Dawn Annis (9 page)

The ransom was not to be paid. Although it was, indeed, good to know he wouldn’t have the king on his back.

How was he going to provide for his clan? Now he had a new problem. He wouldn’t let Kate, a woman alone in the world, leave and fend for herself with no family to go to. He needed to inform her she would be accepted and welcomed into his clan. But then, if he couldn’t feed them, how did he think he was offering her a life any better than what she’d had?

Chapter 12

Kate spent most of her time with Seamus, dosing him with fresh herbal teas. She applied new poultices of garlic, comfrey, and honey to fight infection and promote healing. She tied the bandages carefully. She made sure everything surrounding him was clean. When she changed his bandages she was sure to boil and launder them for the next use.

She and Merta bathed him daily much to his chagrin.

“Och, I can wash myself. Ye dinna have to do it for me,” Seamus said, pushing away Kate’s hands.

“Allow me to bathe you, Seamus. You may reopen your wounds and it won’t do either one of us any good,” Kate said firmly. “The bath will take but a moment.”

“Och, ye big old bear. Let the lass do her worst. Ye canna be such a wee bairn.” Merta laughed.

The teasing did the trick.

“Blessed woman, I’ll catch my death! Just see if I dinna get worse!”

Kate and Merta laughed and hurried to finish his bath.

“Merta, come take a peek at this.”

“Aye,” Merta said as she stepped over to Seamus’s bedside. They had finished bathing him and settled him into bed.

“This area here.” Kate pointed to the tissue on his chest. The wound was not red or pink with health but rather an ugly grey, green color.

“Oh, that dinna look right.” Merta peered down. “Dinna smell good.”

“I don’t think so either.” Kate shook her head. “I have seen this before. I am afraid I am going to have to trim the edges. The flesh around the wound is dead.”

“Nay, ye canna.”

“Merta, please go find Iain. Perhaps this is a decision best made together.”

“Aye.”

Merta returned with Iain at her heels. Her lips were pursed, her arms crossed over her chest ready to take a stand. Iain’s scowl of concern was in contrast to his usual open manner.

Kate held her hand up at the sight of them. “I know cutting into an already injured man does not make sense to you.” Kate turned to Seamus. “This involves you, old man, so the decision is yours. You have allowed me to help you and your people because I have some knowledge of herbs and healing. I learned this from my mother.

“I saw this problem happen when I was a young girl. One of my mother’s servants had been thrown from a horse and lay in the mud with a severe broken leg quite some time before he was discovered. The fracture had torn through the muscle and skin. My mother nursed the leg for a fortnight to no avail. The wound became putrid and would not heal. The man developed a fever that would not break. I watched my mother perform the gruesome task of cutting the flesh until there were fresh edges, evidence of a clean wound. While a horrible ordeal, the servant did recover and is still in possession of his leg. Unfortunately, many times it is not always the case. Many times the patient dies. He most certainly will die if the putrid flesh is left.”

Seamus looked at Kate and nodded.

“Iain, hold Seamus. Merta, assist me.”

Seamus growled and gritted his teeth. With a heated knife, Kate cut the flesh until the edges were raw and bloody.

Kate was pleased to see that Seamus was making startling progress. With his wounds free from infection and now healing, Seamus had fewer fevers and his body reacted well to the teas and poultices Kate used. He was gaining strength each day. He would heal. He would live.

Shane had been gone over two weeks. Where was he? If he had sent word as to his return, no one had shared it with her.

“I am not goin’ to sit outside,” Seamus grumbled. “I am a sick man.”

“The sun and fresh air will do you well,” Kate said firmly. “Sitting up in the room all day isn’t good for you.”

“I will catch my death.”

“That is what you said about the bath, and it did not do you any harm.” Kate put her hand on her hip and bent down to look him in the eye. “You have nothing to fear. Have I given you any reason?”

“Nay, ye have not.”

“If you are going to die, you might as well do so outside in the sunshine as opposed to lying in bed.”

Kate could see Seamus’s pride was stung as he allowed himself to be carried on a litter out of doors. He could not have made the short trip from his room to the garden alone. Merta was busy bustling about, making sure he had a quilt to cover himself should he have a desire.

True to her word, Merta had a fence erected around the herb garden with a small gate located near the keep wall. Pleased to be in a garden again, Kate carefully placed the soil around the new plants while Seamus watched her work.

“’Tis much like when my wife, Elizabeth, and I would steal a quiet moment. She would be in the garden and I would seek her out for a bit of talk. She had a sweet lilting voice, a gentle opinion. I learned early in our relationship, she had a sharp mind. I would be a fool to let male pride prevent me from gainin’ through her wisdom.” Seamus looked out to the hills and sighed. “I miss her. Ye remind me of her. Ye have a quick wit about ye. Tell me somethin’ about yerself.”

“Oh, there is not much to tell. My mother was good to me. I grew up in York. Really, not much.” Kate focused on the plant she was potting. She didn’t raise her eyes.

What could she tell him? She had been married? Her husband was a selfish brute? He reveled in the pain he caused her? That he was dead?

“What about those plants yer workin’ there? Tell me about those,” Seamus said, changing the subject.

“Each one has a reason. Each herb does something for or against the body.”

“Ye learned this from yer mother? She has taught ye well.”

Kate’s face grew warm. “I have tried. The knowledge has been passed down from many generations of women to their daughters.”

Kate moved to the small lean-to next to the garden. Merta had it erected so Kate could eventually hang the herbs for drying and curing. There, she worked with each batch of seedlings, preparing them for planting.

“I enjoy working with plants. They respond to my care. I’m happiest when I am caring for something, or someone.” She beamed at Seamus.

Seamus winked at her. He closed his eyes and dozed in the warm sun, his long, grey hair lifted by the occasional breeze.

Kate found more plants in the old herb garden survived than she initially believed. Tiny leaves of Jacob’s ladder and Coltsfoot leaf were poking through the soil as she cleaned the debris and dead matter away, thrilled with her find. Other young plants were growing as well, and she was able to identify most of the young shoots. Some others she would have to let mature before she could determine what the plant was and if it had any uses to her. She wasn’t sure what had initially been planted in the garden, as Merta could not tell her. Kate eagerly looked forward to any new discoveries.

One sunny morning Seamus was out in the garden visiting with Kate.

“Kate, lass, ye told me ye were a prisoner,” he said softly.

Kate’s head came up from her work and she studied the old man’s eyes. Not seeing any guile there, she believed he did not know the facts surrounding her current situation. Apparently no one had informed him of the ransom plan. Yet, she did not want to agitate her patient, so she tried to choose her words and tone carefully but directly.

“Yes, I did say I was a prisoner and I currently remain as such,” she said softly. “I was brought here against my will. I am being held for ransom.”

Startled, Seamus struggled to rise from his chair. Kate dropped her hoe and hurried to his side. She placed her hand gently on his uninjured shoulder, preventing him from falling. She eased him back to his seat.

“You will start bleeding again, m’lord. Rest easy,” Kate soothed.

Seamus barked. “The devil, ye say. What’s going on under my very nose?”

“I’ll explain. You must promise not to try to stand again. You don’t want to cause injury to yourself. You mustn’t hurt yourself.”

Seamus nodded reluctantly. He motioned for Kate to hurry her explanation.

“I don’t know the history regarding the conflict. From what I have been told, I am to remain here until the ransom has been paid by my husband,” Kate hedged. “I am not sure how long I will remain.”

Kate did not explain that her husband was dead and no ransom was forthcoming. She wasn’t sure what Shane’s reaction would be when he returned from England. She didn’t know for sure he had gone to her former home to collect the ransom but she could guess. Shane’s continued absence left her somewhat perplexed. She knew if he had gone to England it would be only a matter of time before her secret was revealed. Perhaps she should be making plans to leave this place. Perhaps she should leave before Shane returned. She was also somewhat surprised at Seamus’s question. No one had told him. She had been so busy tending to Seamus as well as the garden she had not thought of her plight recently. Although, she did not want to think of it, Seamus’s question did remind her something must be decided upon. Yet she didn’t feel she could leave Seamus.

Seamus appeared to be mulling over her statement, his brows pressed together in a frown. “And who is this husband that has yet to come for his wife?”

Kate hesitated with her answer but felt she must respond rather than delay and cause further anxiety to the old laird. “My married name is Colquhoun,” she replied, hesitant to see his reaction.

Seamus roared.

Merta came running, still wiping her hands dry on her skirt. When she got to the edge of the gardens, she saw Seamus struggling to stand with Kate beside him.

“Merta. Iain,” Seamus hollered the whole while. “I’ll be knowin’ what ‘tis goin’ on here and now.”

Hot tears streamed down Kate’s face, her hair falling from the silk caul that held it atop her head. She felt the weight slip down onto her shoulders.

She lifted the old man up since he seemed determined to run from her presence. She did not blame him. If she learned the enemy had been nursing her, giving her various potions to drink, and using knives to cut on her, she too would be struggling for freedom. She did her best to bring about his recovery. She would never knowingly hurt him or anyone.

“Seamus, I would never hurt you.” Kate scrubbed the tears from her face. His reaction upon learning she was the enemy devastated her. She had grown to care very much for the old laird and looked upon him as a kindly father and friend.

Merta reached the two of them just as Seamus gained his feet. His gaze darted about, as if he were looking for someone in particular. The color suddenly drained from his face and his legs weakened. His knees gave out on him. Merta and Kate guided his fall into his chair. Merta motioned to two young men standing there with their mouths open, watching the whole scene.

“Aye, lads, shut yer mouths and help us. Ye each grab an end and take himself to his chambers. We’re right behind ye.”

Merta and Kate followed the men as they carried Seamus up to his room.

Seamus yelled, “Shane. Shane. Where ye be, lad? I wanna explanation. Under my own roof.”

Merta tried to explain. “Seamus, Shane is not here. He’s gone to England.”

They finally entered his room and the men lifted him into his bed. Seamus quieted down, and Merta gave him a sip of water. He allowed Kate to check his bandages for signs the wounds had begun to bleed again. Satisfied none of the injuries were disturbed too badly, Kate left the room with Merta following.

Kate wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “I am so very sorry. I was surprised he. . . I thought surely someone had. . . Who could blame him for . . .?” she cried, choking back a sob.

Merta stopped Kate and put her arms around her.

“Ssh, wee lass,” Merta whispered. “Slow yerself down. Breathe.”

Kate hiccupped in several breaths and tried to calm herself but it was too much. Her nerves were frayed to the breaking point. She twisted the cloth in her hand. It seemed she was truly on her own. Kate felt her knees buckle but was helpless to stop them.

Merta kept her arms around Kate as she walked her back to her room. In no time, she had her sitting in front of a low fire with a cup of tea in her hand.

While warm outside, the castle was still cool. Kate, in her upset, had gotten a chill. She held the hot cup with both hands to warm them. Merta fussed with a blanket, tucking it around her as Kate composed herself. Merta sat on a nearby footstool while Kate told her what had happened. She listened quietly, placing her hand on Kate’s shoulder when, in relating the story, she began to cry again.

“Aye,” Merta began. “I can see how himself was taken a back a bit, m’lady. Was a shock to hear the name again, coming from yer mouth, too, with him so fond of ye. Shane should have told him, but with himself in no fit condition to hear it, ‘tis no wonder he dinna. I’ll be explaining to him and it will be fine. Dinna be fretting now. Just relax here for a bit and I’ll check on him.”

Merta stood up and patted Kate’s shoulder. “Rest easy now and I’ll be right back. No worries. This will work out in the end,” she said with a wink.

Kate couldn’t help a weak smile as she watched Merta cross the room and quietly open the door. Merta turned and winked again as she stepped out into the hallway. She gave Kate a smile and closed the door.

Kate wept again, amazed at how quickly she had become attached to Seamus. She had begun to feel at home here in spite of the being kidnapped. But truly, kidnapped from what? She had no home, no money, no one to care about her. Except Smithers, and where was he?

Shane had been a surprise. She enjoyed his company. There was a funny little flutter in her stomach whenever he was around. He made her laugh, he made her heart wobble.

She had received kind treatment since she’d arrived. No one had treated her poorly, and most accepted her presence comfortably.

Her success with Seamus had certainly made her favorable among the clan. Strange as it seemed, she was one of them. Still, Seamus’s reaction had startled her. Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes. She felt so alone and overwhelmed. So much had happened in such a short time.

Merta returned. “I talked with himself and he is nigh on asleep. I told him as much as I know and he wanted to talk with Shane. I reminded him again Shane had gone and that he dinna say when he would return.”