A Laird and a Healer (Rebel Highland Brides #2)

Chapter 4

T ara awoke with the dawn. She flung the blankets off her and rose from the bed. There was no confusion about her surroundings. She could not fail to remember that she had been taken captive, and that she was no longer in the safety of her Keep. Fear lined her mind and sharpened her focus.

She finished off a bit of cheese that she had left last night. She had risen earlier than when breakfast was served. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she pushed the feeling aside for the time being. Her door was unlocked, and she was grateful that Gordon had at least given her this small freedom. It would have been frustrating and humiliating to have to wait to be let out, like a dog.

She glanced up and down the hallway. It was barren. The silence made everything seemed colder. There was no sense in running. Undoubtedly, someone would see her making her escape, and Gordon would chase after her, bringing her back here with even more reason to be cruel. Besides, she had given him her word that she would stay of her own free will. She was not about to make herself a liar. She hoped that her sisters would not view her as a coward for her lack of resistance, if they should ever learn what happened.

Tara gently opened the door to Keith’s room. The boy was still unconscious. There was nobody else in the room, but it was haunted by Gordon’s presence. She could picture him sitting beside Keith, hands clasped together, tears pouring out of his sleepless eyes. It was as though the sorrow seeped into the walls of the keep, dousing everything in misery. She could almost taste the sadness in the air. It was bitter.

Keith’s limbs were thin, and his chest was hollow. By the look of him, he had been bedridden for some time, given that his muscles had atrophied. He should have been running outside, learning to ride horses and climb trees and swim in wide rivers. Instead, his life was wasting away here. His breaths were shallow, and there were moments when his head twisted from side to side and his body curled up, clenching in pain.

These were the moments that were hardest for her, wishing that she could take his pain away. First of all, she needed to know what caused his condition. Was it poisoning from something he ate, an inherited condition, or an illness that had transformed into something malevolent? Gordon hadn’t mentioned anyone else being ill, so she doubted there was some plague ravaging the Abernathy Clan, although given that he had been so tight-lipped with her, she could not take anything for granted.

“What is wrong with ye, Keith? I wish ye could talk. Perhaps ye would be more open than yer Da. Hae ye eaten something ye should nae hae? Or did ye swim in a river that was far tae cold and catch a deathly chill?”

There were too many questions and not enough answers. She thought back to her training and the advice that Elaine had given her. When faced with an illness, sometimes the only thing to do was experiment. When faced with a wide spectrum of possibilities, healing became a task of eliminating various things until there was only one incontrovertible truth left, and then work could begin on making a cure.

But there were some gentle medicines that Tara could blend in the hope that they would have some effect, if only to stabilize Keith’s condition and bring him back into the waking world. However, in order to do that, she needed a few supplies.

She left his bedside and opened the door, only to find a brutish guard standing outside the door to her room with a tray of food. When he sensed her movement, he turned and glared at her.

“Ye should nae hae left yer room,” he growled.

“I hae been tasked with tending tae the Laird’s son. That’s exactly what I was daring. If ye hae any problem with that, then I suggest ye take it up with the Laird.”

The guard was rankled by her words and curled his lip. “This is ye breakfast,” he thrust the tray towards her. It contained a bowl of thick porridge, on the lumpy side.

“Take it inside, please,” she said. The guard huffed and carried it into Keith’s room before exiting again. He turned on his heels, but Tara wasn’t finished with him. “There are few things I require. Since I am forbidden from leaving the Keep I need ye tae fetch some herbs for me,” she said, and then listed them. “Och, and I need some hot water as well.”

The guard rolled his eyes. “I am nae errand lad.”

“I require these things tae treat the lad. Are ye getting in the way of my work? Are ye refusing tae help Laird Abernathy’s son?” she thundered, hoping that the fear of the Laird’s wrath would inspire some motivation. It was difficult to accomplish everything when there were so many barriers placed in her way.

“Ye should find someone else tae dae yer errands. The Laird said ye hae everything ye need here.”

“The Laird is nae healer. I am.”

“Then take it up with him. I hae orders tae follow,” he said, and turned his back on her without a second thought. He strode down the hall.

Tara was incensed. She chased after him and, without any thought for her own safety, she grabbed the guard’s arm and spun him around to face her. She jabbed a finger in the air and glared at him.

“My freedom depends on healing that boy, and I am nae gaeing tae hae ye jeopardize that.”

Suddenly, all of her courage vanished as the guard glared at her. His eyes were vicious, and his mouth was curt. Being so forward did not come as easily to Tara as it did to someone like Nessa, and she wasn’t used to the tides of emotions that surged through her like rolling waves.

The first flurry of bravery gave way to doubt and anxiety, as thought she was a rabbit that had dared to rush up to the fox and thump as a way to air its grievances, only to cower when the fox turned and glared with beady, hungry eyes.

The guard bristled with anger, and Tara was quickly reminded that she was a prisoner in this keep, and there were no sympathies given to her. The Abernathy clan had never been known for its kindness, and their reputation was well-earned. The people of the clan were like thorns, and they did not make any attempt to hide their prickly nature.

“And my life depends on obeying the laird, and I am nae gaeing tae jeopardize that , sae until I hear differently, ye will stay in yer room and focus on healing the boy.”

Tara was about ready to explode with frustration. “But I cannae heal him if I dinnae hae the supplies I need!” The words came out as a shriek, buoyed by the winds of her anger. They echoed along the corridor, and for a moment, she felt ashamed for causing such a commotion.

With two older sisters, Tara had been the retiring type, blending into the background as people paid more attention to Caroline, who was the eldest, and Nessa, who was the loudest. However, when she had been learning to heal, she had been taught the value of being vocal.

While treating the soldiers after the battle, Tara had needed some bandages for a soldier who was in pain. Everything was busy and people were rushing around. It was all confusing and Tara became lost in the blitz. She mumbled an “excuse me” and whispered a “dae ye mind,” while her patients’ wound wept, and he moaned in distress. It wasn’t long before Tara steeled herself and cast aside her decorum and manners, and shouted at the top of her lungs. This drew people’s attention and the bandage was passed to her, and she had been able to treat her patient.

Sometimes, in the line of her duty, it was necessary to make demands, even if it went against her nature. It was still something she struggled with, but she hoped that one day it would come naturally to her.

Of course, it was different when faced with a snarling guard who could have done any manner of cruel things to her. The fact that he might have been punished by Laird Abernathy was incidental, as it would come too late for her to escape this fate.

“Dinnae dare tae speak tae me like that, lass. The Laird hae brought ye here for a task, and ye are gaeing tae carry out that task whether ye like it or nae,” the guard growled.

Tara could have screamed. She couldn’t seem to make it clear to him that it was impossible to make any progress without him doing as she asked. She wondered if the clan had any experience with healers at all because it seemed as though this guard in particular had tunnel vision and was unable to see anything beyond his orders.

Color flushed in her cheeks and she trembled with frustration. All she wanted to do was help Keith, but she was being stopped by this guard. Somehow she had a feeling that Laird Abernathy would not believe her if she attributed her slow progress to the unhelpfulness of his clansmen.

More angry words surged like lava in her throat, burning her from the inside out. Her hands formed tight balls, and she rocked back on her heels. A prickling heat washed all over her, but what she didn’t realize was that her prior scream had rolled all the way through the halls of this quiet Keep, breaking the dour mood that settled upon the clan.

And it had drawn the attention of the Laird.

From beyond the guard’s shoulder, Tara saw Gordon approach, the great hulking mass of him, clad in his black pelt, his haunted eyes staring behind straggling locks of hair. His shadowed face was drawn. As she looked into his eyes, it seemed impossible that they had shed tears the previous night, yet she had heard him.

“What’s happenin’ here?” he rasped.

Suddenly, the guard’s demeanor changed. He stood to attention and spun away from Tara. The scowl disappeared from his face and his words became quicker and lighter.

“I was just trying tae get our guest tae follow yer orders, sir.”

“He was stopping me from helping yer son,” Tara accused him haughtily, taking slight satisfaction in the way the guard squirmed.

Gordon’s baleful gaze fell upon the guard, and it seemed as though he shrank before Tara’s eyes.

“Is this true?” Gordon asked, his voice dropping low. His words were as cold as the winter wind.

“I was just daeing as ye asked. I was… ah… ye see…” he stumbled, losing the path of his thoughts under the power of Laird Abernathy.

When Gordon spoke, his voice was still quiet. It was all the more menacing because of this. Even though he wasn’t speaking to Tara, she still felt a shiver of fear.

“She is here tae heal my son. Whatever she needs, ye will give it tae her,” he demanded, and then looked towards Tara expectantly. She cleared her throat and repeated her request.

“Did ye hear that, or dae ye need it repeated?” Gordon asked, turning his attention back to the guard. He shook his head.

“I’ll get on that right away, sir,” he mumbled as he strode away quickly, which Tara assumed was to ensure that he did not suffer from Gordon’s anger any more than he already had. Gordon shifted his huge body and stepped towards her, filling her vision.

“Hae ye made any progress? Dae ye know what’s wrong with him yet?”

“Unfortunately, I dinnae. It could be a number of things. I hae tae try tae find out what could hae caused it. Again, it would be helpful if I were tae learn the kind of things he hae been eating and daeing before he fell ill.”

“He was daeing all the things boys should be daeing,” Gordon said, his voice turning wistful for a moment.

Tara was struck by the humanity in his words, and he became less her captor and more a grieving father. But he was still being too vague for her liking, and she did not understand why. He claimed to want to do anything he could to save his son, but apparently answering her questions was too much to ask.

“Perhaps if I spoke tae the boy’s mother, she might be able tae enlighten me,” Tara ventured, still intensely curious about Keith’s mother.

Was she free to move about the keep as Gordon’s equal, or had he trapped some unwilling woman into marriage and kept her as more a prisoner than a wife? He stiffened with tension when she asked, and a glassy veil descended over his eyes.

“That will nae be possible.”

Tara furrowed her brow. “Why nae? It would help me?—”

“Because I said sae!” he thundered, exhaling deeply after the words had leapt from his throat.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. Tara braced herself against the raging words. She certainly hadn’t expected him to react like that. But this wasn’t helping at all.

“I cannae heal yer son properly if I dinnae know exactly what happened prior tae him getting ill.”

“Ye know all ye need tae know.”

“Hae anyone else examined him? Where are the healers of yer clan? Why did ye need me?”

He curled his lip, clearly getting tired of her questions, but this one at least he was willing to answer. “They all examined him, and they all failed tae heal him. Sae I banished them. I will nae tolerate anyone failing me,” he bared his teeth as he spoke, making the threat plain.

Tara’s blood ran cold. She swallowed, trying to remove a lump from her throat, but it remained.

“I believe ye hae work tae dae. Stop wasting yer time out here and get back tae my son,” he said, turning away from her. But there was one thing Tara wanted to mention before he left.

“I’ve heard ye last night. I know ye are lashing out at me because ye are afraid. It’s nae gaeing tae help anything.”

He tilted his head to the side, peering at her over his shoulder. “I dinnae know what ye are talking about. I dinnae get scared,” he spoke with authority, but Tara knew it was a lie.

There was not a father alive who would not be afraid of their child falling ill, and even the most hard-hearted man would shed a tear because of it. Gordon might well have been a fearsome man, but he was reluctant to show his emotions. Some men were afraid of feeling things too intensely, but they were definitely there. She could sense the elemental storm within him, and something about it touched her heart.

He seemed so lonely, bearing the weight of all this by himself. She wanted to run after him and tell him that there were other ways to handle his emotions, that he could share them with her if he wanted. Instead, he denied that he was even capable of feeling them, burying them deep in the pits of his heart.

She had only seen a small portion of his world. What of his wife? Did he have nobody to comfort him at night? Did he have nobody in whom to confide? With all the healers banished, he must have truly been desperate, and a desperate man was capable of anything. He was already half-broken by this, and she feared what might happen if Keith died.

She could imagine Gordon crumbling and turning to ash, or being consumed by rage and thrashing around, smashing this keep until it was a keep no more. It was a perilous and precarious situation indeed, and Tara was right in the heart of it. She had the balance of the clan in the palm of her hands, as well as the soul of Laird Abernathy. She was the only one who could save his son and, equally, she was the one who would pay the price if she failed to heal Keith.

Somehow, she realized that she would be lucky to only suffer banishment. While the other healers had failed to cure Keith, at least he was still alive. With the way he looked, Tara wasn’t sure he had much time left. People could only suffer so long before the body gave out, and once he was gone, there was no bringing him back. She dreaded to think about what might happen if that was the case.

She returned to her room, forcing herself to eat even though she felt sick. She waited and waited until the guard returned. He begrudgingly gave her the supplies she asked for, muttering under his breath as he marched down the hall.

Tara returned to Keith and began mixing medicines. She wiped down his sweaty forehead again and looked with pity at this small version of the Laird, a boy who was suffering without realizing what effect his condition was having on those around him. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, even though his eyes were closed.

“It’s all gaeing tae be well, Keith. I will find out what’s wrong with ye,” she whispered, more for herself than him. She only hoped it was a promise that she would be able to keep.