Tate (Mountain Men 3)

“It’s like they’re written about us,” she said thoughtfully, taking another pull from her mug before continuing. She sighed. “Like they’re us but… better. Hotter. Superheroes. I mean there are four boys and two girls in the main family, the father and mother own the main house, and the others reside nearby. They don’t… look anything like us but isn’t that something that’s a quick fix? Like a disguise, almost…”

It’s difficult to ever accuse someone of basing a fictional story off of a real place and person… one can only conjecture. And the Cowen Clan does not operate with mere conjecture.

Then last year, something happened that put the Clan Chronicles book series back on our radar. My younger brother Mac found one of the housemaids with a notebook in her possession. Reams of notes, all referring to our lives here at the lodge. Our family. Our secrets, right there on the pages of a notebook.

He held Aisla, our maid, for questioning. But she escaped before we could ask her anything at all.

Someone helped her.

Who?

At the time, we had more pressing priorities. The mystery of Aisla, her notes, and her quick disappearance wasn’t the most important focus.

I walk over to Leith when he beckons, careful not to make any noise and startle Fran out of sleep.

“Yeah?” I whisper.

“She alright?” he asks, looking over at Fran’s sleeping form. I look where he does, frowning, and shake my head.

“Not really,” I whisper. “Got a bad fucking head injury. She’ll have to be monitored. When we go into town tomorrow, she'll need a proper scan and testing. Couldn't take her tonight, nothing will be open. But the doctor says she needs to be tested thoroughly. Could have some serious head damage." She was awfully wobbly on her feet, and definitely a little foggy-headed.

“We?” he asks.

I shrug. “I have to go into town anyway to do the research I need to.”

He scowls at her. “She’s got bloody awful timing, doesn’t she?”

“Och, aye, agreed,” I say, frowning at her right along with him. “She does.”

“I need you on the fuckin’ job,” he says. “Can you bring her into town and still do what I asked?”

“Of course. You know I’m good for it.”

He grins. “Y’are.”

He’s given me specific instructions for finding more of what we need, where to go, who to ask. But for now, he’s got more news.

“Something you should know, though.”

“What’s that?”

He scowls some more. “Cairstina read the book.”

“Already? Thought it just came out tonight?”

“Aye, she’s a fast reader.” Again, he scowls.

“And?”

He blows out a breath, then gives me a sheepish smile, as if he’s about to tell me something outlandish and he’s afraid I won’t believe him.

“She says the mystery of our identity” —he shakes his head and rolls his eyes, muttering— “I got right sucked into this, didn’t I? She says the mystery of the Clan identity is revealed in book eight. And guess what?”

“What?”

He scowls. “Book eight reveals how the youngest brother married the daughter of their enemy. They formed an alliance, so the two Clans could no longer war with each other.”

My brother Mac married the daughter of our enemy last year. Bryn Aitkens, now Bryn Cowen.

Leith scowls. “But in book eight, it all comes to a head.”

“How?”

He scowls again. “The enemy kidnaps the sister of the Captain.”

“It’s fiction,” I say, but my voice is choked, my heart beating too rapidly.

“Aye,” Leith says. “But obviously the writer of these books knows something, doesn’t she?”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

He gives me a sharp look. “Do men write those kinds of books?”

“Of course.”

He’s silent for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to him before that it could be a man.

“We’ve looked into the publisher before,” I say, more of a statement than a question, but I’m asking him.

“Of course. But she uses a pen name. No way of tracking the writer down.”

“Totally anonymous?”

“Totally.”

I work my jaw, thinking things over. “They must be able to find her real name. How else would they pay her?”

“Not sure about that. Worth looking into.”

“Did Cairstina have concerns?”

“Aye,” he says soberly. “Every detail about Bryn’s wedding to Mac—the how, the why. It’s all in the book. If another rival Clan put two and two together…” His voice trails off.

“Aye.”

“It isn’t just that.” We both look behind us, and Leith’s wife Cairstina stands just a few paces away. “It’s more than that.” She worries her lip, her eyes troubled.

“What is it, then?” he asks.

She sighs. “In this book, Clan secrets are revealed.”

“Like what?” I ask her.

“Like the fact that the Clan has connections in Paris…” Her voice trails off and she gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Looks like it could just be fiction, and I can’t even read much into it myself, because I don’t know everything there is to know. But these books are available to the general public. If anyone ever thought they were actually… actually us…”