Chapter Twenty-Five #3
Grant nudged his magnificent stallion forward, bringing it within inches of his horse. “You kidnapped my sister, Ramsay. There is no honor in you as a Scotsman.”
The Grant was massive and every bit as impressive as he was rumored to be.
“Aye, I acted in haste. God’s truth, my brother acted in haste because I was on death’s door.
Your sister has come to nae harm. I ask you to come to my hall and speak to her before you pass judgment on my clan.
The actions I took were for my own benefit and no’ for my clan’s. ”
Quade’s eyes met the laird’s. He thought he saw a glimmer of softening there, enough to give him hope he was not about to have his head cleaved from his body in one swoop from the man’s giant claymore.
Grant’s brother flanked him. He had eyes like Brenna, more soulful than the lairds.
Quade reminded himself he spoke to the family of the lass he loved, and he would give them as much respect as he gave her.
Grant’s powerful warhorse whinnied and pawed the ground, anxious about something, but he couldn’t tell what. Then Quade caught the subtle shift of Grant’s eyes back toward the keep. What had he seen? He turned his head to look in that direction and drew back.
Brenna.
Brenna flew across the meadow on her horse in all her glory.
He tried to return his gaze to the Grant but couldn’t.
Powerless against the siren flying toward them, his chest swelled with a strange kind of pride as she galloped toward them.
Her hair was unbound, chestnut locks waving in the sun, but she didn’t let that stop her.
He knew Brenna by now. She never cared about her appearance, whether due to her innocent misunderstanding of how it affected people or because it wasn’t important to her, he wasn’t sure.
Her hair had been back earlier, but it was always in a bit of disarray, so it hadn’t taken much for the wind to pull it from its confines.
She was magnificent—glorious in her beauty, steadfast in her strength.
Everything about her called to him without speaking.
He couldn’t let her go, he realized as he watched her, he would never let her go.
Beyond her beauty, she was the most intelligent lass he had ever met.
She knew things most men could not begin to understand, things he couldn’t begin to understand.
They belonged together. He knew he couldn’t marry her, but mayhap he could settle with having her stay in his keep as the healer.
He would force himself to use restraint and stay away from her just to keep her near.
His people needed her, his children needed her.
He needed her.
He loved her and admired her more than he had ever loved before. That thought frightened him, but he knew he would do whatever it took to make her stay. What Laird Grant wanted did not matter. This called for extreme measures.
Chapter Thirteen
Brenna meets Torrian, the son Quade treasured and protected a little too much.
His son? He had a son with the same disease?
Brenna sank into healer mode immediately and approached the bed from the side.
Kneeling down on the side of the pallet, she searched the lad for clues.
His eyes were open, but his breathing was shallow.
When he glanced up at her, he lacked the ability to lift his head from the soft pillow.
His bed consisted of mounds of materials, and was probably the thickest she had ever seen.
She reached for his head, but stopped when Quade spoke.
“Do no’ touch him, Brenna. Sometimes, even touch pains him.” He sat on the other side of the pallet, the pain in his face clearly visible. “How do you fare today, my son?”
Brenna’s heart broke in two. How could Quade have dealt with so much anguish on his own? Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she fought them, intent to do what must be done as a healer.
“Da? ‘Tis you?” A brief smile touched the boy’s thin lips. His voice was weak and raspy, barely discernible in the quiet of the cottage.
“How many summers, Quade? And how long has he been like this?” She glanced up at him, noticing how his eyes filled with love as he stared at his first born.
“He is seven summers, and he has been ill ever since his second summer. It broke his mother’s heart when he became sick. Does your head hurt today, lad?”
“Aye, a bit. No’ too bad, Papa. Who is with you?”
“Torrian, this is Lady Brenna. She is a healer, and I’ve brought her here to see if she can help you.”
“Have you seen Lily yet, Lady Brenna?”
“Aye, I have met your beautiful sister, Torrian.” Brenna watched him closely as they talked.
She noticed the paleness of his skin, the wasting in his muscles.
The disease had ravaged his body far more than it had Lily’s.
She pulled the blanket down a touch so she could see more of him.
Thin, spindly arms and legs poked out of soft night clothes.
“May I look at your skin, Torrian?”
When she reached for his arm, Quade grabbed her hand. “Nay, Brenna. We do no’ ken what he has. He has always had a terrible rash. ‘Tis verra painful for him. Take care to avoid touching his blisters.”
Brenna removed Quade’s hand from her own, and she wrapped both her hands around his.
“I am no’ afraid of your son. ‘Tis all right if I touch him. I promise no’ to hurt him.
” She searched over Quade’s shoulder for her brother.
“Alex, the lad is fine. ‘Tis no’ something in the air. You may come closer if you wish.”
Quade stood, his face etched with concern. “Lass, how can you ken that for sure? Every healer who has seen him has cautioned against allowing others to come inside the room and breathe the same air.”
“I believe this is the same illness Lily has. It isnae in the air. I can help your son, too, by adjusting what he eats.”
“Brenna, every other healer who has been here has said that what ails Torrian is nae the same as what ails Lily. Are you certain?”
“Nay, not certain. But I believe there are enough similarities between the two that it is the same disease. Torrian has had it longer, aye? His symptoms are worse.” She grabbed his hand. “I believe I can help him. You need to trust me.”
Chapter Fourteen
A healer heals in many ways…
Alex left with Brodie and his guards early the next morning, anxious to return to his pregnant wife.
It was difficult for Brenna to bid farewell to her brothers, but she couldn’t do anything else.
She had to help Torrian. If she couldn’t heal him completely, perhaps she could find a way to control his symptoms, so he did not have so much pain.
Brenna headed down the hill with her healer’s satchel and extra towels. She stopped to chat with a few villagers on the way but was careful not to discuss her destination. Quade had sent word ahead for Torrian’s helper to fill the tub for him.
Still shocked by the revelation that Quade had a son, she was even more surprised that the child had been kept hidden all these years.
Having discussed the situation with Quade’s mother at breakfast, all she’d learned was that the family felt it was risky to let anyone know the chieftain’s son was alive and ill.
That was why he was kept in a separate building, along with the possibility that his illness was in the air.
Brenna had tried to reason with Quade that the boy’s condition was clearly not catching since he had been with the child many times without developing it, but he did not seem convinced. Too many other healers had persuaded him otherwise.
When she entered the cottage, Margaret greeted her along with her husband, Ennis, who had just filled the tub with steaming water from the hearth. Brenna had asked Quade for some time alone with Torrian, and so Margaret and Ennis left the cottage once the tub was full.
Brenna glanced around at the homey cottage.
It didn’t look like a cottage for a laird’s son on the outside, but inside, she could see nothing was spared for Quade’s son.
A wooden box held a few toys, but they didn’t appear to be used much.
Margaret had everything she needed to cook and care for Torrian, including a beautiful tub.
A couple of illustrated books sat near the bed.
Soft blankets and pillows were everywhere along with tapestries of horses and dogs.
Before assisting Torrian into the warm water, she added lavender oil and oatmeal to help with the itching. She had also brought special gloves for him to wear while he slept to prevent scratching.
After he settled in the tub, the lad anxiously chattered away.
“Lady Brenna, I am so glad you came back today. Do you think you can help me?”
“I think so. I believe you have some variation of the sickness your sister has.”
“How is my sister? I havenae seen her in a long time.” He peered anxiously at her, anxious for news from outside his small prison.
“She is doing much better.”
“How? Have you healed her? What did you do to help her?” The look of hope on his face tore at her heart.
“Well, she is eating only certain foods, Torrian. I think some of the foods you eat might be making you sick.” She carefully washed his hair as she talked, meticulously allowing the lavender oil to settle on the blisters on his scalp.
“But how can that be? Lily has never had the blisters or the rash like I have. It must be different.”
“Sometimes the same illness will show different signs in different people.
I think ‘tis the case with you and your sister. There are problems you and Lily share that are verra much the same. Later I will talk to you about what you eat. Since you are older than Lily, you can take a larger role in your own care. I want you to ken which foods are safe so you can be sure you are eating the right things.”
“May I see Lily?”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Brenna drenched her cloth again and soaked the lad’s torso in the warm water.