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Authors: Donna Kauffman
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have to spell it out for her, that with Judd’s money and connections, it was likely he’d be back on the street in no time … and there was nothing they could do about it. What they didn’t have to tell her was how much angrier he’d be after getting bail posted.
She had no family to run to, no friends she would put in the middle of a dangerous situation. She clearly recalled the sickeningly irrational look in Judd’s eyes. There was no vacation long enough to make him forget his determination to have her or destroy her.
So she’d emptied her accounts, bought the junk heap and called her boss about an extended vacation while she sorted out some personal problems. She was a climber, a go-getter, he’d said, but he’d noticed her work had been suffering of late. He had to be able to depend on her and if he couldn’t, there were others in her department that he could.
And so ended her illustrious career on Wall Street.
Which was why she needed to get her butt in gear and figure out what in the hell she was going to do. She couldn’t stay here forever. She shivered despite the roaring fire. Judd had connections all over the country, hell, all over the world. And Judd always got what he wanted. He’d find her. She didn’t know how, but she couldn’t believe he’d just let things go.
And she’d been sitting here for a week with her head in the sand, pretending things would just fix themselves. Maybe she’d head back over to the neighboring town of Griffith again and look into hiring a private detective. If she had someone following Judd, at least she’d know if he was tracking her down. And maybe, just maybe, she’d get some indication that he’d given up and was moving on to possess and control someone else.
Shuddering, she knew she didn’t believe that. Judd would never give up, even if he had ten women on his arm. Duncan was right. It was about pride and honor, as twisted as Judd’s was.
It hit her hard that she truly might never go home again. And just where in the hell
was
home for her anymore? Madden County, North Carolina?
Well, hiring the detective would at least give her some peace of mind while she figured out where she’d go to start over. It was a plan. She felt immediately better.
She hurried up the ladder and pulled on a thick sweater. She dragged her purse out from under a pile of laundry, then swore when she realized she’d better take that to town with her. She laughed humorlessly. Another life adjustment for the woman who had been a slave to her dry cleaner.
Her gaze fell on the journal lying open on the bed. She might as well take it with her, something to read during the spin cycles. Though she was still disappointed that she hadn’t seen any mention of Duncan or Mairi, the MacKinnons made frequent appearances in Lachlan’s roaming stories. Lachlan had time and again referred to something he termed the “Legend MacKinnon,” but he tended to ramble and go off on tangents.
She scooped up the book and reread the last paragraph.
My digging has brought me yet another tragic story from The Legend MacKinnon. I see my theory might have some weight to it. I am none too happy to be proven right. Too much tragedy between our clans. So much so the tales surrounding them have spawned a legend. And I must wonder how long these tales have endured? How many generations does this legend touch? And what was the spark that began it? These are the questions I must answer if I am to find my peace
.
The mystery of this “legend” had definitely sparked her curiosity. She would corner Duncan this evening, one wayor another, and question him on what he might know about it.
Not that she was looking for excuses to talk to the man or anything.
She was halfway down the ladder when she heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine. She dropped her things and moved quickly to the front window, careful to stand to one side as a dusty black four-wheel-drive Jeep pulled up behind her car. There was
She had no family to run to, no friends she would put in the middle of a dangerous situation. She clearly recalled the sickeningly irrational look in Judd’s eyes. There was no vacation long enough to make him forget his determination to have her or destroy her.
So she’d emptied her accounts, bought the junk heap and called her boss about an extended vacation while she sorted out some personal problems. She was a climber, a go-getter, he’d said, but he’d noticed her work had been suffering of late. He had to be able to depend on her and if he couldn’t, there were others in her department that he could.
And so ended her illustrious career on Wall Street.
Which was why she needed to get her butt in gear and figure out what in the hell she was going to do. She couldn’t stay here forever. She shivered despite the roaring fire. Judd had connections all over the country, hell, all over the world. And Judd always got what he wanted. He’d find her. She didn’t know how, but she couldn’t believe he’d just let things go.
And she’d been sitting here for a week with her head in the sand, pretending things would just fix themselves. Maybe she’d head back over to the neighboring town of Griffith again and look into hiring a private detective. If she had someone following Judd, at least she’d know if he was tracking her down. And maybe, just maybe, she’d get some indication that he’d given up and was moving on to possess and control someone else.
Shuddering, she knew she didn’t believe that. Judd would never give up, even if he had ten women on his arm. Duncan was right. It was about pride and honor, as twisted as Judd’s was.
It hit her hard that she truly might never go home again. And just where in the hell
was
home for her anymore? Madden County, North Carolina?
Well, hiring the detective would at least give her some peace of mind while she figured out where she’d go to start over. It was a plan. She felt immediately better.
She hurried up the ladder and pulled on a thick sweater. She dragged her purse out from under a pile of laundry, then swore when she realized she’d better take that to town with her. She laughed humorlessly. Another life adjustment for the woman who had been a slave to her dry cleaner.
Her gaze fell on the journal lying open on the bed. She might as well take it with her, something to read during the spin cycles. Though she was still disappointed that she hadn’t seen any mention of Duncan or Mairi, the MacKinnons made frequent appearances in Lachlan’s roaming stories. Lachlan had time and again referred to something he termed the “Legend MacKinnon,” but he tended to ramble and go off on tangents.
She scooped up the book and reread the last paragraph.
My digging has brought me yet another tragic story from The Legend MacKinnon. I see my theory might have some weight to it. I am none too happy to be proven right. Too much tragedy between our clans. So much so the tales surrounding them have spawned a legend. And I must wonder how long these tales have endured? How many generations does this legend touch? And what was the spark that began it? These are the questions I must answer if I am to find my peace
.
The mystery of this “legend” had definitely sparked her curiosity. She would corner Duncan this evening, one wayor another, and question him on what he might know about it.
Not that she was looking for excuses to talk to the man or anything.
She was halfway down the ladder when she heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine. She dropped her things and moved quickly to the front window, careful to stand to one side as a dusty black four-wheel-drive Jeep pulled up behind her car. There was
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