Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
“What are ye doin’ that for?” A young woman by the name of Dara peered over Adeline’s shoulder as Adeline sprinkled some salt into the brew of feverfew and willow bark that she had made.
Adeline set the brew on a pile of freshly fetched snow to cool it faster. “Salt helps restore the body when it’s sick,” she explained. “Just a little bit, or it’ll draw out all the moisture instead.”
“And why are we suddenly boilin’ all of our water?” Dara eyed the tonic, leaning down to sniff it. “Ugh, I hope I daenae catch the curse, ‘cause I’m nae drinkin’ that. It smells vile.”
“It tastes vile, too, but most medicine tends to taste foul,” Adeline replied, laughing. “That’s how you know it’s doing you some good. That’s what my mother used to say, anyway, when I wouldn’t take my medicine.”
Dara slipped on the floor and hugged her knees, peering at Adeline. “Is all this really goin’ to save me sisters?”
“I hope so.”
Dara nodded. “Ye cannae promise it, though?”
“I don’t think anyone can promise that someone will pull through a sickness,” Adeline replied. “It’s mostly in the hands of…” She pointed upward.
She remembered the constant internal conflict she had to go through at the hospital, not to promise a patient that they were going to make it. Even if the signs were good and the surgery had gone really well, it was downright stupid to make promises about life and death. Certainly not to any family members who’d end up suing if their loved one did die.
Dara glanced across at her three slumbering sisters, who’d all had their lukewarm baths, taken their first dose of tonic, had good airflow and not too many blankets, and were being tended to with a constant carousel of cold compresses on their brows. It was still too early to tell if any of the remedies had worked, but no one had died, and that was always a promising sign in Adeline’s book.
“Should I be prayin’ for them?” Dara asked. “I never ken what to say when I’m prayin’. When we go to the church on Sundays, and they tell us to pray, I clasp me hands, and… me mind just ceases thinkin’ anythin’. I daenae think God listens to me, truth be told.”
Adeline reached over and took hold of her hand. “Pretend you’re speaking to a friend instead,” she said. “Imagine the friend and tell them what you’re thinking. Say what it is you want to stay to them, like a prayer, and don’t worry too much about communing with the Almighty. He hears more than you think.”
She had always had a fractious relationship with religion herself, especially after her parents were taken away, but there was no denying the comfort that it brought to people. And, now and then, she liked to think she had seen a miracle or two at the hospital.
“Speakin’ to a friend?” Dara considered the suggestion. “Could I speak to one of me sisters instead?”
Adeline smiled. “Whatever is easiest for you. A prayer is just something you want to happen or don’t want to happen—the heavens listen, no matter who you’re saying it to. And I’d say sisterhood is as holy as anything else.”
“I’ll do me best,” Dara said, giving Adeline’s hand a squeeze. “Ye ken, I think ye’re very brave, Miss Adeline.”
“You do?” Adeline checked the temperature of the bowl of tonic, but it was still too hot. “Why is that?”
Dara sighed. “Me ma always told us that we could do anythin’ we put our minds to, but me ma wasn’t like a lot of the people here. They daenae like lasses like ye, who come in and start givin’ orders, even if it’s for their own good. That’s why they’ve been callin’ ye a witch and all sorts of things.” She shrugged. “So, I think ye’re brave for nae carin’. I havenae seen ye flinch once.”
“I keep my flinching on the inside,” Adeline quipped, feeling a fresh pinch in her insides.
Dara laughed. “Well, I hope ye prove ‘em wrong. I hope everyone becomes well again, nae just ‘cause I want me sisters to be well, but so ye can wipe the smirks off the faces of the skeptics.” She hesitated, frowning. “Although, if everyone lives, they might call ye a witch twice as hard. I daenae ken.”
“I’m aware of that,” Adeline admitted. “But I’m not going to let fear stop me from helping people. I never have. If they want to call me a witch, I’ve got lists of diagrams and information I can give them to prove, without doubt, that I’m just a humble healer. Everything I do can be explained. It’s not sorcery, it’s just medicine.”
Dara gazed at her sisters. “It’s nae sorcery, it’s just medicine. I like that. Gives me hope.”
From outside the one-room stone cottage—a “bothy,” as she’d recently learned—Adeline heard her name being shouted in the village streets. It seemed that the time for getting to know her patients was over.
Ironically, it was the same in her own world—there was never enough time to speak to the patients, to learn more about their lives, and what they’d be going back to when they got better.
“Well, keep doing as I’ve told you, and hopefully”—Adeline crossed her fingers—“everything will work out the way I want it to. It’s not always the case, but… I might say a prayer or two myself.”
Dara got up to walk Adeline to the door, though it couldn’t have been more than five paces from where they’d been sitting. “Thank ye,” she said as Adeline stepped out. “Thank ye for puttin’ me mind at ease.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” Adeline replied.
She turned to look for Logan, recognizing his voice immediately, but before she could reach him, Dara grabbed her back.
“Can I ask one thing before ye go?”
“Of course.”
Dara’s gaze flitted up and down the darkened street. “Are ye really a guest of the Laird, or… are ye somethin’ else?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Adeline’s insides twisted in knots. Had she been caught out already?
Dara smiled. “I’m nae sayin’ ye’re nae a healer. I’ve seen yer work. Clearly, ye are, but… I wondered if ye were a healer and somethin’ more to the Laird? I might be pryin’ and me sisters are always tellin’ me off for puttin’ me nose where it doesnae belong, but… I couldnae help noticin’ a bit of somethin’ between ye.”
“I’m just a guest,” Adeline replied, a beat too quickly. “I was invited from Wales. I don’t know where he heard about me, but I was summoned, and I came. That’s all there is to it.”
Dara seemed disappointed. “Och, well, serves me right for askin’, I suppose. I hope I dinnae offend ye?”
“Not at all.” Adeline allowed herself a smile as Logan shouted for her once more. “I mean, who wouldn’t be flattered by an observation like that? It’s not true, but it’s not offensive in the slightest.”
Dara brightened, hiding a giggle behind her hand. “For what it’s worth, I wouldnae mind havin’ ye as Lady Gibson. Heaven kens he needs himself a wife. Nay one can rest easy ‘til he’s married.”
“Why is that?” Adeline looked down the street, making sure Logan wasn’t too close.
Dara leaned in closer. “Without an heir, bein’ a laird is a dangerous position to be in, and with that brother of his—all I’ll say is, I wouldnae be surprised if the Laird has an accident one of these days. And when he does, we’ll all ken it wasnae any accident.”
Before Adeline could press Dara for more information about this mysterious brother she kept hearing about, Logan appeared from one of the narrow alleyways that cut between the cramped houses. He spotted Adeline instantly, making a beeline for her.
“Have ye been washin’ so many sickly souls that ye got water in yer ears?” he said abruptly. “I’ve been callin’ for ye for an age.”
Adeline put on a sweet smile. “Were you? I didn’t hear anything.”
Behind her, Dara stifled a sharp snort.
“What were ye doin’, eh? Indulgin’ in whispers with the local gossips?” Logan dipped his head to Dara. “I see ye’re up to the same mischief as always, Miss Aitken. I’ll be sayin’ a prayer for yer sisters, though they’ll be glad of the rest after raisin’ ye all these years.”
Adeline was about to tell him off for being rude when she heard Dara chuckle.
“I’m nae the hellion I once was, m'laird,” Dara insisted. “I’m almost a proper lady these days.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “So, ye werenae caught robbin’ the last of the apples from Arthur Allan’s orchard a month back?”
“That nay good, lyin’ sack of weasels said I could have ‘em,” Dara huffed, “and now he’s goin’ around, tellin’ everyone that I stole ‘em because I refused his marriage proposal. I tell ye, lads get so bitter when ye daenae give ‘em what they want. But if I’d kenned them apples came with such a price, I wouldnae have taken even one.”
Logan laughed. “I ken, I heard the real story from yer brother, but I couldnae resist seein’ what ye’d call Arthur Allan this time. I believe it was a ‘week-old trout left out in the sun’ last time.”
“Ye best be careful around this one,” Dara warned, nudging Adeline in the arm. “He pretends he doesnae have any humor about him, but he’ll tease ye rotten before ye realize it.”
Adeline frowned at the younger woman. “You didn’t mention a brother. Does no one mention their brothers around here?”
“Och, I thought ye kenned!” Dara pointed down the street to where Logan’s uncle and his man-at-arms were standing with the horses. “Theo is me brother. I wasnae hidin’ it. I swear, I thought ye already kenned, since he’s always complainin’ to everyone about me.”
Logan offered his hand to Adeline. “Aye, Dara, and for good reason.”
“Miss Adeline, daenae believe a word he says about me. Only half of it is true,” Dara urged, grinning. “Now, if ye daenae mind, I’ve got some of that nasty brew to give to me sisters, and ye’ll notice that it’s nae Theo who’s tendin’ to them. I’m surprised he hasnae pretended to have this sickness, so he doesnae have to do anythin’.”
When Adeline didn’t take Logan’s proffered hand, he put his hand on the small of her back, steering her away from Dara’s doorway. “A pleasure as always, Dara,” he called over his shoulder, shepherding Adeline toward the horses.
“I see how it is,” Adeline said as they walked away, a sharp jab of jealousy catching her under the ribs.
Logan glanced down at her. “Ye see how what is?”
“You must flirt with a lot of women. I mean, I can see why—you’ve probably got your pick of the island and beyond, right?” She heard the coldness in her tone and felt utterly stupid.
What did she have to be jealous over? It wasn’t like she had any claim to Logan, nor did he have any claim to her. They just happened to be in the same era at the same time, and they’d part ways soon enough. Sure, she’d have a tough time forgetting a face as handsome as his and having the best kiss of her life because of him, but he wasn’t real. Not really real. In her world, he was just a name in the history books, long gone.
Logan halted, spinning her around to face him. “If ye’re insinuatin’ what I think ye are, then daenae. Dara is like another sister to me. All of the Aitken sisters are. I’ve kenned them since I was a bairn because of Theo.”
“I wasn’t insinuating anything.” Adeline feigned ignorance. “I’m tired, I’m dirty, I’m covered in goodness knows what, I’m so hungry that I could eat a whole goat, and I’m grumpy. That’s all.”
Logan frowned at her. “Aye, well, I’ve got bad news for ye.”
“ More bad news?”
The ghost of a smile lifted one corner of his lips. “We cannae return to the keep tonight. I need to be near me brother, else me maither will insist on comin’ out here, and I daenae want her gettin’ sick.” He nodded up the street. “Dallas and Theo are goin’ to ride back to keep me maither informed.”
“And why can’t I ride back with one of them?” Adeline challenged, thinking of how blissful those hot pools would be right about now.
“Because I cannae let ye out of me sight,” he replied simply, though something glinted in eyes. Not quite mischief, but close to it. “I trust ‘em both, but ye heard the whispers that were circulatin’—I wouldnae want anythin’ happenin’ to any of ye on the road back to the keep. I daenae want to be worryin’ over ye and me brother all night. Moreover, ye’ll be where ye need to be come mornin’, instead of ridin’ all the way back. So, ye’re to stay with me.”
Adeline folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t fault your logic, but I’ll only stay on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
She nodded down at herself. “You find me somewhere with a bath. A hot one. And something delicious to eat.”
“I already have it arranged,” he told her, his hand falling to the small of her back once more.
In the twenty-six years she’d been alive, she’d never let any man get away with putting their hand there without her say-so. But with Logan, it didn’t feel seedy—it felt protective. A tingle ran up her spine, and though she knew she shouldn’t be letting him touch her at all, considering their recent history, she allowed him to guide her to wherever they were going.
It turned out to be a small inn that overlooked the sea, so quaint that it didn’t look real to Adeline. Hazy candlelight spilled out into the darkness, welcoming them in from the cold.
They were greeted by the innkeeper and his wife.
“We’ve got the bath drawn,” the wife said, taking hold of Adeline’s hand. “It’s the least we could do after everythin’ ye’ve done for us today. Me wee bairn is already cooler.”
Adeline brightened. “He is? Can I see him?”
“In the mornin’,” Logan interjected. “The poor lad will be sleepin’. He doesnae need ye pokin’ at him.”
The innkeeper’s wife chuckled. “Aye, he is sleepin’, but if ye’d see him in the mornin’, I would be soothed by that.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Adeline promised. “Now, how about this bath? I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to one more.”
The innkeeper gestured up a rickety staircase. “The chamber is up there. I’d show ye to it, but the landin’ is awfully narrow, and we’d be squeezin’ past each other, so I’ll let ye make yer own way.”
“Thank ye.” Logan ushered Adeline away from the warmth of the inn’s lower floor, where a few customers were nursing drinks and digging into a hearty-looking stew.
Adeline’s mouth watered as she looked back longingly, but the staircase was narrow, and Logan had pushed her ahead of him. She couldn’t hope to slip past him, back to whatever stew and bread she could get her hands on.
But as she reached the landing and saw just one door ahead of her, she forgot all about the stew and turned around to face Logan. “Where’s the other one?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m guessing my room is behind that door, so where’s your room? The other room?”
He frowned as if confused by the question, but there was that glint in his eyes again as he replied softly, “There isnae one.”