A Healer For The Highlander. Terri Brisbin
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He considered her offer seriously and for some time. She was almost on the point of giving in and moving to the village instead, but the touch of Davidh’s hand on her arm, something hidden from the view of most everyone there, forestalled her from doing that.
‘If it would serve you better to live out there, you have my permission to do so,’ The Cameron declared. ‘And my protection while you serve my clan here.’
‘My thanks, Laird.’
‘Davidh, come to me after you have seen to your son.’
She released a breath she had not known she’d held in and nodded. She curtsied then and watched as he stood and left the dais. Though others there turned their attentions away from the dais, Anna could feel their gazes upon her. They were curious about the woman just welcomed into their midst.
‘I brought what I think I will need, but I would like to see what you have been using.’
‘This way,’ he said, leading her back the way she’d entered.
‘Who was the man who brought me in?’
‘That was Struan, The Cameron’s steward.’
She stopped right then and there in surprise. The steward had been sent like a common servant to fetch her from the gate? The steward? The same man who’d stared at her with open dislike in his eyes was the steward and in charge of everything in The Cameron’s household here at Achnacarry.
‘You sent the laird’s steward to the gates?’
‘Aye,’ Davidh said. ‘Robert wished to continue the discussion and you needed to be admitted. Struan was the only one not needed in the hall just then.’
Men could be both practical and oblivious at the same time. Davidh had walked on and she rushed to catch up to his long-legged strides. They left the keep and the yard and walked back into the village. Now, people openly stared as she passed by them. Word would spread about her identity quickly, for that was how news raced through these small villages. Soon, everyone would know.
They turned down a path and she smelled the scent of hot metal and fire and knew the smithy was nearby. Soon, they walked by it and stopped at the large cottage next door.
‘This is your cottage?’ she asked, peering around him at the dwelling. ‘Is your wife within?’
Now, he stopped and turned to face her. His face had lost most of its colouring, making him appear gaunt and frightening. He took a step towards her and she fought not to shrink back away from him. He leaned down closer to her and spoke in a harsh whisper.
‘My wife died of fever a few years ago and I have raised him since.’
‘I...am...’ She could not speak the right words to him now.
‘I do not wish to discuss Mara before my son, so I pray you will not mention her within.’ His voice betrayed the emotions he must feel. She heard the loss and grief and yearning there and her own heart wanted to weep for his loss. ‘This...’ He paused then and cleared his throat making hers feel even tighter with the emotions she could see and hear within him. ‘This is where Jamie, the blacksmith...’ he nodded over her shoulder at the smithy ‘...and his wife Suisan live. She cares for Colm when I am on duty.’
‘I understand,’ she said softly.
He nodded, knocked on the door and then lifted the latch gently. She smiled at the efforts he took not to disturb those within. For all his strength and formidable size, he softened as he must for his ailing son.
The good thing about this cottage was that it was filled with light and fresh air. Often, those treating the sick closed the windows and built up the fire which allowed the smoke from the peat and wood being burned to fill the often cramped place. In her mother’s opinion, that did more harm than any possible good for most ailments and illnesses. Anna followed Davidh in, smiling at the anxious woman standing next to the pallet.
‘Suisan?’ she asked. At the woman’s nod, she introduced herself. ‘I am Anna Mackenzie.’
‘From the falls?’ the woman asked.
The damn rumours and stories always followed her and her mother before her. ‘Aye, from the falls.’
‘I am glad he sought ye out. The puir wee lad is not much better this morn than he has been these last days.’ Anna had learned early that suspicion was hard to fight and so this unexpected sense of welcome surprised her. ‘Let me show ye what the last healer gave us to treat him.’
‘I would see your son first,’ she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze.
Whether he’d known it or not, Davidh had placed himself between her and his son. The sense of protectiveness about his son pervaded his every action and deed and somehow that made her heart warm to him. It was something she’d never had in her life, so she always seemed to notice it elsewhere.
The chieftain’s commander eased his stance and stepped aside, allowing her closer to the small boy lying on the pallet. With his eyes closed, she could not tell if he slept or not. Kneeling down, she leaned in and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Not good. The rasping sounds and the shallow quickness of the breaths were not good.
A quick assessment of the colouring in his fingernails and lips told her more. His eyes fluttered and then opened when she laid the back of her hand on his forehead.
‘Good morn to you, Colm,’ she said softly. ‘How are you feeling this day?’
Anna leaned back and sat on her heels so that the boy could see those he knew behind her. Frightening him would make his condition worse. When he tried to sit up, she slid her arm behind him and used her other hand to guide him do so.
And then he began to cough.
The boy shuddered in her arms, his body trembling, and his chest rattled as his body fought against the racking coughs. She heard Davidh move behind her and Suisan walked closer, but she waved them off with a nod of her head. ‘Wait,’ she whispered.
‘He needs this.’ Davidh thrust a small bottle in front of her. ‘The healer said three to four drops when he begins.’
He’d already removed the stopper and she could smell the concoction within the bottle. Juice of the poppy. A strong blend from the smell of it.
‘Nay.’
She shifted on to her knees and brought the boy up to sit. With an arm in front of him, she eased him to lean against her and she placed her hand on his back, trying to feel the source of the cough. Anna had seen this before, as had her mother. Poppy was the last thing the boy needed.
‘This will quiet the cough, Anna,’ Davidh said, holding the bottle out again before her. ‘He is in pain.’
Davidh was in pain, that much was certain.