Chapter 8

David Elliott's Cottage

Hood River, OR

It was certainly a change moving to Oregon, away from the hustle and bustle of DC city life. Even his flat in Europe had been located in the heart of London, where nothing was ever too far out of reach. CB had been a generous friend, not only offering him a job he wasn't skilled in but also a rustic A-frame home that needed a little TLC and someone to care for it full time. The place had been a rental property on the verge of dereliction, but he found the small home rather charming.

Wood needed replacing, and the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the home required weatherproofing. After a few months, the repairs were finished, and the A-frame was restored to its former glory.

As he trudged up the front steps, Harm glanced up at the cloudy skies and sighed heavily. The crappy weather was unwelcome, and so were the feelings he thought he'd buried two years ago. He cracked open the green door and placed his muddy boots on a tray by the entrance. His jacket went on its usual hook, and as he walked through the living room and into the kitchen, he realized how gloomy the place seemed.

It wasn't just the weather—it was the feeling that Mac had followed him here. He half considered stepping out the back door and searching for her rental car, but that was ridiculous; he was just being paranoid. With a sigh, he made a beeline for the bathroom, located on the bottom floor, on the opposite side of the spiral staircase that led to the loft-style bedroom. He felt dirty, even though they barely made it to the landing. Something about his work clothes always made him feel a little sticky.

At first, he rejected the man who stared back at him—the bearded logger who had replaced the clean-cut sailor he once was. It had taken time to get used to his new image. Though he hated facial hair, it was a necessary part of keeping his real identity hidden.

Even so, it had grown far too craggily for his taste and needed a trim before his next bi-weekly trip to the barbershop. He just couldn't be bothered. The unkempt look had shocked Mac a little, which had been a source of amusement for him. It was clear that she didn't approve of his new look, and he was pleased by her reaction. Unfortunately, his warning wasn't enough to drive her away, and he was too stupid to think she'd simply leave.

"You know you'd do the same," he muttered to his reflection, knowing that he'd be too stubborn to leave if the tables were turned. It didn't help that she'd dropped one hell of a bombshell on his lap: she was divorced.

It made the last two years feel avoidable. Not that it mattered, because he was certainly over Mac. He had a girl - sort of. He hadn't seen her in over a month, and their relationship was on its last legs, but still, he had a girl.

She was mostly nice, understanding, and fun, the last of which he desperately needed. He trusted her enough to expose most of his past, even the events that led to Mac's marriage, which he might have discussed during a drunken stupor. Ellie helped prevent the full-blown alcoholism Harm nearly succumbed to. She was a friend and, most importantly, a lover to stave off his more basic needs. They were good together - sort of - and he cared for her enough to see a future with her. The breakup, as past relationships tended to go, was his fault, and his desire to remedy that problem was now on pause.

How the hell did Mac dare to suddenly appear when his life was on some sort of track? She just burst back into his life without any consideration that maybe, just maybe, he was over her. The repressed anger was mostly gone, and he was happier, stable, normal. Then came sidewinder MacKenzie to destroy the little peace he finally had. It wasn't right, nor was it fair, especially given how destructive, argumentative, and pigheaded a certain Marine always was.

He was done with her, and yet his heart galloped a little faster when he saw her, and damn if she didn't stir up his most primal desires. Mac still looked good, real good and the urge to do something about that feeling was only halted because he needed to shift his focus back on hating her. Or at least try to hate her, because it was incredibly difficult to hate someone he still… loved.

"Shit." And that was the simple truth he tried to deny, the only reason his current relationship had crashed so spectacularly. The back-and-forth with his feelings felt like emotional whiplash, and as he stepped into the shower, he hoped the warm water would wash away his worries.

It didn't and after a quick shower, he headed upstairs to the loft, dressed, and then walked past the bed to the balcony, which overlooked a small creek. The cottage was far enough away from the main city to offer a little peace, something that was hard to come by in the hustle of the big city.

This time, his thoughts shifted off of Mac and to the other woman in his life, Eleanor Dawson, the woman he had started seeing no less than a month after arriving in Hood River.

Ellie was recovering from her own broken heart, a result of a loveless marriage to a man she only ever spoke about once. The blonde was tough but bubbly, a no-nonsense kind of woman who captivated him enough to wish for a more permanent relationship. Unlike most of the women he usually dated, she didn't need rescuing. She was his equal.

"Like Mac," he muttered out loud, but then instantly backpedaled. Ellie was nothing like the Marine with her incomprehensible priggishness. Nor did she have the baggage of a difficult upbringing or alcoholism to overcome. Ellie fought her own battles. She had left an engineering job in New York and ended up in Hood River, owning the local pub, of all places, just to seek peace.

And now she was gone. She had left Hood River to give him "space" while she decided how the relationship would proceed. To be fair, Harm needed the time too, because his own willingness to commit was starting to waver for reasons he couldn't quite explain. He disliked his own indecision and ached at the fact that his relationship with his parents was so limited that he couldn't even seek guidance from the man who had raised him.

He had a few friends in the logging community but none that he trusted enough to discuss women's problems with. Sighing, he dropped into one of the two chairs on the porch and frowned.

--

Harm hadn't planned on leaving the cottage, especially since surprise days off meant he could finally catch up on housework or finish the books he'd started. But his restless thoughts wouldn't let him relax, and a mid-afternoon trip into town seemed like the only way to quiet his mind and escape the madness swirling in it.

Hood River had become a haven for travelers who loved outdoor activities, hiking, mountain climbing, windsurfing, and its thriving microbrewery scene. The drive into town was always a pleasant one, with its charming downtown and Mount Hood looming behind the city like a silent giant.

Rain fell in gentle droplets, enhancing the fresh scent of pine and the crisp atmosphere, which prompted most tourists and locals to seek out indoor activities. Harm passed by the pub, deliberately avoiding it. Ellie's employees had caught wind of their fallout, and to some, he was now persona non grata. Instead, he found himself at a more neutral spot: a quaint restaurant where the beers were perfectly chilled, and the tacos nearly rivaled those in SoCal.

He took his usual seat at the far end of the bar, a spot that allowed him to keep an eye on all the patrons and, most importantly, the front door. It also offered easy access to the kitchen and bathrooms, both of which could provide a quick egress if needed. His time spent in hiding had made Harm a little paranoid in public spaces, but after the first few months of isolation, he refused to live like a monk.

"Beer, please. Whatever's on tap," he ordered and visibly cringed when the bartender, a woman named Gigi, turned and raised an eyebrow. "Only one... maybe two," he added, reading her skeptical expression. He sighed heavily when she set a glass of iced water in front of him instead. "I'm not an alcoholic, Gigi. Whatever Ellie said about me is..."

"Probably the truth, handsome." The petite, curvy brunette's gravelly voice didn't quite match her appearance. In her mid-thirties, Gigi looked much younger, but her cynical attitude was one he usually associated with older women. "But you're still a pathetic asshole when you're drunk."

"Did I ever apologize?" Harm cringed at the memory—Ellie and Gigi finding him at the park by the river, completely hammered and slurring nonsense. It had been over a year ago, and though Ellie had forgiven him, it was clear Gigi hadn't. "Cut me some slack."

"Maybe." She slid the beer in front of him, but pulled it back just as his hand reached for the frosted glass. "Maybe not... You know how it is in Hood River." She looked at him curiously, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. " So, who's the brunette Doug saw you talking to during his last kayak trip?"

"Here we go," he muttered under his breath, leaning back and rolling his eyes. He wasn't there for an interrogation, only wanted to unwind a little. "A friend. An old friend. And no one's concern but mine."

"Friend, huh?" Gigi slid the beer toward him and leaned her hip against the rear counter. She watched him take a sip, trying to read the expression that always seemed so veiled and mysterious. David Elliott was an enigma who was always lurking in the shadows. She knew he was running from something and wondered if the mystery woman was it. "Doug said your conversation didn't look friendly, or maybe he said it was too friendly… I can't remember. He did mention, though, that she was a looker."

"It's none of your business, Gigi or Doug's."

"Only it is, handsome…Eleanor's my best friend, and I'll be damned if another man causes her grief again," Gigi fired back with a sharp tone. "Come to think of it you-"

Harm tuned her out and the rest of her words faded into background noise as something far more pressing grabbed his attention. There was a sudden, suffocating feeling, like the oxygen had been sucked right out of the room. His breath caught, and his eyes shifted slowly toward the front door.

His heart began to pound so violently he thought it might burst from his chest. He tried to hide behind a pillar, but Gigi had already noticed. It was the kind of reaction a caged animal must experience, cornered and unable to escape.

"What's up, handsome?"

"Put the beer on my tab, I have to go," he said with a clipped voice.

"Wait, what?"

Harmon Rabb Jr. wasn't afraid of Sarah MacKenzie—he wasn't afraid of anything. But the cold sweat running down his spine and the clamminess in his hands betrayed him. He wasn't afraid of her, but he wasn't ready to face her either. He fled, walking casually toward the restrooms, then cutting through the kitchen to slip out the backdoor unnoticed. It was for her own good, he told himself. David Elliott and Sarah MacKenzie did not move in the same circles.

Mac noticed his escape but deduced he was in the head and not rounding the building through the use of the back alley. She propped herself on a stool next to the one he formerly occupied not expecting hostility from the woman behind the bar. "Hello."

"Hi and bye. Restaurant's closed, Toots. Find somewhere else to eat."

She glanced out at the main dining area where several groups of guests laughed over the 80s soft rock that blared over the speakers. Servers were still bringing out meals and attending to other patrons that had walked in just behind her.

"Funny, it looks pretty open to me," Mac replied, her gaze returning to Gigi with a smile.

"It is open, just not for you," Gigi shot back with an icy tone. She tried her best to glare at Mac, though the taller woman's presence made her feel insignificant. She understood why David had run; the energy coming off of this woman was intense, almost like a force of nature. It was unsettling at best if not a little dangerous. "Please go."

Ever defiant, Mac propped her elbows on the bar and clamped her hands together. She smiled feigning amusement. "May I ask why?"

"Because I say so, Toots. You need to leave - now." While the other woman didn't yell her tone was enough to alert some of the employees who took interest in their interaction.

Marine intuition made her aware of her surroundings, specifically the gentleman on the opposite side of the bar who had come closer. She lowered her hands, balled one into a fist and stared at him with a look that meant business. "I will but, I'm waiting on my friend." With her head she motioned towards the bathroom and then eyed the beer he barely drank. "Once he comes out-"

"Wait til Ellie finds out about you." Gigi's tone was a cocky, warning kind that was a little unsettling although it piqued the Marine's interest.

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?"

"Pray you don't find out." Gigi took the pint of beer and tossed its contents into a sink just below the bar. "Looks like your friend wants nothing to do with you. I'd take that as a sign and leave David the hell alone."

She followed Gigi's eyes and glanced out the windows to see a man that looked like Harm hurrying across the street. The rain made him harder to spot and without warning, Mac hopped off the stool and gave chase. "Shit."

Harm disappeared into the ether and she felt like a fool standing in the middle of the busy street while the weather worsened. A car honked its horn and a kid yelled obscenities as he drove past on a motorcycle narrowly careening into Mac.

From her vantage point it was impossible to see much at all, the rain had emptied the sidewalks. But there was a man sitting behind the wheel of a vintage Chevy truck halfway up the road.

Harm struggled to catch his breath, his mind racing to justify why he had run. He felt like a pathetic, cowardly buffon. He wasn't afraid of Sarah MacKenzie, though there had always been something about her that unnerved him in ways he couldn't explain.

Still, no amount of reasoning could drown out the voice in his head telling him to turn around and face her. But pride forced him to stop. He was too angry, too raw to go crawling back home now. Gritting his teeth, he threw the car into park and focused on the little white rental Mac was driving.

If he couldn't confront her, he could at least follow her.

At first, Mac didn't notice the truck trailing behind. It took a few blocks and a long pause at a traffic light for the unease to creep in. The relentless sheets of rain blurred her view, and with the truck keeping several car lengths back, it was nearly impossible to make out the driver. Still, a flicker of instinct told her something was off and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if her trip to Oregon had somehow compromised Harm's cover.

No, that couldn't be. She'd been cautious, meticulous in every step from California to Oregon. No paper trails. But lingering in Hood River after their conversation had been a mistake. She should've gone, left things where they stood with memories of happy moments tangled in misunderstandings that led to a painful ending. That was their way after all and no amount of apologies could fix that.

Testing her suspicions, Mac looped through Hood River's downtown, deliberately weaving through her hotel parking lot and exiting on the opposite side. But when she started a second loop and the truck still followed, the nagging worry in her chest tightened into fear.

Her palms grew slick against the steering wheel, and her heart pounded so violently it felt as if it might break through her ribs. If she was still unsure the truck blowing through a red light cinched any misgivings.

The realization snapped Mac into survival mode. Without hesitation, she merged onto the main road, the one that would lead her out of town and away from Harm.

Her grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles white as the rain hammered against the windshield. Every instinct screamed at her to create distance, to disappear before whoever was following could close the gap. Whether it was paranoia or a real threat didn't matter now. She couldn't take that chance, she couldn't let anyone find him.

Mac pressed harder on the gas, eyes flicking between the road ahead and the shadowy outline of the truck in her rearview mirror.

The truck's driver flashed their lights, momentarily blinding her. A sharp blare of the horn cut through the pounding rain as they tried to match her speed. "C'mon you piece of shit!"

The winding road offered little room for error and the worn-out tires of Mac's rental struggled against the slick pavement. As she rounded a sharp curve, the car hit a patch of standing water with its tires losing their grip forcing then steering wheel to jerk in her hands.

She couldn't correct the vehicle, it refused to stay on the road instead skidding sideways crashing through the wet brush before slamming into a ditch. The impact stole her breath and for a moment everything faded into the sounds of pouring rain and the low hum of the engine.

Harm's pulse pounded in his ears as he gripped the steering wheel, every instinct driving him to stay on Mac's tail. He hadn't thought it through or stopped to consider how reckless this was. Raw emotion guided him in this foolish game. When she floored it, he did the same, blowing through an intersection without a second thought.

The road ahead was closed two miles up, and the thought of Mac hurting herself guided his poor instincts. "Damnit, Mac! Slow down!" he yelled, slamming his palm against the horn and flashing his high beams in desperation. He just wanted her to stop but this wasn't what he intended. He never wanted her to lose control.

His breath caught as he watched the rental swerve, the tires sliding out from under her. The car spun wildly before careening off the road and crashing into a ditch, disappearing from sight.

"Mac!"

Harm barely remembered throwing the truck into park before he was out the door, sprinting down the embankment. Rain soaked through his clothes as he scrambled toward the battered car. He expected the worst, her mangled body sandwiched between twisted metal. Blood, there was likely to be so much blood and it would all be his fault.

Instead, Mac stumbled out, one hand pressed to her forehead, blood snaking down her face from where she'd hit the steering wheel. He let out a sigh of relief and cautiously came to her side. "Mac! Are you alright?"

She sagged against the car, glaring up at him through rain-matted hair. "Were you actually trying to kill me?"

He almost laughed at the absurdity of her words.

"Why the hell were you speeding!?"

Mac slapped his hand away the moment he reached for her. "I was… I thought you were..Ugh, never mind! I'm an idiot."

The flush of embarrassment crept up her neck, turning her cheeks a soft pink. Harm noticed, of course he noticed, and the amused grin that spread across his face only made her ire grow. "Don't act so amused."

"I'm not," he lied, his grin spreading into his infamous grin.

Ignoring her resistance, he reached for her again, this time more carefully. When she swatted his hand away a second time, Harm let out a defeated sigh. "Let me see, Colonel. You might need stitches."

Mac hesitated, eyes narrowing, but the growing pain above her brow and the dizziness that followed, reminded her that he wasn't wrong. Grudgingly, she tilted her head just enough for him to examine the gash. His fingertips brushed lightly along her scalp, probing around the cut above her left eyebrow. She winced but didn't pull back.

Harm gently lifted her chin, studying her eyes for any sign of a concussion. "I think you'll live," he said in a voice so soft she might have missed it.

He reached into the vehicle, shut off its engine but kept the key in the ignition before closing the door. There was no major damage, mostly cosmetic and he was relieved she hadn't hit the tree a mere five feet in front of her. "C'mon, lets get outta here."

"Where?" she asked warily.

"To get you cleaned up." Without warning, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the vehicle.

"But what about the car?"

"One of the boys has a tow truck. I'll call him to pull it out and leave it in the yard."

She stared at him for a long second, weighing whether to argue, to fight. She was angry with him, with them and everything that transpired. He pulled her closer and despite her desire to give up - Mac let him lead.