Chapter 15
Leah stood amid the charred remnants of the village, her heart heavy with the weight of sorrow and loss.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of smoke and ash, a harsh reminder of the night's devastation.
She glanced around, taking in the faces of her neighbors, their expressions a mixture of shock and grief.
Some were tending to wounds, others salvaging what little they could from the wreckage, and Leah felt a profound sense of helplessness wash over her.
She knelt beside an older woman, gently binding a gash on her arm with a torn piece of fabric. The sight of blood made her stomach twist, and she fought against the nausea rising within her.
"How does that feel? Any better?" Leah asked, trying hard not to let her voice bend with sickness.
"Aye," the woman answered as she double-checked the binding around her forearm.
The woman offered a weak smile. Her gratitude shone through her pain, and as the woman rose, Leah took a deep breath, willing herself to focus on the task at hand.
With so many people still injured from the fire, Leah wondered when the line would end.
It seemed with each person she helped, the line grew by five more people.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Leah turned her attention to the next person and waved him in.
The husky man waddled up like a duck. Leah's hand flew to her mouth as she tried to keep the contents of her stomach down.
Holding up a finger, Leah darted around the wagon.
She gulped the air as she looked around at the chaos.
It didn't matter which way she looked; someone was hurt.
"Are ye sure ye dinnae see anythin'?"
In the background, Leah could hear Killian's strong, steady, commanding voice in the background as he questioned the villagers about the fire's origins. She watched him with a keen eye. The way he demanded attention and commanded the villagers stunned her.
"Who would do such a thin'?" a man demanded, his brow furrowed with concern. The murmurs of the crowd reached Leah's ears, snippets of conversation that made her heart skip a beat.
"Someone clearly nae wantin' the Harvest Fair to take place, that's who. And I wouldnae be surprised one bit to find it was Eddie who had done it," a woman said, wagging her bony finger in Killian's face.
"Where'd the healer go?"
Leah heard the crowd behind her raising a fit. She pulled in one more deep breath and prayed for the strength to get through the day.
"Ye have to help me," the man said. The moment Leah's eyes drew to his ankle, she lost her resolve. Everything she'd tried to keep down came up.
"I'm so sorry," Leah gasped as she darted from the scene and wove through the crowd. Her heart raced as her stomach twisted into knots.
"Leah?" Killian's voice was softer than Leah had expected. She glanced at his fingers, which found the dip in her elbow and held her still. "Where are ye goin'?"
"Just gettin' some fresh air," she mumbled.
"Ye're outside, it doesnae get much fresher than that. Nae unless ye're at the loch. But we're nae."
"I just needed a moment," Leah stammered as she dared to steal a glimpse of him.
"Aye," he said as he bobbed his head. "So have ye heard anythin' about who did this?"
Leah shook her head as she turned to scan the devastation left behind by the fire. Luckily, only a few buildings were lost, but their destruction could not be understated.
"One name came up, but I think the person was just bein' bitter," Leah answered.
"Are thinkin' it was Eddie? Aye, I've heard the name come up a few times. But I agree with ye. I daenae think he'd do this."
As much as Leah wanted to listen to Killian's theories, she needed to rest. The world was wobbling, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.
"Ye havenae been drinkin' have ye lass?" Killian asked as he grabbed her arm to keep her upright.
"Nay," she answered as she pressed her fingers to her temples. "I just need to lie down for a spell."
"Right then," Killian said. His voice was both stern and soothing.
It was as if Leah knew that no matter what happened, Killian would take care of it.
That was what he did. He was the protector and caregiver.
He was the laird. Why people thought he was touched in the head baffled her more and more every day.
"Ye stay right here and I'll go see about gettin' an inn for the night. I daenae want ye ridin' if ye cannae even walk."
Killian pushed open the heavy wooden door of the nearest tavern, the scent of ale and roasted meat wafting toward him like an inviting embrace. The dimly lit space was alive with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of tankards, but his heart was set on one thing: securing a place for the night.
He strode to the bar, his stature drawing the attention of a few patrons, their gazes lingering on the imposing figure of the Highlander. The innkeeper, a stout man with a bushy beard and twinkling eyes, wiped his hands on a soiled apron.
"What can I do for ye?" he boomed, misinterpreting Killian's intent.
"I require accommodations for the night. Big enough for two, if ye have it."
The innkeeper's brow furrowed as he rifled through a ledger. "Aye, well, ye've come at a busy time. The fire has brought in more travelers than I can handle. I've only one room left—a small one."
Killian's heart sank. "How small?"
"Small enough for a single bed," the innkeeper said with a shrug, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "Might be a tight fit for a man of your stature, but it's all I can offer."
Killian clenched his jaw; the thought of squeezing into a tiny bed with Leah made his pulse quicken, but not in the way he hoped.
"Surely there must be somethin' else available. I cannae... It wouldnae be…"
The innkeeper chuckled, his belly shaking. "I understand yer plight, but ye know how it is in times like these. Everyone needs a roof over their head. I can offer ye a discount on the small room, if that helps."
Killian leaned closer, lowering his voice to a more commanding tone. "I'll pay more for a better room. Perhaps one with two beds?"
The innkeeper's eyes narrowed, weighing the Highlander's determination against his dwindling options.
"There's one other room, with a larger bed, but it comes at a price.
It's double the cost of the smaller one but I daenae let the girls go up to that room so if ye want somethin' ye have to come down to get it. "
Killian's heart raced. "Done. Just show me the room."
He followed the innkeeper through a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with rustic charm and the faint scent of woodsmoke lingering in the air.
When they reached the room, the innkeeper swung the door open to reveal a modest space with a sturdy wooden bed and a small window letting in the soft glow of twilight.
"Here it is," the innkeeper said, a triumphant grin on his face. "One bed, big enough for two, but I cannae promise the mattress is in the best condition."
Killian stepped inside, running a hand over the rough-hewn bedpost. It wasn't luxurious, but it would do.
He could already imagine Leah's expression when she entered—her surprise, perhaps a hint of delight.
The thought of having her alone in this room sent a thrill through him, igniting a warmth in his chest.
"Perfect," he said, turning to the innkeeper, who was still watching him with keen interest. He tossed a handful of coins onto the counter. "Consider it a fair exchange."
As the innkeeper pocketed the coins and departed, Killian leaned against the door frame, a grin creeping across his face.
He envisioned the evening ahead. But as the reality of their situation settled in, he felt a flutter of nerves.
How would Leah react to sharing a room? Would she be as thrilled as he was, or would she fuss about propriety?
The thought of her blush at the prospect of sleeping so close sent a surge of heat through him.
Killian ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. He needed to focus on the task at hand: helping the villagers rebuild. Yet, the promise of the night ahead—the chance to be near Leah, to breathe in her scent and feel her warmth—made it difficult to concentrate.
A part of him was ready to embrace the adventure, to let the evening unfold as it would.
With a final glance around the room, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.
Tonight, he would find out just how strong the bond between them could become, and he couldn't wait to see the look in Leah's eyes when he told her the news.
As Killian made his way through the village, the sounds of hammers striking nails and voices murmuring with determination filled the air.
The villagers were a resilient bunch, but it was Leah's soft voice that caught his attention, drawing him toward a small cluster of people gathered around a makeshift medical station.
He approached cautiously, peering over the shoulders of the villagers to find Leah kneeling beside a small boy, no older than eight, whose face was streaked with dirt and tears.
A bad gash marred his forearm, the deep red wound stark against his ashen skin.
Leah's brow was furrowed in concentration as she worked, her fingers deftly cleaning the injury with a cloth, but Killian noticed the slight tremble in her hands.
Her face, usually so composed, was a mix of focus and unease.
Killian couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself.
How had she ever become a healer? The sight of blood, even a small cut, seemed to send her into a flurry of anxiety.
Yet here she was, tending to the boy with all the care in the world.
He admired her dedication, even if she appeared a touch squeamish.
As if sensing his gaze, Leah looked up, her deep blue eyes locking onto his. The moment their eyes met, a rosy blush erupted across her cheeks, creeping down her neck like wildfire. Killian felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her flustered expression, and he couldn't help but grin.
"Killian!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. "I dinnae see ye there."
"Clearly," he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Ye look as if ye might faint at any moment."
"I'm fine, it's just—this little one is quite brave, but I'm nae used to such... messy work. I prefer herbs and salves, not—" She gestured at the boy's arm with a wince.
Killian stepped closer, his presence a reassuring weight as he knelt beside her. "Ye're doin' wonderfully. The lad needed ye, and ye came through."
"And what of ye?" Leah asked. "Did ye find us somewhere to rest?"
"Aye, but I daenae think ye're goin' to like it," he answered as he tried to keep the smile off his face.
Leah's eyes narrowed as she studied him a moment. "Then why do I get the feelin' that ye're nae tellin' me somethin'? Did ye nae find us a place?"
"Aye, I found one. But the inn had but one room. Ye have to understand, there's a few people who have been put out because of the fire and the rooms were scarce."
"Killian, ye're nae instillin' any confidence in me," Leah said as she folded her arms over her chest. "Just say what ye're goin' to say and have it out already."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "We'll be sharin' a room tonight."
Leah's expression shifted from joy to utter shock. The blush that had barely faded from her cheeks flared back to life and raced down her neck like a crimson ribbon. "Wh-what?" she stammered, her eyes widening.
"And there's but one bed," he continued, enjoying the way the heat of embarrassment deepened in her features. "The innkeeper assured me it was quite cozy."
"Cozy?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Killian, we cannae—"
"Why nae?" he challenged, a playful glint in his eye. "Tis just practical. We'll keep each other warm, and ye can have me cloak to snuggle under," he teased, unable to resist the way her flustered state made her look all the more enchanting.
"I—uh—" Leah fumbled for words, her mind racing. "What if there's nay room? What if it's uncomfortable? We could—"
"Leah," he interrupted, his voice low and earnest, "it's just sleep. I promise I willnae bite. Unless of course ye want me to."