A Healer for the Ruthless Highlander

Chapter 1

“Ye have nothing to fear. The child will live,” Leana promised.

The woman beside her sighed in relief. Eyes brimming with tears, she reached for Leana and began to say over and over, “Thank ye, thank ye! May ye have all the blessings in the world.”

Her being so emotional was understandable, for her son, only five years old, had been on the verge of death from a contagious disease that was sweeping through the villages—which was why Leana was so far from home.

“No need to thank me. It’s just what a healer does after all,” Leana replied, smiling at her.

It was rare for her to smile like that, so warmly. Strange, because her rather strong and hot temperament made her frown most of the time. But on the occasions when she was engrossed in her work or her family, her expression would shift, like it did now.

Now, her face softened, and for a few moments, she could be happy with herself and what she did here today.

Even weariness was erased from her expression, though she had not slept for several hours.

The night before, the villagers had desperately called for her after the boy’s fever had risen.

Since then, she had done nothing but look after him, not sleeping a wink all night for fear that his fever would get worse.

Fortunately, that had not happened.

And so, it was not long before she left the farmers’ humble abode—after accepting a meager breakfast of brown bread and potato soup, as payment for her services.

She knew these people had little more to offer, and she would not accept their hard-earned savings when she had only done the right thing by answering their call.

No. It was always best to help to the best of her ability, as her father had taught her, and that kindness would be returned to her in another way, at another time.

Her sisters had always told her that she was as noble as she was stubborn—which was saying a lot. The remark had always amused her, for she knew that even when her sisters joked about it, they meant it with affection.

In fact, she thought of them as she said goodbye to the farmers, looking at the couple’s three daughters and longing for her own family. Far away at home, her father and sisters would be waiting to hear from her.

Her return journey had taken longer than she had expected, but she didn’t mind.

It filled her with pride, in a way, to have been able to help not just the boy, but so many people before him. This disease had really been spreading too much, too fast.

As she pulled up her leafy green hood over her jet-black hair and walked toward the forest, she thought of how much she enjoyed her work. A smile spread across her deep rose lips, and she knew the small dimples must have appeared on her cheeks. They always did, when she smiled.

As she walked, the woman who had accompanied her through the village caught up with her. Calling this girl, who was only a year or two older than her, a woman made her feel a little uncomfortable, as if she were too old for her twenty-three years.

But it was true that the charismatic redhead’s bulging belly gave her a certain air of womanhood that Leana did not possess, despite the youth still imprinted on her lightly tanned skin.

“It was fortunate that ye were able to answer our call. These people would have died without ye,” Jane sighed, leading the way.

Leana nodded. “I’d like to say ye’re exaggeratin’, but I’m afraid ye’re nae. The fever has run through the pastures like a summer fire. I’m afraid it will get worse if I daenae do something soon.”

“Ye will do something about it. Though I’m sure the worst is over.”

“I hope so,” Leana muttered. “I’ve seen and treated many cases with me faither over the past few months, and while I think we’ve got the disease under control, I’m afraid it will get worse with the onset of winter.”

As they spoke, they moved deeper into the forest, leaving behind them the fields lit by that empty light, the product of storm clouds.

The air was charged and smelled strongly of rain, and Leana feared that if she didn’t hurry, she would be stranded halfway between one village and the next.

But she could not leave without replenishing her stock of herbs, which she had so carefully administered to her patients. She knew the risks of traveling without the proper supplies for her work, and she would rather risk being caught in a storm than leave without her precious plants.

“Tell me, what exactly are we lookin’ for?” Jane asked briskly.

It was odd to see her frown, almost as if she expected to be given some arduous task.

Smiling, Leana pulled down her hood and looked around. “I’ll need sage, borage, thistle, yarrow—and if ye can get some wild lavender, it would be great,” she replied, thinking of the many medicines she needed to prepare and the ones she would probably have to make on the way or the return journey.

For a moment, Jane looked confused, but after Leana described the appearance of each plant to the last detail, they parted ways, moving deeper and deeper into the forest.

With each step they took, Leana remembered the forest that was close to her home. In particular, the fear she had felt the first time she had walked among those tall, silent giants. But she also remembered the fascination with what this hidden world had to offer.

Soon after her mother died, she was forced to grow up. She took care of her sisters, and she started following her father to his rounds, too. It didn’t take long for her to become a healer herself.

But that meant that Leana was often away from home for long periods of time. And every time she was, like this time, she missed her family, especially her sisters. The three of them had become very close, and when they were apart, Leana felt as if one of her limbs had been amputated.

“Is there a way to send a letter from this village?” she asked, lost in her ramblings.

After several minutes of bending over the grass, she straightened up. Her back ached, and her fingers burned from the small scrapes she had picked up as she plucked bunches of grass here and there, but the simple task filled her with satisfaction.

“I want to inform me faither and sisters that it will take me a little longer to get home.”

“There is someone with writing materials in the next village,” Jane informed her. “It’s only half an hour from here, so ye can come and go easily. I can go with ye if ye like. Although I confess, I daenae ken much of the way.”

“What, ye’re nae from around here?” Leana asked, confused.

Normally, the villagers know every road and every nook and cranny by heart.

Jane shook her head. “I grew up in a city far away, but me Harry is from these lands, so when we fell in love, I followed him here.” She looked proud. “His parents have been very good to me, especially his maither. But sometimes I miss me home.”

“That’s normal. I miss me family terribly,” Leana admitted.

“Anyway, me maither was dead when I left, and me faither… Well, he was a basket case,” Jane added in a mournful tone, after a brief laugh. “And I was very afraid of the Laird of our clan. He was frightening.”

Leana grimaced. “Aye,” she muttered, hiding her face as she looked down and pretended to continue collecting plants.

Thankfully, Jane didn’t notice, so she continued, “Sure, it’s nae like Laird MacReid is any better. In fact, I think he’s a lot scarier than me previous Laird.”

“Is he really that terrible?” Leana asked, looking curiously at her.

Jane nodded. “He takes good care of us, and me husband says it’s because of him that the land thrives. But I’ve heard all kinds of stories about him.”

“What stories?” Leana asked, leaning over the weeds with her arm outstretched to pick up a bunch of lavender.

For a moment, Jane’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “They say that the Laird was a rather feared pirate. He was out of Scotland for years, thanks to his travels, and when he returned, he came laden with gold and treasure from other realms, his hands stained with the blood of all the men he murdered…”

“A pirate laird,” Leana murmured, feeling a shiver run through her. “Sounds like something worth seein’.”

“Ye daenae want to meet him,” Jane promised, shaking her head sharply. “He’s terrifying. I saw him cross the field on horseback once. He looked like the shadow of a wolf. Even the faeries would be afraid of him.”

Leana could imagine the scene, of course. She knew well enough the fear certain lairds could inspire. She herself knew one who was a demon in human form.

After a final shudder from Jane at the thought of meeting Laird MacReid, the conversation died down, and both women concentrated on the task at hand.

By then, a light drizzle had begun to fall, filling the fields with the scent of petrichor.

Uncomfortable with the cold, Jane took shelter in the nearest barn, but Leana did not follow her.

She had to get the rest of the herbs she needed to make her medicines, or else her patients would pay the consequences.

She was so absorbed in this simple, comforting task that she did not notice the way the atmosphere was changing around her, the sound of footsteps drowned by the pattering rain. In particular, she did not notice the two shadows approaching her until it was too late.

Only her breath and the scream she let out gave any hint of what was happening. The force of her struggle, of her immediate reaction, as one of the much larger and stronger men grabbed her around the waist, gripping her arms with a brutal force that cut off her breath as she kicked and kicked.

Another tried to gag her, but Leana bit his hand so hard that he cursed. She tasted blood on her tongue.

“Help, Jane! Someone!” she cried desperately.

But Jane was far away, in the barn, and the storm was getting worse. The rumble of distant thunder not only masked the sound of the fighting, but the clouds also obscured the world to such an extent that it was almost as if night had fallen.

And so, when the two men finally managed to wrestle her to the ground and tie her up, Leana found herself helpless, with no one to come to her aid. Not even one of the grateful villagers, who would not have hesitated to come to her rescue had they known what was happening.

But defeat did not mean surrender. If she wanted to win, she would have to wait. Seeing that her captors had overpowered her, she remained calm, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Her face was smeared with mud, her hair damp and dark, running across her face like streaks of ink.

She would not stop until she was free, even if it meant risking her life. Even that would be better than being ruled by men who thought they could just snatch women from their homes –or the forests.

“Who are ye? What do ye want from me?”