Dawn Annis (21 page)

Chapter 32

Frantic, Kate urged her mount forward to a faster pace. She and Smithers rode day and night.

“M’lady,” Smithers said, raising his voice over the beat of the horses’ hooves. “The horses must last until we arrive at the castle MacGregor. There are no way stations between here and there.”

Kate knew he was right. Her worry for Shane overrode her common sense. Her chest tightened. Shane was dying. She had to get to Shane. For her, the journey lasted forever.

“M’lady. We must rest the horses. You are close to falling out of the saddle, yourself. The darkness prevents us from seeing the road. We must stop.”

They stopped near a loch and made camp. Kate was sure she could not rest much less sleep as her worry for Shane was nearly overwhelming.

She walked down to the loch to wash as Smithers made a close fire for warmth and to heat the meal Nell had packed for them. Kate walked into camp and sat down to eat.

Her grief was stark reality. Shane was dying, maybe dead. She wasn’t there to hold him, care for him, maybe for the last time. Shane wouldn’t be coming for her. She must get to him.

Sure she wouldn’t sleep, exhaustion finally over took her.

After a few short hours of sleep, Smithers shook Kate awake.

“M’lady, it is time to continue our journey.”

Kate sat up and threw off the cloak covering her. She stood. The gray light of the approaching dawn edged its way across the sky.

Smithers packed the camp while Kate washed briefly at the loch. She filled their water skins and brought them to where Smithers waited. They mounted their horses and set off to the MacGregor castle.

They crossed over into MacGregor territory.

Cresting the last hill leading into the valley, the fog’s somber mood muted the sounds of the horses as they galloped down the trail. Icy fingers pressed in on Kate. The mists clung so thickly she could not see the castle ahead but knew it was there just the same.

Seamus greeted them as they rode in, the sentries having alerted the castle to their presence.

Kate slid off her horse unaided.

“Does he live?”

“Aye, he lives.”

Kate hugged Seamus briefly, her eyes bright.

“Lass, I’m so glad to see ye. I never thought I’d lay these old eyes on ye again. I was so a’grieved when ye left.”

“Where is he?” she asked, her focus on Shane.

“In his chambers.”

Kate strode into the hall. Smithers followed, her herbal supplies in his arms. Darcey greeted them and led the way to Shane’s room. Seamus followed, the sound of his walking stick on the stone steps behind them.

Kate had not seen Shane’s rooms before. He’d always come to her room. They were large, warm and inviting. A stone fireplace stood at one end of the room. A burning fire heated the area. A fur graced the floor in front of two fur-covered chairs that stood before the hearth. Sconces along the walls shone brightly. The light illuminated the huge bed sitting close the fireplace. Merta, seeing Kate, rose from one of the chairs.

Kate’s eyes went straight to the bed where Shane lay. So still, his breath shallow. She cast off her cloak and gloves, thrusting them to Smithers, her eyes only for Shane. The dark area around his eyes stood in stark contrast to his pale, gray face. The bruise above his eyebrow was purpled and ugly. She walked over to the bed and reached under the blankets to hold his hand. Icy, it seemed lifeless. At her touch, he opened his glazed eyes. Her heart constricted with the pain she saw there.

“Shane, my love. I cannot live this life without you.”

Shane closed his eyes and drew a deep shuddering breath. Kate withdrew her hand and crossed over to the chairs.

Looking to Merta, she said, “I must see his injuries. Help me.”

Merta stepped over to her side and with the help of Smithers, they lifted the blankets from him. Kate gasped when she saw the blood-soaked quilts beneath him. Shane shivered with fever.

She moved to the other side of the bed to have better access his wound. She gave a brief nod to Smithers who lay out her herb bags on the table next to the bed.

“Merta, I need water, fresh bandages, three pots, and clean cups. And your salve,” Kate said. “Seamus, sit beside him and talk to him. Keep talking to him. We must hold him in this world. Smithers, stoke the fire. Hot. I must have it hot in here. We must keep him warm.”

Merta hurried out of the room.

Seamus moved to his son’s side, perching himself on the edge of the bed and began assuring his son. “All is well, lad. Kate is by yer side. Ye will be up and about soon.”

Smithers added more wood to the fire, stoking it to a blaze.

Kate bent and examined Shane’s injuries, taking note of the various cuts and bruises, all of them minor compared to the gash across his head and the gaping hole in his side.

Kate’s nerves burned with shock. She tasted bile at the back of her throat. Eyes stinging, her heart ached at the sight of her love so seriously injured. Her confidence wavered. Would she be able to help him? He was so badly hurt. No. She couldn’t let him die. She wouldn’t.

Finding her resolve, she went back to his head wound, deciding to start there first. She saw it was purpled, the gash ragged, but it was not deep. No pus oozed from it and the blood was clotting. The knot underneath the gash was sizable and hard. Not soft, she thought to herself. A good sign. His skull had not been crushed.

“Smithers, when you’ve finished there, please go down to the hall. Have one of the men give you some small chunks of ice from the icehouse.”

Smithers bowed slightly and left to do her bidding.

She moved to the wound in Shane’s side and bent low to look closely. “Seamus, please bring the candle closer. I cannot see properly.”

Seamus hobbled from where he was perched. He brought the pewter candelabra close to Kate’s side then lowered it to illuminate the wound. Slowly, Kate removed the bandages, horrified by what she saw in the flickering candlelight.

The area was purple and torn with ragged edges. The wound itself was about the length of her hand but thankfully, it didn’t appear to be more than a thumb length deep. With every shallow breath, the wound would open briefly then close, seeping blood with each breath. She decided to leave the moss packing the wound until she was ready to wash the area. To pull it out now would let the gaping hole bleed freely.

Merta arrived with the items Kate asked for. She set them down on the table beside Kate’s herbs then picked up the pots and carried them over to the fire. Henry followed her carrying two buckets of water.

“M’lady?” Merta shot her a questioning look.

“Put two pots on to boil. Put this in one,” Kate said, handing her valerian and echinacea leaves with a clove of garlic.

“Take them off the fire as soon as they boil. Fill the third with water and leave it for now.”

Smithers returned with the ice chunks, some smaller, some larger, all carried in a pail and handed them to Kate. She wrapped a handful of the ice in a clean rag, tying it to make a pouch. She placed it on Shane’s forehead to lower his fever and bring down the swelling above his eye.

While waiting for the water, she crushed echinacea and sage leaves, mixing them with Merta’s salve to form a thick paste. Then she applied the paste to the minor cuts and bruises on Shane’s body.

She lifted the ice pack briefly and applied the paste to the nasty gash over Shane’s eye as well then replaced the ice.

Shane shivered.

“Merta, mix cold water with one of the boiling pots.”

Kate added crushed sage. She let it steep for only a few minutes and began washing his wound with it.

“Please help me turn him onto his side. You will need to restrain him,” Kate said.

Seamus stood allowing Smithers and Henry access to the bed. Trying not to jar him, they turned Shane onto his uninjured side and held him firmly. Kate carefully removed the moss and poured the infusion directly into the wound.

Shane cried out in pain and struggled against the hands that held him.

“I know it is painful. It will be but a moment,” Kate said as tears spilled over and rolled down her face.

Determined, she continued. Poking and prodding with her fingers to reach every bit of moss she could find, rinsing with the sage water. The wound was once again bleeding freely. The blood made it difficult to see and her fingers were soon slick. She removed all moss and packed the wound once more, this time with crushed garlic, basil, and comfrey. Then she bandaged the wound tightly.

With Merta’s help, she replaced the soiled quilt with a clean one. Smithers and Henry gently laid Shane back down.

Kate moved toward the hearth and poured her tea of valerian, echinacea, and garlic into one of the cups, cooling it with some of the smaller ice chips. She brought it over to the bed.

“We will have to sit him up.”

Smithers sat on the bed and placed his arms beneath Shane’s shoulders, lifting him.

“Come, my darling. Drink,” Kate coaxed.

Seamus stood beside her. “Aye, lad. Drink it for the lass.”

Shane opened his eyes and struggled to sit up. Smithers urged him to be calm, lifting him so he could drink. Shane’s eyes found her, watching her as he took in great gulps of the liquid. He laid back onto Smithers arms. Smithers lowered him once again onto the pillows beneath him. After covering Shane with quilts and furs, Kate tucked them around Shane’s body, leaving the area around his wound loose.

When she’d finished, everyone around the room sighed with relief.

Seamus patted Shane’s arm. “All will be well.”

The men filed out and Merta began straightening up the room and soon her arms grew full of used bandages and the soiled, wet quilt.

“Henry will be up with wash water. I’ll be bringing ye up some food as well, m’lady,” Merta said as she went out the door. “'Tis good to see ye back home.”

Kate watched Merta go then tugged one of the heavy chairs nearer to the bedside. As she sat down, she closed her eyes. Home. She thought of this place as her home. She knew however her stay here would only be long enough to see Shane well. A new bride would soon arrive. She would soon leave and not return. But for now she couldn’t leave Shane. She looked over at him. His breaths were shallow and faint. He must live.

Upon reaching the hall, Seamus turned to Smithers and said, “I am thinking ye are not a brother of the church.”

Seamus gestured toward the study next to the hall and Smithers fell in beside him. They entered and Seamus closed the door after them.

Turning toward Seamus, Smithers spoke first. “As you have surmised, I am not what I have led you to believe. My name is John Smithers.”

He paused then continued.

“I have a long relationship with Kate’s family. I am her friend and her protector. My reasons for deception were to ensure her safety and the then unknown perils to that safety. Coupled with the knowledge there was, indeed, no payment for ransom forthcoming.”

Smithers surveyed the cluttered room.

“Once here, she refused to leave while you were ill and in need of her care.”

“She’s a good lass,” Seamus said.

“Yes, she is. Which leads me to the question uppermost in my mind, why would Shane marry another? I believed it apparent their feelings for one another. Have I misread the man’s true character?”

Seamus gave a heavy sigh. He sat down, gesturing at the other chair for Smithers to sit.

“Nay. Shane dinna marry.”

Seamus made his confession. He started with Shane’s responsibilities as laird. He explained the need for alliances with the MacDougall and MacDonald clans and why. He shared with Smithers the martial and agricultural plans he and Shane had made regarding the clan and bringing prosperity to them once again. He knew of his son’s feelings toward the lady but had taken the stance, ‘what was good for the clan was paramount.’ Her feelings and desires, his son’s feelings and desires, and his own feelings and desires had been moot.

“To my way of thinking Shane dinna marry the MacDonald daughter because of our sweet lass,” Seamus speculated. “I know no another reason for it. He knew his obligation to his people and to the clan.”

Seamus and Smithers fell into silence, each deep in their own thoughts.

“By the by, where’s Iain?”

Smithers told Seamus of Iain’s arrival at the cottage, his injuries, his and Kate’s departure.

“Other than that, I cannot tell you. Nell, Kate’s housekeeper, is with him now. She will look after him with great care. I do not doubt it.”

Seamus nodded. He stared out the window at the landscape, not seeing it. He was quiet for so long Smithers had begun to think their interview was over and he should leave the man to his thoughts. He made to rise when Seamus stopped him.

“I have loved only one woman in my life. We married for the strength of our clans. Our fathers saw to it. As we lived our lives together, I fell in love with her and by all that is good, she with me. She was fine woman. She gave me strong sons. She was good to me and she was taken from me far to soon,” Seamus said, staring out the window. “Well, there’s nothing for it. My son willna die. He will live. He will carry on the name like myself and my da before me. And he will do it with the woman he chooses. I’ll not force him to marry another.”

Seamus then looked at Smithers and gave him a nod of finality.

Kate would not leave Shane’s side. Her fatigue from the near-frantic nursing of Shane was taking a toll. Her eyes were encircled with dark smudges. Her body, sore, thin, and exhausted. However, she did not stop. She could not. She would not. She covered him with quilts and furs when the fevered chills threatened to overtake him. She bathed his face in cooling water when they subsided. She made him drink her teas despite his attempts to avoid the cup. She closely watched his wound, changing the bandage, keeping an eye out for any hint of infection. She watched over him as he slept, waiting for each breath to be his last.