Tag: Messenger of the Gods

I am proud to share an excerpt from the first project in over a year

Thank you Covid induced burnout.

Messenger of the Gods

Excerpt

Warehouse Square Seattle

Rowan Cahill came up the stairs to see her neighbor fiddling with a set of keys while struggling to hang onto a paper bag overstuffed with cans and boxes.

“Here let me help with that.”  Setting her portfolio down she stepped forward and reached for the bag.

In more pain than he wanted to admit Jake McLachlan waved off the offer barely managing to avoid dropping his keys as he did so.

“Don’t be silly,” she replied and tried to get a better grip on the bag.

“Really,” he insisted, “I got this.”

“Stubborn pride.”

The words proved prophetic as a bottom weakened by heavy cans ripped sending cans rolling away from the doorway and boxes dropping in front of it.

Jake watched in irritation as several cans and other items rolled down the stairs and his keys disappeared beneath a pile of boxes.  With a sigh of the aggrieved he bent over intending to get the keys only to crack heads with his would-be Samaritan who was also reaching for them.

Rowan stumbled and would have fallen had her neighbor not reached out to steady her.  Unfortunately he overbalanced and ended up going head-first into the wall behind her.

Seeing stars from hitting his head twice in succession Jake blindly slapped at whoever was trying to – what he didn’t know.  What he did know was instincts honed by centuries of defending against one foe or another had him hitting out with more force than he would have had he been thinking clearly.  Blinding pain made that an impossibility.

All the air went out of Rowan’s lungs as her chest made hard contact with knees.  A cry of agony snapped her out of panic brought on by having the wind knocked out of her.

“Oh my God, do you need an ambulance?” she gasped scrambling to get off her would-be knight.  She felt awful that in trying to keep her from falling he was hurt.

“Would you please -?”

“Do you need an ambulance?” she repeated.

“I do not need an ambulance!” he snarled.

“At least let me get you some ice.”  Grateful to be breathing easy she dug for keys she saw disappear beneath a box of rigatoni and hurried to get the one that looked like it was a house key into the lock.

Jake considered how lucky the pretty red-head dashing into his home without his permission was that the throbbing in his leg kept him from being able to shout.  Before he could decide on next actions she was back with a dish towel he recognized.

“Where does it hurt?”

When her handsome neighbor closed his eyes and shook his head Rowan looked down hoping to get an idea.  Zeroing in on his right thigh she brushed his hand away and placed the dish towel filled with ice.  “I feel terrible.”

Jake supposed he should be grateful burning pain was robbing him of speech.  It kept him from admitting she had nothing to feel terrible about.  If he’d accepted her help at the outset none of this would have happened.  “Who are you?” he managed.

It took a minute for the words to process but Rowan looked into eyes of grey.  “I’m your new neighbor.”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh.  “I know that.  What’s your name?”

“How did you know?”

“What?”

She hoped keeping the guy talking would keep his mind off the pain.

“How did you know I was your new neighbor?”  She didn’t think he could know given she moved in while he was out of town – a different neighbor shared that tidbit – and she had been ever since.  Until getting in at midnight the night before that is.

“You have to be otherwise you couldn’t have gotten in.”  Not because of any key but because protective wards had been cast over the entirety of Warehouse Square, an area where four turn of the century warehouses wrapped around a beautiful small patch of lawn the city called a park.  For tax purposes of course.

“Oh, well I suppose that’s true.  How’s the ice?  Is it helping? Not too cold?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good,” she said then zipped down the stairs to retrieve cans and other goods strewn about.

“What are you doing?”

Jet-lagged more than she’d admit Rowan shot a derisive look over her shoulder.  “You’re kidding, right?”  Without another word she disappeared inside.

Not about to let a perfect stranger no matter how pretty put her energy in his kitchen Jake grit his teeth against the pain and pushed up the wall before hobbling into his loft.

Clare’s loft.

The thought came from nowhere, sent him staggering.

“You are not okay,” Rowan snapped and grabbing the closest chair tried to force her good-looking neighbor into it.

“I’m not a bairn damn it!” Jake howled after again cracking heads with his neighbor.

“For the love of God you prideful man sit your ass in that chair and be thankful someone cares about you!”

The throbbing in his thigh did the talking and Jake was soon watching his neighbor open cupboard after cupboard as she put his groceries away.  He could have told her where things should go but she was right he was being prideful.  May as well revel in it while he could because as the gods were his witness his damn chivalry was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later.