She floated in and out of consciousness, each time her senses tried to reach out and absorb sounds and smells. Nothing seemed familiar. No scent of pine, dirt, nor air laden with mist that carried with it the scent of ferns and flowers.

Where am I?

Her eyes felt so heavy she couldn’t force them open, no matter how hard she tried. Her body felt heavy as well, the lethargy that had overtaken her was so powerful that she couldn’t even pull through it.

She felt the texture of rough fabric on her cheek, the cloth carrying with it the scent of damp, musty earth and a vague hint of sweat and leather. Her memories were vague and fleeting, the images provoked by smells and sensations flashing through her mind, evoking confusion.

Then there was the pain. It seemed to come from everywhere in her body, not limited to any one particular muscle. Her head throbbed and every muscle in her body ached, so much so that when she did emerge from the depths of the blackness that enveloped her, she wanted to fall right back in, to escape.

She remembered being in the woods, being hurt, having difficulty breathing, the pounding of her head. She had tried to fight through it, to survive. How long she had been in the woods, or why, was a mystery.

Where was she? What were those sounds she heard? She tried to focus on them, and after several moments finally realized what they were.

Voices? Voices!

For some reason, the realization frightened her. But why?

She felt someone stroking her skin, no not someone, something. Fabric… a cloth laid on her forehead? It felt cool and soothing. Then, out of nowhere, heat burgeoned from within and she felt like she was burning up.

Where was the coolness?

She wanted the coolness back!

She couldn’t make sense of anything. She felt trapped in this darkness, semi-awake, but not conscious, at least not enough to understand anything going on around her. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? Why did she feel so weak? What had happened to her?

Once, she thought she heard the sound of gentle, women’s voices, but that confused hurt even more. What were women doing in the forest? She didn’t remember any women there with her. Just trying to figure that out was exhausting.

Every so often, she surged upward from that all-consuming blackness to hear distant voices, mostly female but on occasion a male voice broke through. Fear encompassed her then, prompting her to retreat back into the darkness that felt so safe. No pain, no worries, no fear. That darkness became her sanctuary, her defense, her safety from… from what?

She tried to think, to remember, but the darkness that continue to pull her deeper…

* * *

Voices again.

Propelling her up from the darkness though she wanted nothing more than to stay there. To float in that empty blackness, no pain, no fear… fear? Fear of what?

She heard the voice speaking as if from a great distance away. A woman’s voice, encouraging and gentle, yet consistent.

“Open your eyes. Come on, you can do it.”

That voice, so soothing, so comforting. She wanted to please that voice and struggled to force her eyes open. Why did they feel so heavy?

Try!

Finally, she managed to make her eyelids flutter, but along with that came more awareness… of pain. She wanted to go back into the darkness, but the voice kept encouraging. Her head throbbed and her chest hurt… hurt to even breathe.

“I knew you could do it.”

Her eyes were open, but her vision remained blurry. She blinked and tried to move, but found it impossible. Maybe this was enough for now. She blinked again.

Gradually, the figure above her began to come into focus.

A woman, smiling down at her. She felt the woman’s hand smooth the hair back from her forehead, and then placing something cool and refreshing on it. A cloth soaked in cool water. It felt wonderful.

She glanced past the woman and saw that she was in a room… a bedchamber. Without turning her head—it was too much effort—she saw the woman sitting in a chair beside the bed.

There was a small table nearby, rough-hewn walls and a closed door behind her. From the corner of her vision she noted the edges of a stone fireplace.

A coverlet was pulled up nearly to her chin. She felt warm, comfortably warm.

She looked up at the woman and tried to speak. Nothing came out but a raspy breath.

“You’re very weak, so don’t try to talk just yet. You’re safe here.”

For some reason, the words brought her a sense of comfort, but on the heels of that thought came another.

Why wouldn’t she be safe?

Her eyelids grew heavy, those moments of semi-wakefulness exhausting.

“You’re going to be all right,” the woman said. “You sleep. Rest. The next time you wake up, I’ll have some broth for you.”

* * *

When next she woke, the room was wreathed in semi-darkness. The undulating glow of a fire caused shadows and flickers to dance against the wall opposite the bed.

It was easier to open her eyes this time and she did so, simply looking around for several moments, trying to recognize something, anything, that would tell her where she was.

Nothing.

She stared up at to a ceiling, watching the shadows cast from the fire.

No sounds.

She was alone.

Gathering her strength, she turned her head, curious about her surroundings. She was in a bedchamber, still. The same one as before, but not one familiar to her.

She lay in a narrow bed against a wall, a small table and a chair filling the space between the edge of the bed and the opposite wall. A small bedchamber, but it was very warm. On the wall facing the base of the bed stood a small stone fireplace, the source of the heat and dull glow in the room. She lay quietly for several moments, realizing that her head didn’t throb quite so fiercely. She listened to the occasional crackle and pop of wood in the fire.

Where was she? What was she doing here? How had she hurt herself? She tried to remember what had happened but couldn’t. She tried to move, lift her arm from beneath the covers, but was too weak.

Moments later, she fell back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

She wasn’t sure what woke her, or how long she had slept, but the sound of soft footsteps on the wood floor brought her out of sleep. Startled, but not knowing why, she opened her eyes.

The room was filled with light.

Daytime.

She glanced toward the door just as a woman holding a bowl of something steaming tapped the door softly closed with her foot, and turned toward her.

She recognized the woman who had hovered over her earlier.

“You’re awake, that’s good,” the woman said.

She placed the steaming bowl on the table and sat down in the chair, leaning toward her while she reached out a hand to place it against her brow.

“Even better. Your fever has broken.”

Fever? I’d had a fever?

“You must be hungry. I have some broth. Will you take some?”

She tried to speak. “Where...?” The sound of her voice prompted a wince, so thick and raspy. Even the effort to speak was exhausting.

“You’re at Duncan manor,” the woman said. “My name is Sarah, Sarah Duncan. This is the laird’s house.”

“How…”

The woman—Sarah, smiled. “Maccay found you in the woods miles from nowhere. What were you doing in those woods? What is your name?”

She tried to answer and while her lips moved, no sound emerged.

She frowned. Her name? She was found in the woods? Her name… she couldn’t think, couldn’t remember. Her eyes widened with alarm. Her name… what was her name? Eyes wide, she felt her heart skip a beat. Why couldn’t she remember her name? “I… I can’t… I can’t remember,” she said.

Sarah offered an encouraging smile. “You took quite a bump on the head. Don’t worry yourself. You’ll remember soon enough. In the meantime, would you mind if I called you Alis?”

The name was not familiar but she supposed it would be all right. She offered a weak nod. Who was she? Why couldn’t she remember her name? Why couldn’t she remember where she’d been? She looked up at Sarah. “I… I don’t remember… anything…”

Sarah leaned to take the spoon in the bowl and stirred the liquid, releasing steam. “You don’t remember anything before waking up here, or you don’t remember anything before you were in the woods?”

She thought about that.

She remembered being in the woods, but not why nor how long. Before that… nothing. She frowned, but even that slight movement pulled at the muscles and skin of her forehead, and prompted a new burst of throbbing near her temple.

Sarah situated the bowl closer to the edge of the table and then leaned forward, gently lifting her head from the pillow and bracing it against her arm, she then reached for the spoon with her other hand, bringing it toward her lips, urging her to take some broth.

Her mind whirling with questions and emptiness, she sipped the liquid from the spoon. It was warm and tasted rich and fatty, but had a slightly bitter aftertaste. She glanced up at Sarah.

“I can tell by your grimace that you taste the herbs. They’re healing herbs, Alis, and they’ll help you get better. It’s a chicken broth with plenty of fat to give you strength.”

Good for physical healing perhaps, but would it help her remember? She doubted it.

She could only hope that with more rest and a day or two of healing that she could remember who she was, where she belonged, and most curious, what she had been doing out in the woods on Duncan lands. She didn’t know. She didn’t recall hearing the name before, but with her loss of memory, she couldn’t be sure.

However, if she did belong around here, or in any village near the laird’s property, surely Sarah would have recognized her.

She was able to take several more spoonfuls of the broth, and with each one, the taste of the herbs didn’t seem quite so strong. The warmth flowing down her throat and warming her belly invigorated her, but she was still too weak to even attempt to sit up on her own.

“That’s enough for now,” Sarah said. “I have to leave for a little while, but my sister will come check on you soon. You try to sleep.”

She nodded.

As Sarah rose and picked up the bowl and stepped to the door, she turned toward the window over her bed. The light seemed soft, as it did at dusk, but for all she knew, it could be early morning. She’d lost all track of time and place. Even as she tried to take in her surroundings, the thought uppermost in her thoughts was her confusion. Could a bump on the head really cause her to forget everything about who she was?

She heard voices just outside the door. A woman’s voice, probably Sarah’s, and then the voice of a man.

Without knowing why, the sound of the man’s voice made her want to cower under the covers, but why?

Her eyes riveted to the door, fighting the lethargy that urged her to fall back to sleep, she stared at the entrance, and then swallowed heavily when the door opened.

A man filled the doorway.

He was tall, with reddish-brown hair that reached his shoulders. He wore a dark green tunic under a long, open vest. His legs were long, encased in leather breeches and well-worn boots. Broad shoulders, narrow waisted, he was handsome.

Eyebrows the same color as his hair frowned over eyes that bore deep into hers. Well-sculpted features, a smattering of pale freckles high on his cheekbones. The sharp angle of his jaw hidden behind a stubble of beard, his mouth a narrow slash, lips slightly downturned. He continued to stand in the doorway, one hand resting on the head of an axe tucked into his belt. Vague recognition swept through her. Who was this man? Why did he seem so familiar to her?

He stepped into the room. Her eyes widened. She tried to burrow deeper into the covers.

“Sarah tells me that you seem to have lost your memory,” he said, stopping halfway between the door and the side of the bed, arms cross over his chest, legs hip width apart. Almost threatening. His head, now tilted at an angle, as if he studied something he could not describe. “You don’t remember what you were doing out in those woods?”

She offered a very slight shake of her head, knowing that any more than that would cause white flashes of pain throbbing anew. His eyes bore into hers. She wanted to disappear beneath that discerning gaze but had nowhere to go. She felt a myriad of emotions, she was afraid of him and not afraid at the same time. That didn’t make any sense. She felt as if he could see straight through her. What did he see? Did he know her?

“Those woods are quite a way from any villages and happen to be along the northern boundaries of Duncan lands.”

She didn’t respond. What could she say? It was growing obvious to her that the Duncans protected their lands and borders with fierce determination, but she could offer no explanation regarding her presence in those woods, Duncan lands or not.

He took a step closer. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes either bespoke a man with a great sense of humor and a man who laughed often, but then again, those lines could be caused from looking into the sun. He wasn’t laughing now. His eyebrows pulled down in a frown.

“I don’t recognize you. You’re not from around here.”

He wasn’t helping her feel any better about her lack of memory.

What had she been doing in the middle of those cursed woods and how had she gotten there?

He abruptly sat down in the chair and nudged it closer to the bed, peering down at her like she was examining a bug or something.

She frowned.

He was close enough now that she could see his eyes were hazel, though when the light struck them just so, she saw a hint of green, and unusual color to be sure.

“You sure you don’t remember anything?”

The tone of his voice conveyed his doubt.

She blinked.

Did he think she wanted to experience this memory loss? That it wasn’t frightening her beyond belief? Did he know what it felt like to wake up and not remember anything about what made her her?

If she had the energy, she would’ve given him a piece of her mind, but then she realized that energy was something she didn’t have at the moment. She felt the irritation, but bit back the sudden urge to snap a reply.

Was that the kind of person she was? Temperamental? Easy to anger? She had no idea.

He continued to stare at her, his gaze taking in every aspect of her head. Of course, buried under the covers as she was, he couldn’t see the rest of her. Just the thought of him looking at her body—she felt the heat of a flush rise in her cheeks. He noticed and frowned again, before pulling his gaze away from her cheeks and toward her hair.

This gave her pause.

What color was her hair or her eyes? She felt a tremor of panic bubble inside her.

Who was she?

She watched his gaze travel over her face, focusing on her eyes for a brief second, before moving down to look at her mouth, then back to her hair.

What was he doing? Why was he looking her like that?

“You tried to clobber me with a tree branch, do you remember that?”

What?

His comment startled her. She had attacked him? Why? Surely, she wasn’t so foolish to think she could win any battle with a seasoned warrior, and look like a warrior he did. The axe at his waist, the knife, the muscular hands and forearms… she stared into his face again, and saw the two-inch scar that traced the line of his jaw beneath his short whiskers. No, certainly she would not be so foolish as to attack a highlander… and a well-armed highlander at that.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

What else could she say? More confusion. She wanted to understand, but she had nothing to grasp onto. Not even a blur, a glimmer, nothing to hold onto. Just… blackness.

His glance passed over the length of her, buried under the covers, and then at the fire flickering in the fireplace, before looking back at her. “It looked like you had been out there at least a couple of days, maybe more.”

What was she supposed to say to that?

He slowly rose, still studying her in that odd way, lips pursed, as if trying to determine whether she was telling the truth or lying.

At this point, she didn’t much care what he believed. She didn’t know what she believed. There was nothing she could do, at least at the moment, to convince him that she was telling the truth—as she knew it.

Her eyes grew heavy.

He sighed, and rose from the chair, turned to leave the room, closing the door softly behind him.

She heaved a shaky, shallow sigh, all that she could manage without pain and closed her eyes, ready to sink back into that comforting blackness where fear, pain, and confusion didn’t exist.