Dawn spread over the landscape, faint light peeking under a heavy sky. I exited my Mountain Rescue Jeep and inflated my lungs with cool, crisp air. Snow would come soon, though we were barely halfway into October. With it, the complexity of my work would rise.
Wintery days brought freezing temperatures and drenching fog that rose from nowhere. With Gordain now having stepped back, I had a wealth of tasks to get on with. Planning. Training. Rotas. Volunteers and professionals I still needed to meet.
So why the fuck was my brain locked on to the enigmatic Cait McRae?
It had been a few weeks since our last conversation outside our homes, and beyond that, we’d barely spoken.
Everything about the lass intrigued me.
Her style—flowery dresses with a denim jacket and brown boots. Her fair hair usually tied up. Her friendliness to everyone who came by.
The scent of baking that wafted from her place. The way she’d warmed to my daughter and made our introduction to our new home ten times easier.
The way, over a month, no boyfriend had appeared, despite the fact Cait was pregnant.
Those little details had started to fascinate me. I shouldn’t have let them. I couldn’t allow the distraction.
I grumbled to myself and stomped down the mountain track. From the only other car in this isolated spot, a dog barked.
Her owner popped the door and climbed out, releasing his animal from a harness.
The brown-and-white Collie, a member of our crew, bounded up to me then shot away to sit by the door of the building we’d come to see. She gave another bark, and Cameron McRae ducked his head in greeting.
“Mr Ross,” he said. Then he indicated to his dog. “Ellie’s keen to get inside.”
“Lead on. Show me the place,” I asked.
Cameron directed me into the small cottage I’d wanted to see. Hill House was vacant of residents and used as an area command centre. In its position high above a glen, it had excellent views but was cut off by a rocky ridge above and thick forests meeting heather-strewn slopes below. It made a good base for rescues in this part of our reach.
I stooped under the low doorway and poked my head into the basic downstairs rooms. Cameron pointed out the generator for power, space for multiple agencies to meet, and supplies for restocking. It all appeared in order.
He led me into what must’ve originally been the front room.
As well as wanting to see the house, I also wanted to get to know this lad. Despite my reservations, he’d impressed me over the past month and, as Gordain had noted, Cameron showed up for almost every call. He’d been a key asset. His animal, too.
From under the table, the dog watched us, all aquiver, and with her attention locked on her owner.
I lifted my chin to Cameron. “How long have ye had her?”
“Three years.”
“She has a good track record.”
“Aye. Same as her owner.” He gave me a thoughtful look but didn’t elaborate on his statement.
This was a big part of my needing one-on-one time with him. I’d seen him follow instruction and manage others with quiet words, typically with a serious expression to his blue eyes that belied his age. Gordain had told me how Cameron had been six foot at thirteen and joined the volunteer team at sixteen, despite being too young to go out on the hill. He knew the locale like the back of his hand, and nothing fazed him. He didn’t yammer on like other people his age, and his capabilities were plain.
With anyone else, I’d expect to have this explained to me in detail in an attempt to impress. Not Cameron.
He reminded me of myself.
I liked this stoic young man. Right now, he was about the age I’d been when my life had turned upside down.
“I’ve been covering off the terrain over the past couple of weeks,” I said. “Hiking the areas that come up most in incident reports.”
Cameron dipped his head in approval.
“The peak beyond this cabin features a lot in winter. Can ye tell me why?”
He rubbed his square jaw, his gaze flitting to the window. “When there’s snow on the ground, the wide glen with the access road makes a picturesque walk. Ye can go deep into the mountains from here, and there’s a hidden waterfall within an hour’s trek. Signal’s shite, though, and the weather can change in a heartbeat. The windchill knocks people on their arses. The cold drains their energy, and they find they can’t get back to their cars. Then if the granite’s naw sticky, the tracks have poor footing. Under snow, it can be a death trap.”
Cameron talked me through the rescues he’d attended here, and I ran over the details of the reports I’d read. They were typically the more straightforward kind—extracting a hypothermic or injured person to medical care via a rolling stretcher—though there had been a winch operation by helicopter once or twice, too.
We were well into the detail when his dog sat up, her ears pricking. She barked once.
Cameron stood and moved to the window. He peered out then went to the door, checking the road. When he returned, his eyebrows drove together. “Strange. Ellie’s telling me someone’s here. She did the same a few weeks ago when we were on a supply run, and she’s rarely wrong.”
“Could be a passerby?”
“Aye. Maybe they’re out of sight.” He didn’t look convinced.
I had no idea why, but Cait’s graffitied door sprang to mind. “What day were ye here before?”
“I’ll check.” Cameron pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, the screen lighting up with a picture of a smiling lass.
“Your girlfriend?” I asked.
Pink spots appeared on his cheeks, and he huffed a laugh, quickly moving on to his calendar app. “I wish.”
The urge came over me to warn him to keep himself to himself for a few years more. Not that his life was any of my concern, but entanglements brought an end to youth. Freedom replaced with constant vigilance and worry. I’d never regret my life, because Isla was my world, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else either.
“Here.” Cameron gave me the date: the day we’d arrived in the Highlands. The same time Cait’s door had been painted.
My sense of misgiving increased. This time, I wasn’t about to expose Cait’s business to yet another of her relatives. Her cousin, Blayne, had accepted my apology, and he’d shown deep concern over what had happened. As anyone would. I wished I knew what action Cait had taken. Whether she’d discovered anything.
If it hadn’t been a local, could the perpetrator have hidden out here?
The dog gave another bark. Cameron stood taller.
“Does anyone use this building bar us?” I scanned the rooms again.
“No. They shouldnae.” He gestured to his dog. “Ellie, seek.”
As if rocket-powered, she launched away and scampered up the stairs, her claws clacking on the bare wooden treads.
We jogged after her.
The dog made a beeline for a doorway. In the corner of a bedroom, a sleeping bag laid rolled up on the floorboards. She sat next to it and barked once.
Cameron ruffled the fur on Ellie’s head in praise. “No wonder she was quivering. I instructed her to rest, but she was on edge.”
I picked up the sleeping bag, revealing empty packets of energy bars and a flattened can. A quick examination provided no further clues. No name label that would be there for the property of a scout. No red paint smears, though the likelihood would’ve been small.
“Was this here before?” I asked.
“Naw last month, I ken that for sure.”
“Do ye know of any reason someone would stay here overnight?”
“Not on-crew. It’s not kitted out for that. We’d change teams and send people home,” Cameron added.
“I’ll take it away and bin it. Dinna want to encourage anyone to come back.” I bundled up the mess and took it to my car.
For the next hour, Cameron escorted me on a circular walk around the hill before we went our separate ways.
I drove back the few miles to my cottage, my mind churning over and making connections.
I didn’t believe in coincidences, but I couldn’t be sure if this was relevant to Cait’s problem. Or how I’d find out.
Cait’s car waited in its usual spot, next to where I parked. She was home. I had an hour until I needed to collect Isla so mulled over going to speak to my neighbour. Yet feverish energy infected me, and I couldn’t shake it off. I needed to burn it up before I could stand in front of the woman who’d claimed my peace of mind.
I knew my protective instincts were stronger than most.
Too often, women and children needed defending from men. It was a fact of the world that laws couldn’t always provide. Some lowlifes could only be prevented from acting out their evils by the strength and aggression of better men. I’d been taught that as a boy, afraid of my father even as I’d escaped with my mother and Blair, and believed it to this day.
Not that I thought women weak. Ma was the strongest woman I knew, and she’d raised Blair and me as equals, working endless hours to provide for us. But the simple truth was, in general, men were physically stronger.
Brutal, sometimes.
Cait lived alone in her cottage. Even on this remote and wild estate with her kin nearby, she was vulnerable. She’d already been attacked with the word scrawled on her door.
And she was going to have a bairn.
That set every alpha male instinct in me to high alert.
Fuck, I almost shook with the will to command her to listen to me. To let me include her in my daily concerns.
If I went to her like this, tense and stubborn, we’d end up fighting again.
Outside the back of the cottages, a short, walled-in patio kept the forest at bay. Beyond, a cleared area of hillside made a good spot to chop wood for the fire. Isla and I had a well-stocked store already, but there was nothing wrong with adding to it.
I stowed my jacket on the wall and unlocked the shed to grab an axe, hefting it over my shoulder as I strode to a waiting tree stump in the clearing. In short order, I split a thick pine bough into chunks, then set about making kindling.
The thud of the axe resounded and ricocheted in the damp, muffling air.
Heat built, and I shed my jumper and t-shirt, leaving myself bare-chested.
Sweat coated my skin. I swung the weapon and took out my emotions on the wood. Fuck people threatening others. Isla, Cait—they’d both been victims.
I put more power into my muscles.
The pine halved, pieces flying.
How fucking dare someone daub paint on the lass’s door. What a brainless, cowardly arsehole. If I ever found out who did it…
Movement at the cottages halted my efforts. I focused and found Cait at the window. She stared at me. I stared right back.
Ah God, she was pretty.
On her shoulder, a wee bairn snuggled. A soft shape in her arms.
My stomach tightened.
Whose bairn that was, I had no idea, but it looked content. I heaved in a breath, utterly caught on the vision before me. Likewise, Cait seemed stuck. Her gaze coasted over my form, and I straightened, letting her take her fill.
With the axe across my shoulders, my arms hooked over it, I knew the effect it had on my muscles.
She touched on my broad shoulders, abs, and over the smattering of black hair on my chest. She followed the trail down to where it disappeared under my combat trousers. I felt every inch of her attention as if her fingers slid over my skin.
I had no business engaging in this moment. No reason at all to let myself succumb to a deep, rolling wave of attraction.
Nor could I stop it.
Abruptly, Cait turned away, and I was released, my rising instincts only worse than before.
