Chapter Two
Emma left the healing hut frustrated. She understood that the Gunns and Mackenzies were at odds right now, but was it necessary for Morgan Gunn to take it out on her?
She walked into the great hall to find a tremendous amount of scurrying around and Gregory shouting. She grabbed one of the maids who was hurrying past, wringing her hands.
“What is amiss?”
“Megan Mackenzie is missing. After a search, Gregory found an opening in the castle wall with evidence that she’d been dragged through it.”
She sucked in a breath and covered her mouth with her hand, unable to believe what she had heard. “Nay!”
She began searching for Daniel and finally found him in the great hall, his expression frantic.
She told him the story of the warrior neither she nor Beth recognized coming into the hut and leaving with Megan by telling everyone that Gregory wanted her.
“None of us recognized the mon, but then, we aren’t familiar with all yer warriors. ”
Daniel ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t ye still have a couple of Gunn warriors in yer healing hut?”
“Only one.” Emma wrung her hands. “He cannae be moved because of a bruised chest and a deep wound on the back of his leg.”
He jerked his head and walked off, heading to the healing hut, mumbling, “I doona care.”
Emma ran after him. As much as she disliked Morgan Gunn, he was still her patient, and she had to protect him from whatever it was Daniel had in mind.
Daniel shoved open the door to the hut. She followed him to see Morgan attempting to sit up and failing. Instead, his face was pale from both the strain, and the pain. He glared at Daniel with wide eyes. “What is it?”
The laird walked up to him and leaned over. “What have ye done with Megan Mackenzie?”
Morgan ignored Daniel and instead looked over his shoulder at Emma. “Who?”
Daniel grabbed the neckline of his léine and hauled him up, so they were nose to nose. “Megan Mackenzie is wife to Gregory Mackenzie, my cousin and Second-in-Command. Yer laird has been trying to get her away from Gregory so he could marry her.”
He shoved Morgan back, and Emma winced as his head bounced on the bed. “The lass is missing. She was dragged through an opening in the castle wall while ye and yer men fought a useless battle at the front of the castle.”
Morgan appeared to lose some of his fear at this rough treatment and his belligerence began to show. “I have no idea of what ye speak, laird. I doona ken the lass, nor do I ken what happened to her.”
“But ye waged a false battle to distract us.”
“I am Laird Stephen Angus Gunn’s Second-in-Command, and his heir, but I am not in on all his decisions. The only thing I ken is that I was told to prepare my men to join the Sinclairs for an attack on the Mackenzies, but not make it a brutal one.”
“And ye dinna question him on those strange orders?” Daniel snarled.
He huffed. “No one questions the Gunn.”
“Bruised ribs and a nasty gash on yer leg or no’, I can throw ye in the dungeon until ye tell me something,” the laird growled.
Emma sucked in a deep breath to protest, “Nay, laird. I doona want to be disrespectful, but I believe my patient’s welfare demands he stay in one place.”
Daniel drew himself up and said, “I am yer laird.” He pointed at Morgan. “He is the enemy who just attacked us as an excuse to kidnap Megan Mackenzie.”
The minx stepped forward, glaring up at the laird’s great height. As fierce as her expression was, she spoke softly. “And I am his healer.”
Morgan swallowed his laughter at the small lass standing up to the laird, while he waited for the laird to put the lass into the dungeon with him. Instead, the man swung around and stormed from the hut.
That was unexpected. Morgan studied the lass’s face. “Why would ye defy the laird on my behalf?”
Emma looked him in the eye, again causing a strange feeling in his stomach. “I consider my healing skills a gift from God. To my way of thinking, God outranks the laird.”
Still amazed at the healer’s actions, he nodded. “I wish to apologize for splattering ye with the drink ye left me for pain.”
The healer smirked. “I have the feeling ye doona find apologizing an easy thing to do, Morgan Gunn.”
Despite wanting to shrug her off, he quirked a smile back at her. “Aye.”
“I have dealt with many patients, injured and in pain. ’Tis no’ a nice thing to go through, especially for a warrior.
I ken yer injury is painful and ye are stuck at the verra castle ye tried to breech.
But, to me, all patients are just that. My patients.
” She took in a deep breath. “I will mix ye up another tisane if ye wish.”
Morgan was amazed at the woman’s kindness, something he’d never experienced much of in his life. “Why would ye do that?”
Emma shrugged. “I doona like to see people suffer. ’Tis probably why I find healing such a satisfying way to fill my days.”
The longer they spoke to each other, the more Morgan calmed. The lass definitely had a way with people. But she was still an Emma he reminded himself. And, a Mackenzie. His enemy.
*
Emma spent most of the night tossing and turning. She’d worked at healing dozens of warriors in the time she’d been a healer, but never did she have the same reaction to them as she did to Morgan Gunn.
The man would catch any lass’s eye. Tall, strong body—that of a typical warrior—with wavy dark hair that fell on his forehead.
She had been so involved with tending to his leg and chest and ducking his insults that it hadn’t been until she brought him the second tisane that she had looked right into his deep-brown eyes.
And almost dropped the mug.
Morgan Gunn.
The enemy.
From the clan that killed her da in battle.
The next morning, she broke her fast and then checked on her patient. Before she was able to even speak with him, Edith Mackenzie came barreling into the healing hut, holding a screaming, bloodied toddler.
“Emma, please, my little one fell from the tree in front of our bothy and he’s all scraped up and I’m afraid he’s broken his arm!”
Emma moved to the mother and put her hand on her shoulder. “These things aways look worse than they are. It will help him if ye calm down.”
Edith licked her lips and nodded. “Aye.”
Emma took the little one from her arms and placed him on her examination table. She made soothing sounds as she looked over his little body. The child continued to scream and kick.
“He has some scrapes and will probably have a little bit of bruising, but nothing is broken. I am a little concerned about the bump on his head, though.”
She used a wet cloth to wipe down his scrapes before she scooped out a bit of the healing cream from the jar on the shelf above her, and smoothed it over his injuries.
“I suggest ye keep an eye on the bump. If he seems unusually drowsy, which is possible with how upset he is, let him sleep but wake him up every quarter hour else he sleep and ne’er wake up again. ”
Eventually the bairn calmed down and reached out for his mam. Edith bundled him up and hugged him, her own eyes filled with tears. Emma gave him a small biscuit which brought a smile to his face, with one lone tear tracking down his chubby cheek.
The mother left hugging the child and speaking with him. He seemed more interested in the biscuit.
“Why were ye no’ so nice to me?” Morgan sounded like a bairn.
Emma walked over to the counter and picked up a biscuit, handed it to him, and smirked. “Here ye are. Now I expect better behavior.”
“If ye hug me the way that mam did, ye might see better behavior.” He took a bite of the biscuit and grinned, something she had not seen him do since he had been carried bellowing into the healing hut.
It softened his hard, warrior features and made him even more handsome to look at, which he probably knew.
“If I hug ye, the pain would require ye to take the ‘lasses’ tisane.’” She grinned, but quickly reminded herself that any exchange between them except for as healer and patient was not something she wanted to entertain. Handsome or no, he was still a prisoner of her clan.
Reminding herself of her duty, she placed her hands on her hips and said, “I am going to examine yer leg now and check the stitches. I doona want any improper or lewd comments from ye.”
He glared back. “Just do what ye need to do so I can return to Clyth Castle.”
She huffed, not sure why he didn’t understand Daniel was not likely to return him or any other prisoners back to Clyth Castle anytime soon.
She reached out and touched his bare leg. He had been wearing only a léine that went halfway down his legs since it was easier for him to go back and forth to relieve himself without his breeches.
He jumped a bit when she laid her hand on him.
She flinched also. “’Tis sorry I am if my hands are cold.”
The swelling in his leg had gone down, but it hadn’t yet returned to normal. Also, she was afraid there might be the beginning of an infection. Instead of ripping out the stitches she decided to wait a few hours and smooth more liniment over it that could stop any infection if used soon enough.
“Shouldn’t yet wrap my ribs so they heal faster?” Morgan asked.
She shook her head. “Nay. Although yer bruise is painful and will take a few weeks to totally heal, wrapping it is not considered the best thing to do because it could affect your breathing.
“Also, ye should take a few deep breaths every hour or so. If it hurts to do that, ye can hold a pillow against ye while ye do that.”
He stared at her. “Are ye making his up? Is this something ye are telling me to keep me stuck in this bed longer?”
Emma fisted her hands at her side, lest she smack the ejjit over the head with something heavy. It was best not to make the patient suffer more than he already was when he’d arrived, no matter how tempting the idea.
She took a deep breath. “I doona make things up to keep my patients under my care longer.” She turned away from him and muttered, “Especially ye.”
Feeling the need to leave the man’s presence, she took another deep breath and said, “I will bring ye something to break yer fast.” She turned on her heel and left the room, experiencing what some she’d heard some describe as seeing red.
If he remained her patient much longer, she would pass out from all the deep breaths she was taking.