Chapter four
The cut on my side stung as if demons themselves had raked their nails down my flesh and torn it open, but I gritted my teeth and bore it in silence.
The gods had handed me this gift, and I wasn’t about to squander it by showing weakness.
I settled onto the log, and a heaviness immediately gripped me.
I was tired. Not sleeping for the past day was catching up to me.
Possibly, a fever was setting in from the wound Siward had inflicted.
I smiled grimly to myself as I lifted my blood-stiffened tunic and looked down at the angry red gash I’d tried my best to tend.
I knew precious little about the healing arts, but I was nearly certain this was the renowned healer, Katreine, the king wanted.
I was in good hands, or I would be when her focus turned to me.
Given I’d been led here by whispers in every village I’d passed through of a Summer Walker named Katreine with astonishing healing powers, I could not see how this woman wasn’t the prize I’d been hunting.
Still, I was not the sort of man to leave things to chance.
I studied her for a moment as she tended the now quiet, though still sniffling, bairn.
The king had said the healer was bonny, and this woman was certainly that.
Even wounded and tired as I was, I found myself hardening with lust at the sight of her.
I wouldn’t act on it, of course. That would be a complication I neither needed nor wanted, but I couldn’t control the physical reaction she provoked any more than I could control the sun rising tomorrow.
Her long, silky, coppery strands had fallen like a curtain, shielding her face as she examined the bairn, but I could easily recall her details.
Her most striking feature was her eyes. The color was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
They were gold streaked with brown, and they shone with the same razor-sharp wit and daft boldness I’d witnessed in her exchange with the warrior.
She had high cheekbones and lips that looked as if they were made to be kissed or to deliver searing insults.
And her body, well, my fingers curled inward as I imagined what it might feel like to run them over her ample breasts or glide them over the gentle swell of her hips, which I could make out when she set her hand to them as she stared at the bairn.
“What did ye say yer name was?” I asked to confirm I had the right healer. I doubted there was more than one in this tiny village, and the medicine woman I’d met in the last village had said the Summer Walkers, including Katreine, were camped here for the winter, but I wanted to be certain.
She paused, a vile in her hand that she’d been opening, and glanced toward me.
Her annoyance with me was obvious in the fierce frown on her face, which somehow made her look charming and, oddly, made me want to chuckle.
“I did nae say,” she replied, then dismissed me as quickly as she’d acknowledged me.
She was a cheeky wench, but I liked cheeky wenches in general.
They had fire aplenty. I’d never been a man for a dull-witted woman who would simply do as I bid.
Someday, when I had the home, the warriors, and the coin to provide for a family, I was going to find myself a spirited woman to wed.
The woman who’d silently been fetching things the healer requested smiled at me as she handed the healer a rag and a bowl. “I’m Gillie, and she’s—”
“Gillie!” the healer gasped, startling the bairn, who began wailing again, and bringing the distraught mama scurrying over with her arms outstretched for her child.
The healer stood, her skirts swishing at her ankles, and handed the lass to the mama with great care.
“’Tis her teeth,” the healer said, patting the mama on the arm.
The mama frowned. “But she does nae have any teeth yet.”
The healer gave her a gentle smile. “She’s getting some now. ’Tis what the crying is about. She’s yer first bairn, aye?”
The mama nodded as she swayed back and forth to soothe the bairn.
“Is Eliza nearing one?” the healer asked as she emptied the contents of the vile into a bowl, stirred it, then slung the rag over her shoulder.
“Aye.”
“That’s about the time they get teeth. When the teeth break through the gums, it hurts. I’m going to send ye a salve to apply to Eliza’s gums every night to ease the pain.”
“I do nae have any coin of my own to pay ye, and my husband will nae give me any coin for this.”
I stood, grunting, which drew all the women’s attention to me. “I’ll pay for the lass’s care,” I said, reaching for my coin bag and wincing at the sharp pain the movement caused.
“Ye would do that?” the healer asked, surprise evident in her tone.
“Aye,” I said, grasping a handful of coins. “How much?”
She gave me a strange look, as if she were contemplating me.
“Keep yer coin,” she said, holding out a pouch to the mama and looking at her. “I was nae going to charge ye for services.”
“Thank ye, my lady.”
“I’m nae a lady,” the healer said, her tone sharp, but I’d swear she was lying. There was something about her cultured tone and the way she held herself with such poise that reminded me of Munro’s wife, Murieall, who was the daughter of a great laird.
The mama hugged the healer tightly, profusely thanking her, then scurried into the thick crowd of villagers gathered along the banks to hock their wares and trade for what they needed to live.
“Come to me,” she said, motioning me forward.
I knew it was simply to treat me, but, by the gods, there was a husky edge to her voice that made me imagine her naked, hair fanned around her, and me pleasuring her.
I gave myself a mental shake as I closed the distance between us.
I would stop thinking lustful thoughts about this woman right now.
She was nothing more to me than a means to the future I had long yearned for.
When I stopped in front of her, we stood so close that the scents of thyme and lavender that swirled around her filled my nose with each breath. Up close, she was even lovelier, with the delicate bones of her face, keen eyes, and a proud curl to her lips.
“So ye came for my healing skills?” she asked, studying me closely.
I nodded. It was not a lie. I’d come to take her to the king, but I now found myself in need of her skills.
“What brings ye so far from the Highlands?” she asked, reaching toward me as if she were about to tug my tunic up.
I stilled her hand. I needed a moment to control the lust surging through me, and her hands on my skin certainly would not help. “A mission for the king,” I replied. Sticking as close to the truth as possible was the wisest and easiest course of action.
“Is this mission one of witch-hunting?” she asked, her words halting with disgust.
“Nay,” I assured her, grunting as I tugged my tunic over my head.
When I got it off, I felt the cool sweat on my forehead, and my wound throbbed.
I met her gaze, fixed on me. “I can assure ye, I have no wish to be part of the hunt for women accused of being witches.” She looked unconvinced and ill at ease.
Was it because she was a healer? Did she fear being named a witch because of her skill?
“Nae anyone would accuse ye of being a witch simply because of yer healing abilities,” I assured her.
I thought I caught a disbelieving look exchanged between her and the lass Millie, but when the healer pressed lightly near my wound, a shaft of pain shot through my side, and I reflexively gripped her shoulder, forgetting everything but the pain.
She looked up at me, hair falling back, lips parting beguilingly.
“I’m sorry. ’Tis infected. I’ll need to cleanse it with Liquid Fire.”
I nodded. “Do you have a stick I can bite on?”
She glanced at Millie, who scurried into the tent and emerged a moment later with a stick, which the lass held out to me. “Ye’ve lots of scars,” Millie murmured, her gaze roaming over my stomach and chest.
“Aye, as I said, I’m Laird Ross’s right-hand man.”
“Does yer laird war much?” the healer asked.
“Only when he needs to protect our clan,” I assured her.
She smiled faintly at that, but the tiny smile revealed two dimples I wanted to run my thumbs over. “My name is Katreine,” she said. “Katreine Whyte, and this is my sister.”
“Pleased to meet ye,” Gillie drawled as she gave me an awkward curtsy.
Whyte was a surname I knew Summer Travelers often used.
Maybe I’d been wrong about Katreine. Maybe she was simply a gypsy with uncommon grace and cultured speech, but I didn’t think so.
Her sister didn’t share the same mannerisms or speech, and if they were truly sisters, their mama would have passed them down to both of them.
Then again, Summer Walkers often made their families from those they chose, not from blood, so maybe this woman, Katreine, had chosen the Whyte family, or maybe they’d chosen her.
Either way, it wasn’t my concern. My only care was delivering her to the king, which meant keeping her close, watching for the others hunting her, and collecting my prize after handing her over.
“What sort of mission are ye on for the king?”
“A secret one,” I said, keeping my tone teasing so she’d hopefully leave it be. She snorted as she opened the vile of wound wash. The sour smell was so pungent that my eyes watered. “Ye asked if I was here for yer mission?” I prodded.
“Aye,” she nodded as she stood. “This will hurt, but it seems ye already ken that.”
“Aye, I’ve had the Liquid Fire before. What sort of mission do ye need a man for?”
She eyed me. “I need a warrior. A brave, honorable one to accompany me to the Dark Woods in—”
“The MacLeod Clan’s land,” I interrupted. “Why do ye wish to go there?”
“’Tis my private business,” she responded. “Besides, what does it matter to ye? Ye were nae here to answer my call for a warrior.”
“Well, I’m headed back that way anyway, back to my home. I could see ye safely there.”
“For coin?”
“Nay. ’Tis on my way.”
She cocked her head, as if considering. “How’d ye get this wound?”
“I was ambushed,” I said honestly. I hadn’t expected Siward to be following me. I’d expected we’d cross paths, but I hadn’t expected him to simply let me do the work of finding Katreine’s trail, then try to rid himself of me once he knew exactly where to look for her.
“How did the man who ambushed ye fare?” she asked.
“Worse than me,” I assured her. “He’s nae walking any longer.”
“Ye broke his legs?” she gasped.
“Nay, I tied him up and left him in the woods.”
“To starve to death?”
“Nay. I likely should have, but I’m nae a monster. So, do ye wish me to accompany ye?”
She nibbled her lip, pulled her hair back, rolled up her sleeves, and stripped off the apron she wore. The motion made her loose tunic slip slightly off her right shoulder, just enough for me to see the top of what looked like a star formed by freckles. My pulse jumped. This was my woman.
“Bite down,” she said instead of answering my question.
The moment my teeth clamped onto the stick, she poured the liquid over me.
My body tensed, my heart galloped, and fire ate at my side, but I didn’t move, save for the flare of my nostrils and the fast pulse at my neck.
I was being judged, and I had to come out acceptable.
I knew there was no way our journey to the king would go peacefully the entire way.
There would come a time when the lass would realize I was not taking her to the Dark Woods, but the later that time came, the better.
My blood was roaring in my ears and scorching through my veins as she said, “Ye’ll do. I’d like to leave at dawn.”
I cleared my throat, which had tightened with the pain. “I’d prefer we leave tonight.”
She frowned. “I thought ye said ye left the other man tied up in the woods. Do ye fear he’ll come for ye?”
“I do nae fear any man, lass. I simply want to return home as soon as possible.”
“Ye have a woman waiting?” Gillie suddenly spoke up.
“Nay,” I shook my head. “I’ve got plans, and I’ve waited long enough to start them. I’m nae getting any younger.”
And then the oddest thing happened. Katreine and Gillie began to laugh. They laughed so long and hard that tears were streaming down both their faces.