Chapter 13

Duncan sat in front of the fire poking at the embers with an iron bar located by the fireplace. He thought about the woman sleeping in the next room. She seemed so delicate and incapable of handling the challenges that came with an immortal existence. And since she didn't seem to know anything about the game, did she need to be burdened by something she couldn't handle. If she did not put off the tell tale buzz to let other immortals know she was one of them, then she didn't have to worry about others coming after her.

On the other hand, maybe she was playing him for a fool. Maybe she knew everything she needed to know about the game. She would not be the first immortal he had ever met that deserved an Oscar. For all he knew, she was just waiting for him to let his guard down. If only he knew why he couldn't feel her presence, and could she really not feel him in return?

The fire had just about died out. Duncan reached over and grabbed another log from the pile of firewood. He turned the log over and studied it from several angles. Just what I need to clear my mind. Think I'll go chop more firewood. He stood up and headed for the door.

Once outside in the fresh air, the highlanders mind began to clear immediately. He walked over to the pile of wood stacked by the side of the cabin and picked up the ax leaning against it. He flipped it in the air and caught it again by the handle, then immediately started splitting the thick logs into quarters, one at a time.

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Celeste woke up in a cold sweat. She sat up quickly and immediately brought her hands to her torso to examine the hole where the sword punctured her chest. But it wasn't there. How long had she been out that it would have healed so quickly? Then the realization sunk in. There was no blood, and her t-shirt still hung on her shoulders in one piece. It was a dream. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. It was only a dream.

Nightmares were not unusual for her. And considering her past, it was not surprising that she would dream of the day that her life changed so dramatically. The dream had been an accurate account except for the man in the dream. But, her mind putting Duncan in his role was no surprise either. She had come to trust him without knowing much about him. He had a genuine good guy personality, and reluctantly she was able to admit to herself that she was attracted to him more than she was comfortable with. In fact, he was very much like the man who was there the day her nightmare had been reality.

These painful memories resurfacing were more than she could bear and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. But crying was not something she allowed herself to do any more. At least she tried her best to prevent it, so the thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she focused on the here and now. Looking around the room reminder her where she was and she suddenly became aware of a rhythmical cracking sound coming from outside. Sliding off the edge of the bed she walked over to the window and pushed the dusty curtain aside.

It was a beautiful sunny day. There were only a few fluffy clouds floating high in the sky and the lake sparkled like diamonds. Scanning the horizon, her gaze found the source of the cracking noise. About 100 feet away from the cabin, Duncan stood swinging a large ax, splitting logs into firewood. He wore a pair of fitted jeans and hidden boots. His hair was tied back with a narrow strip of leather and his muscular chest was bare. His skin was glistening with sweat.

Celeste's hand returned to the imaginary hole where his sword had pierced her heart moments ago. But this time the sensation was not pain nor was it imaginary. She could feel her heart beating fast as she watched him bring the ax up above his head, then down slamming into the defenseless wood.

Relationships had never been an important part of her life. But watching him made her want to break all her rules. The desire she suddenly felt made her think about the lonely life she had lived. The fear she carried for so long kept her from any meaningful relationships or even close friendships.

Is a long sad life really better than a short happy one? That question had never crossed her mind before now. Perhaps it was time to rethink her life strategy. Her past was over and she would never let it happen again. If they did find her again, she would fight until she killed them or they killed her. No more fear, no more running and no more being alone.

Celeste grabbed the bag that MacLeod had left and dumped out its contents on the bed. She quickly changed her clothes to a pair of jeans and a white tank, that were a little tighter than she was used to. A quick glance in the antique mirror made her smile as she realized the tighter clothes that she usually avoided really accentuated her perfectly proportioned curves. Things are going to be different from now on.

In the kitchen, she quickly mixed up some ice tea, poured two glassed and went out to the porch. The screen door slamming behind her as she walked through.

The loud band of the door made him stop and look up mid swing. She noticed his gaze as he looked her up and down several times, from her bare feet to her lovely face. A smile, bigger than she had seen from him before, crossed his face as she got closer and handed him the glass.