Page 2 of Scotch & Dreams

Lachlan reached out to steady her.

She swayed and grabbed onto his forearms. “Just a little dizzy, I guess.” She tried to smile, but her brows pinched together. He couldn’t tell if it was from pain or confusion, but it troubled him.

“Can I help ye get somewhere?” He asked, feeling a growing concern for the lass. She was already stepping back toward the beach with a hand to her head. He noticed her unsteady gate with each wobbly step. “Are ye sure ye should be walking? Maybe ye should sit for a minute or two?” He walked alongside her, wishing he knew how to help, his worry deepening as her balance faltered.

She abruptly stopped and looked at him, and this time, there was no doubt. Her expression was one of utter confusion. And in the next instant, she tumbled toward him. He caught her with ease, but his worst fears coursed through him.

“Lass? Hello?” Lachlan tried to get a response, but she was completely limp in his arms and didn’t make a sound. “Shite,” he bit out, feeling dread coil in his belly.

Without a thought, he scooped her up and carried her off the pier to the grassy reeds at the edge of the beach. He gently laid her down. She was breathing but still out cold. With shaking hands, he pulled out his mobile and called for help.

To his relief, she regained consciousness while he was on the phone. Hanging up with the emergency dispatcher, he focused his attention back to the lass. Not giving a thought to his Armani suit, he knelt in the grassy sand in front of her, and she moved to sit up.

“Easy, lass,” he said, gently helping her to sit.

She grasped her bare arms around her bent knees, and her mossy green eyes landed on his. He smiled lightly. The bewilderment he sensed in her broke his heart, but God, the way her eyes clung to him like he was a lighthouse in a storm. It shook him.

Chapter 3

Find a Friend

Violetawoketoanurse putting a blood pressure cuff on her arm. She felt groggy and tired. Her head throbbed. She eyed the dimly lit room and then promptly drifted back into a deep sleep.

When she next awoke, the morning light shone through the drawn-back curtains of the hospital room window. It felt like a slice of heaven streaking its warmth through the sterilization of the room. Violet let her eyes close again as she took a mental inventory of her situation.

A dull ache was still present in her head. Thoughts of the day before peppered her mind. She distinctly rememberednotremembering. It sent a chill down her spine.

“Oh my God.” Her eyes snapped open, her voice a barely audible whisper. Bursts of memory started to go off in her head like a succession of fireworks. In her mind’s eye, she could see her Airbnb. Sitting on the edge of the bed. The worn dark green carpet with the small gold diamond patterning. Putting on her blue runners. Going to the bathroom sink. The white tiles and the one with a chip to the left of the sink. Gulping down water.

Events of the day before were percolating in her mind. It was a slow trickle, one memory at a time, but indeed, she was remembering. Relief washed over her, and she couldn’t help but try and recall every detail of the day before.

“Good morning, Violet.” A clean-cut man with salt-and-pepper hair walked into the room.

Violet looked at him, and with surprisingly little effort, she remembered him.

“You’re the doctor,” she stated.

“Aye, Dr. Campbell. Yer memory is returning?” he asked, studying her from under bushy dark brows.

“Yes, it all seems to be coming back to me. Am I okay? I mean, will I be okay?”

“Aye, I’d say the prognosis is good.” He smiled reassuringly. “You hit your head rather hard, but fortunately, all the scans were normal.” He came over to stand beside the bed. “May I?” he asked before lifting her hair away from her forehead. He pressed gently but firmly around her bruised head.

Violet winced, feeling a stab.

“Ye have bruising that will likely get worse before it gets better, but I’m pleased that the swelling has already improved substantially. You’re very lucky,” he said, stepping back. “Any nausea?”

“No, just a bit of a headache.” She gestured to her bruised head.

“And you said your memories are coming back?”

“Yes, in a flurry. It’s so odd. It’s like they didn’t exist at all—but now they're coming back to me, ultra vivid.”

The doctor nodded as he scribbled some notes, presumably on her chart. “Ye’ve suffered a concussion and with it some post-traumatic amnesia.”

Violet’s eyes went wide.

“Nothin’ to worry about,” he assured her. “Ye are remembering now, and that is a very good sign. Ye should make a full recovery in no time.”

---