. “But your name was never mentioned, I swear.”

“That still doesn’t explain how they knew about the house being empty and easy to get into,” she said.

He dropped his head and tapped off the last of the snow from his boots. “They maybe could’ve followed me, I guess,” he mumbled.

Heather let out a heavy sigh. He was a good kid at heart but never had any luck at staying out of trouble. And she’d warned him several times about hanging out with that gang.

“Fine, you can stay, but only if you promise to stay out of trouble.”

His head popped up, and his eyes widened. “I can’t! I mean, you can’t. I heard in town that the owners are coming home Friday.”

Heather got to her feet and stood toe to toe with the kid. Burt was about four inches shorter than her five-foot seven and barely weighed more than she did. Although he was only fourteen years old, she still had no issue with letting him know she wasn’t going to go easy on him this time.

Leaning close, her nose scant inches from his, she said, “If you’re lying, I swear I’ll break your scrawny little neck.”

“I swear! I heard them talking in the diner about the Southlands.”

“You mean the Sutherlands, lad,” MacLean said, bringing Heather’s head around.

She looked at him sitting there, solid, strong, and sincere. How could he know their names? She only knew because she always made sure she wasn’t parking in a place more dangerous than the streets. She’d be dead if she got caught in a mobster or drug lord’s house instead of in jail.

“I figure we got thirty-six hours at the most,” Burt said.

MacLean got to his feet, a crooked grin on his face and pierced Heather with those deep chocolate eyes. “Nay, lad. We’ve all the time in the world.”

“Don’t you get it, man?” Burt paced back and forth before the fire. “They’re coming home. They’ll catch us all here, and we’ll all go to jail. Well, you guys will, ’cause I’m out of here as soon as I dry off and catch a few hours of sleep. No way am I going back to castle dread.”

Heather snagged him by the arm. “Calm down. You’re not going back, I promise. We’ll be out of here by morning and on our way. No harm, no foul.”

“Castle dread?” MacLean asked. “I’ve no’ heard of this castle. I didna think there were any in this country.”

Heather shook her head at his determination to continue his silly lie. There was no telling what the man was going to say next. “He means, he won’t go back to the orphanage.”

“Ah, I understand. No’ to worry, lad. All will be well. When Jenny and Ian arrive, I will explain everything.”

Ian and Jenny? A really bad feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach. How had a simple bit of borrowing a place to sleep for a few days turned into one whopper of an insanity trip?

“You’re not fooling anyone, MacLean. You couldn’t possibly know—wait. You were upstairs. You went through their stuff and got some info. And after I told you not to touch anything.”

“I went through nothing, sweeting.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He crossed his massive arms over his chest and sighed. “Lad, would you be kind enough to go into yon kitchen for a bit of something to eat while Heather and I discuss a few things?”

“Yon kitchen?” He chuckled, then swallowed it beneath MacLean’s glare. “Um, yeah. Sure. If it’s okay with Heather.”

She patted him on the shoulder then gave him a little shove. He really was a good kid, but she had to fight her own battles. She’d learned that a long time ago.

Once Burt was in the kitchen, she propped her hands on her hips and did her best to stare down the massive man.

“Up to now you’ve laid out such a load of bull no one in his right mind would believe another word out of your mouth. So, I don’t really care how you know who the owners are. All I care about is where I’ll be sleeping for the next few years, and buster, it’s not going to be a jail cell.”

“You’ll no’ be going to jail. I v—”

“You vow it, right. Look, just forget you ever met me or Burt, and by morning we’ll be out of your hair for good. Comprende?”

She started for the stairs. “Now I’m going to get my stuff together before I do my vanishing act, and I suggest you do the same.”

There was a sound in the front hall, and Heather stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t a knock this time, but keys turning the lock.

Burt appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a piece of bread in one hand, a glass of milk in the other. She had little doubt that the look on her face matched his, one of complete shock. It was too soon, based on Burt’s info, but sure enough, someone was coming in through the front door.

This time MacLean didn’t say a word or make any promises. He just turned and faced the newcomer.

Heather hoped, however unfair to MacLean and his unbelievable sense of chivalry, what with all that vowing and stuff, that he’d buy her some time to make a break for it. But he’d likely try to lay his wild story on whoever it was and they’d all get tossed in the loony bin.

A man wearing a cowboy hat and a sheepskin coat appeared in the doorway to the living room, his arms filled with supplies. “Mr. Sutherland didn’t say he was expecting any guests, so I suggest one of you start talking afore’ I go for the law,” the man said.

“Busted,” muttered Burt.

Heather cut a glance his way and wondered if she’d make it to the kitchen before getting nabbed. It was one old man against three, after all. He couldn’t keep up with all of them.

She took a small step, then halted when MacLean spoke.

“I am Erin MacLean of the clan MacLean. I am the godson of the Sutherlands. And you are?”

Godson? Oh he really is laying it on thick now, she thought.

“Name’s Jones. Fred Jones. I’m sort of the caretaker around here. Godson or not, I’m sure Mr. Sutherland would’ve phoned to let me know you were here.”

Burt slowly stepped back into the kitchen, no doubt working up to a full out bolt for the backdoor. And if Heather could make it to the kitchen, she’d be right behind him.

She took a few more hesitant steps in his direction, unable to bear the sight of MacLean trying to pull off his crazy con.

“’Twas an unexpected visit,” MacLean said. “I arrived shortly after the wedding celebration of their son, Adam, to my sister.”

Heather’s jaw fell open, and she had the distinct feeling that she might have squeaked. No words, no gasp, nothing but a pathetic chirp.

He’d lost it. That was the only explanation. He really was crazy.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. MacLean, but I’m afraid I’ll have to check this out with them.” The old man put the box down and pulled out his cell.

“Nay, I understand,” he replied.

That was Heather’s queue. She made for the kitchen as calmly as possible while MacLean moved closer to the caretaker. She couldn’t help but pause as he gawked at the cell phone. The look on his face, the absolute marvel, seemed so genuine. Could it be he really had been sheltered like he said?

She shook her head and started to walk toward the kitchen once again. Burt was no doubt already gone. It was the way things had to be to survive. You did what you could for your friends, but in the end, you could only count on one person. Yourself.

You’re on your own, MacLean, she thought, and hated the twinge of regret and guilt pinching her chest.

“Mr. Sutherland, sir, this is Fred Jones. Yes, sir, I’m sorry to be bothern’ you, but well, sir, you seem to have a few unexpected guests staying out here at the ranch. One of them says he’s your godson. Yes, sir. Erin MacLean. Yes, sir.

“He wants to talk to you,” the old man said.

Heather looked back over her shoulder as the old caretaker handed MacLean the phone. MacLean’s smile was so broad and his eyes so bright, she couldn’t look away.

He took the phone and awkwardly placed it to his ear. “Hello? Uncle Ian?”

Heather’s heart beat so fast, she could barely breathe. She was more stunned than when MacLean had first showed up.

“Aye, ’twas a shock to me as well,” he said into the phone. “I hadna’ planned to come.”

Heather managed a rough swallow, her feet edging backward.

“Adam’s idea, ’twould be my guess,” he continued. “Nay, I’ve only been here for a night and a day. Verra well, I vow no’ to borrow a car, but I doona promise no’ to look.” He laughed loud and long. “Aye, and give Aunt Jenny my love. I’ll see you soon.” He handed the phone back to the caretaker. “He wishes to speak with you.”

And that was the last thing Heather remembered. Other than the loud thud she made when she landed on the kitchen floor after stumbling over her own two feet. As confused as she was by the odd turn of events, her feet couldn’t decide whether to walk or run, so down she went.