Authors: Samantha Leal
Awakening with a start, Jessa realized Shane was awake as well. It had been his slight movement that woke her. She was still tired but knew it was just as well she had awakened. She knew what they had to do. She had known all along. She whispered for him to get up and grab his bag. She made the signal for silence and he complied without question. He could feel that something was disturbing his mother, so he just did as he was told in silence. The stealthy communication had become second nature in this new world of survival. It was not the first time that they had had to leave quickly and without detection.
They left the house with practiced efficiency, leaving Michael asleep in an adjacent room where he had apparently crashed to sleep off his own spent passion. Jessa was thankful that Shane had not seen him as they left. They moved north, changing course and making sure to leave no marks behind to be tracked. She settled back into the woods, moving quickly, her son walking deftly beside her. He was beginning to show signs that he would become a natural woodsman, she noted absently. She wanted to put as much distance between them and Michael as she could. She was convinced that having him in her life meant nothing but trouble. He was trouble for her at least. Her body ached with every step she took and her insides were sore and raw. It was a pleasurable pain though, and the barest hint of a smile played on her face as the pair walked into the rising sun.
***
Michael slept better than he had in years, feeling pleasurably dead to the world. His mind had stopped racing as he had just lain there, totally sated. He awoke on the short sofa, he legs sticking almost a foot off the edge. He could not help but smile at the prior night’s events. He had one of those smiles that could be felt from one side of the face all the way to the other. Stretching, Michael’s first instinct was to check on her. He just wanted to see her, maybe just to affirm that the night had really happened, but he thought against it.
He remained in bed for almost another hour and still had not heard the slightest sound from the shuttered bedroom. After he had changed his clothes, which he still wore from the day before, he washed his face and even started a small fire outside for breakfast. He found it hard to imagine, him cooking breakfast like he was the woman in the relationship. He didn’t care though. If playing the female role got him sex like that, he would do any little chore needed to make her happy. Hell, he’d put on a dress too if that’s what it took.
Unable to wait anymore, Michael nudged the bedroom door open quietly. He could not believe that the kid, at least, hadn’t gotten up yet. He fondly remembered his own always being the first one up in the house. He knew that door had not budged since he had been up because his eyes were never far from it. You always have to be ready in this world. As he opened it, he realized with a start, that they were gone. Unable to believe his eyes, he hurriedly checked the rest of the small house. He scanned the immediate perimeter as well, calling their names.
Looking around he quickly surmised that all of their stuff was gone as well. She had taken it all with her, which meant that wherever she went, she did not plan on returning. Michael cursed and smashed his fist into the wall. Here he was sleeping like a baby from the best night of his life thinking he had finally found a woman…and not just any woman, but a woman he could really have feelings for, and she had up and left him in the night. Just his luck to lose her before they even got started. He knew he shouldn’t have come on so strong, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Fuck. He had blown it again.
After a moment of malaise, he realized she couldn’t be that far ahead, traveling with a child on foot. She couldn’t have left before the sun came up, could she? He didn’t know, but he knew that he had to find her. He had to find her again, he corrected himself with a shake of his head. He knew she liked him. It was obvious. He just had to get to see that they could be a good thing for each other.
Michael’s mind set, he packed up quickly and picked up the tortillas his domestic smitten ass had actually made for the woman and her son. He had planned on a sort of breakfast in bed, and maybe impressing her with his thoughtfulness. They were simply ground corn and water, but still. He couldn’t believe his own naivety and cursed himself for letting his guard down, as well as for being such a sucker. His agitation made his steps quicker, though it wasn’t long before he realized that there was no trail to follow. This woman had once again surprised him. Although he would have appreciated a nice clear set of tracks and signs to follow, he also had to admit that he found her growing list of survival skills to be pretty impressive.
He continued east, the way she had been going before he had pounced on her like a wild cat. He walked faster than she could, even running for short bursts, but still not a trace of her could be found with even his trained eye. If he didn’t have a few scratches on his chest, he may have thought the whole night had been just a really good dream. After a day of chasing her, he wondered if he was chasing a ghost. Maybe she was just a nymph that crossed his path one night because the Gods had smiled on him. Sometimes anything felt possible in this strange abandoned land.
***
Jessa had no misconception of what had happened between them. She blamed it on pure hormones. Michael had fit the description of her desire and he had caught her at a moment of weakness. She kept telling herself that version of the narrative as she walked, one foot in front of the other. Each step reminded her of the man with the sea-blue eyes, but she tried to push him from her mind. She couldn’t be distracted and he was most definitely a distraction with a capital D.
There was something more to her running off from him though. He had touched a part of her that she had not felt in a long time and she was not sure that she wanted to feel again. She had to keep her walls up. Every time Jessa got close to someone in the world, something bad happened. She couldn’t lose anyone else. In an effort to escape all that pain, she had convinced herself that if she just got to the coast and maybe found an island somewhere everything would be okay. That was what kept her going.
Besides, Michael had his own mission, and he had plans to go in exactly the opposite direction from where she wanted to go in order to fulfill it. While her mind hoped that she didn’t see him again, she knew that her body would ignore her if he so much as appeared around the corner. She couldn’t afford to be thinking about this now, she decided. She had to get them to safety. With that thought, she grabbed her son’s hand more tightly as they walked along yet another road. Leaning into the strengthening breeze from the coast, she quickened their pace just a little bit more. They would find their island. She was sure of it.
The End
The story continues in Book 2, available now from Amazon
Leela Ash
Copyright ©2016 by Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
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1.
Alisa Craig heaved a heavy sigh as she shelved the books left over on the cart. It was the end of the day, so everybody had left the library, which was normally a good thing. Today though, it wasn't. It meant that she was alone with her thoughts, none of which were particularly pleasant.
Things hadn't been going well at home. She had married her high school sweetheart, and had believed that they were the perfect couple. She was a librarian and he was an accountant; two boring, meticulous people who only had eyes for each other.
Lately though, she wasn't so sure. She had been getting a lot of signs that Carl might not be as honorable as she thought. He was being secretive and strange. She wondered if he might have hit his midlife crisis early. It was beginning to make her nervous. He had begun to surprise her with random gifts.
In most relationships it would be a nice way to spice up the marriage, but it just made Alisa nervous. She couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling guilty about something. Carl was a man who held on to every penny that came into his grasp, and to see him parting so easily with his money on trivial things like flowers and jewelry was a huge warning bell.
Alisa sighed. Where had she gone wrong? They had been married for six years, ever since they were both twenty. Maybe they had married too early after all, just as her mother had told her. But then, her mother had never really liked Carl. She said he was bad news, and claimed she knew through a mother's intuition. She took her Scottish roots seriously, and had a lot of superstitions that Alisa never really understood.
Normally she would be able to take comfort in her appearance. If he was being fishy because there was another woman, did he think she was slacking off with it? The thought was absurd. She still turned heads wherever she went. Her long, golden blonde hair fell over her shoulders, making her look glamorous even on the worst of days. And most men couldn't take their eyes off of her full pink lips, even though she never painted them in seductive shades of red. And she could always rely on her soulful blue eyes to hold others rapt in her attention for as long as she wanted them there. Her beauty wasn't a gift she had found particularly useful though, and thought it attracted too many questionable people to her.
She had been happy to settle down with Carl. He was the sweet, quiet guy of her dreams; a man she believed could see past her beauty and into her truest self. That was something he liked to pretend he could do, while the rest of the male population were busy tripping over themselves to check out her ass.
No, she hadn't slipped up on her appearance. In fact, she found that she was getting more attention than ever lately. On a daily basis she could count on at least three library patrons complimenting her or trying to get her phone number. Most of the men didn't care that she had a wedding ring on. She knew it made Carl madly jealous. Maybe he had finally become so paranoid that he convinced himself that he wasn't worth her full attention, so she must be having it off with some other man who was more worthy of her than he was.
It would make her furious if that was the case, and he was using it to justify cheating on her. She pushed a book into its place hard, nearly cracking the binding. She felt suddenly irresponsible as a librarian and pulled the book back out to make sure she hadn't damaged it, at least not too badly. When she saw the cover of the book, she was startled by a vibrant image of Scotland, a place she knew well from lore and paintings.
She had been craving tales of Scotland lately. She used to curl up with her mother for hours and listen to her speak about the mystical and mysterious place. She would have done anything to listen to another tale about her distant highlander relatives.
Unfortunately for her love of the old tales, her mother had shared the same love and succumbed to the deep, burning desire in her heart of hearts to use her retirement fund to move back to Scotland. This left Alisa alone, and saddened by the fact that she would no longer be able to listen to her mother weave the tales she loved so much.
Maybe this book would help her to fill the void. It also gave her a comforting thought. Maybe, if worst came to worst with Carl, a visit to her mom's wouldn't be such a bad idea. If her suspicions were proven true, it would be a nice excuse to escape life for a while and soak up the intoxicating tales her mother shared with her.
She flipped through the book, her eyes hungrily taking in the words. It seemed like a romance story, one that was captivating and engaging. It wouldn't hurt anything to take the book home. She could see to any repairs that might need to be made and use it as a way to distract herself from the emotional toll she was dealing with as a result of her suspicions of Carl's cheating. There was no way to know for sure, and sometimes she felt guilty for even considering it, but she was only human.
***
That night, Alisa sat in her study, fingering a piece of ancient tartan cloth that her mother had given to her. Her mother had always kept a huge sheet of it close in a wicker basket beside her chair. It was a family heirloom, she had told Alisa, and although she wanted to keep part of it for herself, she had cut it up and divided it among Alisa and her four brothers and bestowed it upon them with its tale when they each turned sixteen. She had been the last to hear the tale from her mother, and had kept the cloth close by her ever since.
As legend had it, a handsome Highland devil, Lord Blane Wyndham, had been traveling for days, hoping to wreak havoc on the lowland settlement that liked to try policing his clan's ways. He was rounding the bend, nearly there after his long journey, when he ran into a beautiful woman. She was unlike any he had ever seen, and her clear eyes held him still in his tracks. She saw he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. He could tell she was not highland stock, for she was scrawny and pale. Still, he had never seen anyone more beautiful.
“You up to no good, highlander?” she asked him.
“Aye,” he said with a charming smile.
As it happened, the woman was a noble lady, daughter of Blane's most hated enemy. They began a forbidden, elicit romance, one that nearly started a war between the highland clan and the lowlander's settlement. Finally, highlander and lowlander came to an agreement – a peace treaty, if the two young lovers would be allowed to live in their own way.
Everything was going well until, one day, the young woman was approached by a group of huge men.
“You're making a mistake, getting involved with Lord Blane,” the leader told her. “He is already engaged to be wed, and to a highlander. We don't need lowlanders contaminating our stock.”
“Nothing you can say will dissuade me from marrying him,” the plucky lass said, unintimidated by the three men. “He is my true love, in any time, in all ways.”
“This is Lord Todd,” the leader said, gesturing to a stern man. “His clan outnumbers Blane's by hundreds. If you don't make yourself scarce, he will attack, and the blood will be on your hands.”
The three men left, and the lass was left to ponder their threat. She wanted to speak to her betrothed about it, but before she reached him, she was intercepted by Lord Todd.
“You'd best keep your mouth shut lass, or we'll take care of you and your family. They'll regret making peace with the highlanders.”
The lady returned to her family home in the lowlands, where she tossed and turned, before finally falling into a fitful sleep. She had been having dreams of a faraway place, somewhere strange and different but so vivid that it seemed she could reach out and touch it if she tried.
The wedding was set for the next day, and she awoke feeling scared and concerned. There was nobody whose counsel she trusted, and so she held the terrible secret in her breast. When she walked toward her beloved to tie the knot, he looked at her with such love and tenderness that she almost fainted with worry. His life was in danger if she said yes.
The lass approached Lord Blane, touching his cheek gently, silently telling him her good byes. Tears streamed down her face and her hands trailed down his body, until they rested on his waist, fingering his tartan kilt. She knew she couldn't marry her beloved, not if it put his life in danger, but there was nowhere she could go, and no explanation she could give him that would be sufficient to break the peace treaty.
She heard a faint noise behind her beloved and looked up to stare into the fierce eyes of Lord Todd, who was hiding in the trees. He was gripping a broadsword, and she paled. In her fear and disdain, she remembered the vivid images she had seen while she slept and closed her eyes tightly. If only she could go where nobody would make such impossible demands on her, and keep her lover and his clan safe!
Suddenly, she disappeared before everybody's eyes and was brought into the world of her dreams.
Lord Blane went nearly crazy with worry as he searched for his lost love, unable to explain the event that had happened right before his eyes. He spent his life obsessed with following her, and sought help from oracles and sorceresses. Finally, one asked him to bring her the last item his lost love had touched. He thought immediately of his kilt, and she charmed it so that what was lost would quickly be found. Unfortunately, before the kilt could bring back his lost love, Lord Blane was killed. His clan was under attack by Lord Todd, despite his word that they would leave him alone if the lass left. Apparently he was jealous that such a beautiful woman would be interested in Lord Blane, and not himself. He took it out on the lot of them.
The kilt had survived through the ages, along with the tale. Since then, it had been said that the tartan could make the lost found again and bring good luck to those who touched it. Alisa's mother swore by the tartan's powers. Whenever Alisa or one of her brothers had lost something, their mother could find it, and she always said it was due to the charm put on the tartan cloth in her wicker basket.
Alisa stroked the tartan cloth now as she opened the book to check its binding, slipping on her glasses and peering closely at it. She could repair it easily, that was the good news. The bad news was that Carl had bought her a dozen roses and was downstairs watching a football game. He had never had any interest in football before, but now he seemed to have suddenly found it fascinating. He had come home that evening and been so sweet that she'd almost felt guilty suspecting him of cheating. But then she smelled something – perfume – as he walked by, and her guilt turned to nausea and anger.
Now she opened the book, noting how coincidental it was that she should be holding an ancient piece of tartan as she read about a hot and heavy romance between a noble woman and a powerful, masculine highlander. The passion between them brought a blush to her cheeks, and she stroked the tartan cloth absently as she read, her mind on the hills of Scotland and the legends that had fascinated her since she was a young girl. She had always wanted a place among the legends.
At the very least, since she turned sixteen, she had a piece of mystical cloth for herself. She wasn't sure how she would use it, but she felt comforted as she held it close, reading about the romance between the noble woman and the highlander hero, trying to distract herself from Carl and wishing that she had her own bare-chested hero to carry her off, into the beautiful hills of Scotland.