Every Heart Has Its Day (3 page)

BOOK: Every Heart Has Its Day
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“We must find the strength.” Kasey knelt, slipped an arm under the man’s shoulders, and pulled him to a sitting position. “Help me lift him to his feet.”

After they got him upright, the two women dragged him as far as their backs allowed, then eased him to the ground. Kasey straightened and let the drizzle cool her brow. Like the sky, she wanted to weep for they had gained little distance. “Dear God, help us.”

“What in God’s teeth do ye cummers think ye be doing?”

Kasey swung around. The young man did not appear strong enough to carry the injured alone, but he could certainly help. “Please, sir, we must get this man to shelter.”

He edged closer.

“Pray be quick aboot it.” His grin infuriated her. How could he be so callous?

After the man’s gaze moved from her to the injured man, his expression darkened, his pace quickened. To Kasey’s surprise, he slung Randall’s prey over his shoulder.

The women led him to the cottage and stood back as he kicked open the door. After he dropped the injured man on a raised pallet, Kasey rushed to assess the injuries.

“I demand ye tell me—”

“There be no time. Evonne, run and get the healer. I shall do what I can until he arrives.”

“Be ye not Lady Kasey Cameron?”

At her nod, he flew into a litany of curses.

Kasey ignored him. She found clean linens in a trunk near the bed and tore them into strips. She attempted to prop up the man to remove his tunic, but his weight proved too great. “Dinna just stand there shouting at the walls while yer clansman dies. Help me remove his shirt.”

“Touch my brother no more. While we wait for the king’s healer, ye will tell me all that has happened.”

Kasey leapt to her feet and poked the man in the chest. “The healer be a lame old man. Rather than stand idly aboot, either help me or dig yer brother’s grave.”

“I would rather put Hunter into God’s hands than yers. A Cameron canna be trusted to tend a sick goat.” He glared. “Did ye or yer lady’s maid inflict these wounds?”

“Do ye see a sword?”

The man’s face paled as he looked at his brother. She took pity and softened her tone. “Please, remove his shirt and brace him up so I may see his back.”

After he did as she asked, Kasey gasped at the sight of the man’s chest. Gently, she pressed the angry bruise and found two cracked ribs. Randall must have kicked him when he was down.

His worst injuries proved Randall had struck from behind. The abundance of minor wounds attested to the coward’s cruelty—he had wished this man a slow, painful death.

“I need fresh water. Will ye fetch it?”

He agreed after gaining Kasey’s promise to do naught in his absence. She assured him she could not handle the man alone and would search the cottage for soap and medicines.

By the time he returned, the injured man had paled considerably. Kasey straightened at the sound of her mother’s voice, “Trust yer gifts.” She closed her eyes and saw the man gravely ill with fever. The vision flashed to him weak, but well, in the throne room.

The slam of the door broke her trance.

“I be sorry, milady. The healer went to aid another and be not expected to return for days.” Evonne gulped in air as she pushed wet hair from her face. “I brought yer potions.”

Reassured by her mother’s words and her clear, promising vision, she vowed the man would not die. “Evonne, ye must hand me what I need. Ye,” she paused. “What be yer name, sir?”

“Gavin, milady.”

“Gavin, turn yer brother over, and then start a fire.”

As rain poured and thunder roared, all those in the hunter’s cottage attended to their assigned duties. After knotting the last stitch in the head wound, Kasey leaned back to stretch her tired muscles. As she again threaded the needle, Evonne gagged. “Take a deep breath. I need ye to wipe away the blood.”

“Nay. I shall help ye.”

Kasey smiled at the tenderness in Gavin’s eyes as he gently lifted Evonne to her feet and nudged her toward the door. “Fresh air will settle ye.”

Then he glowered at Kasey. “Ye dinna give Hunter a sleeping potion? Be ye so heartless ye wish him to feel every prick of the needle?”

She took a deep breath. Losing her patience would serve little purpose. “Ye ken much aboot healing, Gavin?” At his silent denial she continued, “I have seen men with lesser head wounds never wake after drinking a sleeping concoction. I be unwilling to take the risk.”

She sewed the slash that ran from Hunter’s left shoulder blade to his right hip, then asked Gavin to lift his brother’s upper body.

As she applied salve and fresh linen, she desperately tried to ignore the sleek muscles and bronzed skin beneath the gashes. Had Gavin not been watching like a hawk, she might have heeded the urge to stroke Hunter’s chest.

Determined to keep her mind on the task at hand, she wrapped Hunter’s ribs. Had she more time, she would soak the wide linen strips in a boiled comfrey root to speed healing.

But time was a luxury. Would Randall seek her out? Would an army of Mackintoshes search for the brothers? She must leave before they arrived.

“Ye may lay him down now.” She ran her hands along each of Hunter’s arms. The corded muscles, firm under her pressure, made it difficult to feel the bones beneath. She prayed the minor bruises and lack of swelling meant his limbs remained intact.

She cleaned mud from his hands and marvelled that his made hers looked like a child’s. She smiled at the bruises on his knuckles. “At least ye fought back.”

“Lady Cameron?”

“Gavin?” Kasey turned.

“I dinna hear ye.” He bent to wrap a plaid around Evonne’s shoulders.

Though he addressed her, his eyes never left Evonne. The way he dried her locks soothed Kasey’s soul.

“Ye need not worry,” Evonne said.

Kasey sighed. Had any other heard her praise an enemy for fighting one of her own she would fear the consequences, but Evonne would never betray her.

A groan drew Kasey’s attention back to Hunter. She had but one more task. His legs. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength as she reached for his trews. The waistband of the tight-fitting breeches slipped several times from her trembling hands.

“Have ye never seen a man’s bare bottom, healer?”

Kasey shook her head.

“Move aside, milady.”

She did as he bade. “After removing the garment, please put a blanket over his lower half.”

She searched her dorlach. If her vision proved correct, she would need many herbs and plants. If she lacked just one, the result could be deadly.

“Ye may look now, Lady Cameron.”

As she turned around, Gavin flipped the plaid up, revealing Hunter’s lower body.

“Och!” She spun away.

Gavin raised a brow. “I canna believe it. A Cameron of yer advanced summers be an innocent?”

Kasey thought her face must surely be as red as the Mackintosh plaid. “Ye be...” She bit her tongue.

“Aye, milady?”

She waved her hand and knelt next to Hunter. She slid her hands under the blanket and carefully, so as to touch naught else, glided her hands along his legs. Hard thighs and muscular calves hid the bones, but he had no obvious swelling. His skin was dry and surprisingly soft. She checked her hands after pulling them from beneath the blanket. Not a tinge of red.

“Will ye leave now that ye staunched the bleeding?” Gavin asked.

So many things could go awry. Hunter could remain in a deep sleep. He could pull open the stitches and bleed anew. Worst of all, he could develop the fever foretold in her vision.

“Evonne, ye must return. Should anyone seek me, tell them I have taken ill and wish not to be disturbed.” Kasey despised lying, but she had no choice.

“But, milady, ye have risked too much already.” Evonne reached for Kasey’s hand. “I ken ye be dedicated to yer gift, but must ye ruin the rest of yer life?”

“Please do as I ask.”

Ill-boding returned with a vengeance. She looked into Gavin’s brown eyes. “Hunter’s eyes? Be they light brown with gold flecks?”

He nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The day passed quickly though Kasey did naught but watch Hunter’s chest rise and fall. He showed neither signs of fever nor hint of waking.

“Milady?” Gavin held out a bowl of rabbit stew.

“Where did ye get this?”

“I made it, milady.”

“I be glad ye can cook. We would starve if we depended on my skills.” Though she had little appetite, she ate what she could in hopes her trust would gain Gavin’s.

“He sleeps peacefully, milady.”

“If ye keep watch, I shall clean up.” She rose and stretched as Gavin sat by Hunter’s other side.

Had exhaustion not held her in its grasp, Gavin’s trembling hands might have amused her. “I shall be quick aboot it.”

“Mayhap ye should rest. We know not what night will bring.”

“I thank ye, but I shall keep vigil whilst ye lie down.” She completed her tasks and returned Hunter’s side. A short while later, as Gavin’s snores filled the lodge, Kasey touched Hunter’s cool brow. Mayhap foresight had misled her. No harm would come if she lay her head down for a few moments.

****

God’s teeth, his head hurt. Scores of thorns pricked his back. The pain in his side surged with every breath. He wiggled his toes. At least they did not hurt. His left hand moved freely, but aught heavy and soft weighed down his right.

Gossamer wings fluttered across his arm as he eased free. He pried open his eyes. Hair, not wings, covered the side of the pallet. He stroked the wavy chestnut threads streaked with auburn and gold.

When Kasey raised her head, he slid his hand to her cheek. He had waited so long to touch her.

She blinked a few times, then smiled.

“I have...” He cleared his throat. “I have died and gone to Heaven to have such a beautiful angel seated at my side.”

She laid her hand on his brow. “Ye feel cool. That bump must have addled yer mind.”

“Nay, milady.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

She pulled free. “Can ye sit up?”

“Mayhap with yer help.”

With a hand on his shoulder, she steadied him as he rolled up to his hip. Pain shot through his side. His vision darkened. Stars danced. Determined not to swoon, he held his breath and swung his feet to the floor.

“Mayhap you should lie down agin.”

“Nay.” He had waited too long to meet her. He would not let her think him weak.

She held out a goblet. “Gavin told me yer name be Hunter.”

Grateful that it relieved his parched throat, he gulped the broth. “I be called Hunter by those close to me.”

“Be ye in much pain?”

A hundred swords sliced him, but he focused on her knees touching his. “I have felt worse.”

“Then ye must have been thrown from yer keep’s tower or trampled by a herd of horses. Vervain would hasten yer mending.”

“Nay. I must keep my wits aboot me whilst I seek my attacker.”

“If ye rip out the threads, I shall be forced to let ye bleed to death.” She rose and crossed the room. “Once ye grow stronger, ye may do with the coward as ye please.”

“A Cameron attacked me. Do ye still call him coward?”

She shrugged, then bent to pick up her dorlach.

Hunter warmed to the view.

She ladled some water into a goblet. As she opened a pouch, Gavin appeared from the shadows and grabbed her wrist.

“Ye fool! I wish not to waste it on the floor when yer brother’s life may well depend on the wee bit I have.”

“Dinna ye claim it dangerous to give a potion to a man with a pummeled head? Have ye sewn him back together to have the thrill of killing him with drink?”

“Look into his eyes, Gavin. Can ye not see his pain? Now that he has awakened, the danger be past.” Her shoulders drooped. “I only wish to give him peace.”

“Eternal peace?”

“Can ye think of me as a healer, not a Cameron?”

Hunter cleared his throat, then nodded at his brother.

“Be sure ye dinna give him too much.”

After she handed Hunter the goblet, she smiled and brushed the hair from his brow. Her innocent touch seared his soul.

She studied him as he drank. When her gaze centered overlong on his nose, he vowed to someday even the score and break Gavin’s.

“Do ye like what ye see, Kasey?” Into the cup he mumbled, “I do.”

He reined his urge to laugh when she leapt from the chair.

“I be glad yer attacker dinna hurt yer face for there be little enough appeal in it.”

He chuckled, then winced. The drink made him drowsy, but he could not let this chance flee. “Yer eyes sparkle when ye be vexed.”

“Ye, sir, be a goat.”

“Mayhap, but ye might find shepherding this beast to yer liking.”

She growled, and then stormed out.

He smiled. She was more beautiful, had more spirit than he imagined. If only his body be whole.

“I beg ye, Hunter, for the clan’s sake, reconsider.”

“I be Hunter now?”

“Aye, whenever the lady be near.”

“Yer reason for this trickery, Gavin?”

“Yer protection, brother. ‘Touch not the cat, bot a glove.’”

Clan Chattan’s motto. “What say ye?”

Gavin glared. “Children of the cat allow no one close enough to do harm.”

“Ye consider Lady Kasey a threat?” Connor eased down to the pallet. “She be naught but a wee lass.”

“Her glove be the clan Cameron.”

“Nay, Gavin. My love will be her protection.” He closed his eyes. “Someday, ye, too, shall be the glove.”

“But no Cameron will capture my heart.”

Connor chuckled. How often had Gavin, claiming his duty to protect, pleaded to join his forays to the falls? More likely Gavin’s interest in Lady Kasey’s maid offered the true reason.

****

Kasey hoped the drizzle would cool her boiling blood to a slow simmer. She paced, trying to collect her thoughts. Why did this man bother her so? His nose bent in the middle, much like a falcon’s beak. She wondered who had managed to scale his fortress-like body to break it. His wavy, auburn hair was cut much too short, yet the style became him.

Stubborn and arrogant. She could see it in the set of his jaw. Determined, too, if Randall’s claim had merit. To think he had followed her to the falls on countless occasions. She did not know whether to be flattered or frightened.

She slumped onto a stump. He had few creases by his eyes or mouth, so he could not be much older than she. The way his feet hung over the end of the pallet, she supposed she would barely come up to his shoulders.

And, oh, his eyes. While the golden color appealed to her, his gaze made her stomach tumble like that of a child rolling joyfully down a hill.

Touching him brought a strange heat to an area where she had only known cramping each moon. Though not entirely unpleasant, she did not welcome the tingling. She would not welcome it. If, by some miracle, she captured his interest, he remained a Mackintosh. She must keep as much distance as possible between them, lest her heart be shattered.

Chilled to the bone, Kasey went back into the cabin, laid a log in the hearth, and poked at the embers. She removed her hard leather-soled hose and draped them over a stool to dry. She wrapped her cloak about her shoulders as she crossed the room and took her place by Hunter’s side.

“Fear not the flames.”

She looked at her charge. Though he no longer snored, he had not opened his eyes and breathed deeply, evenly. Gavin could not have spoken, for his snoring had not ceased. She squinted into the darkness. Next to the hearth floated a misty figure. Kasey blinked several times, but the form remained.

“Fire may ravage...”

Kasey cringed when a tongue of fire seared her back.

“...but fresh growth soon replaces its destruction.”

“Mother?”

“Have faith, Kasey.”

After the shape faded away, Kasey crept to the hearth. Her mother’s scent, like a rose garden in full bloom, lingered in the air. She remembered the Cameron lad who had sunk into madness, but she had not lost her wits. She was only exhausted. Yet sleep took its sweet time coming.

She had barely closed her eyes before violent shaking awakened her. She raised her head from Hunter’s pallet and touched his cheek. She sprang up and threw every cover she could find over his body. The mountain of plaids failed to quiet his chattering teeth.

Only one other course remained.

Kasey muttered a plea for forgiveness, then crawled under the blankets and lay along Hunter’s length. If her body heat did not warm him, she would tell Gavin to lie on the other side.

Hunter moaned, then rolled from his chest onto his uninjured side. Kasey offered no resistance as he pulled her head onto his upper arm and her body along his length. He draped his other arm across her waist and quieted.

His scent, a mixture of leather and pine, dandled her thoughts. The few hairs on his chest tickled her nose. His full lips, resting against her brow, heated more than the skin they touched. She tensed. This attraction could not take root. Though she sensed he would never harm her, he presented a very real danger to her heart.

She sighed. She lay in the arms of the most stirring man she had ever met. Why dinna she just enjoy it while it lasted?

****

Though she had not expected uninterrupted sleep, Hunter had stirred only once. After he had rolled onto his belly, Kasey sat up. Before her feet touched the floor, his strong, but gentle, hand caught her waist and tugged her to his side.

As a choir of birds welcomed the rising sun, she slipped from beneath the covers and shivered. Perspiration other than her own drenched her kirtle. She muttered a slew of unladylike curses as she prepared more vervain.

“Lady Cameron?”

She grabbed every pail and pot she could hold and thrust them at Gavin. “Fill these. And be quick aboot it!”

Unsure of what to do next, Kasey grasped the amulet at her neck. The warmth exuded by the ruby settled her mind. A fever that raged after vervain needed a more potent cure.

Dragon’s Breath! Named after the legendary fire-spewing beasts because of its burn, the potion never failed.

She dumped water and herbs into a pot, which she hung from a hook in the hearth to simmer until nightfall.

Come the morrow, she would apply the cooled potion, though she loathed the task. Those who dinna succumb to the cure’s scald shrieked pleas for a sleeping draught while she scraped away the thickened potion and festerings. She refused their requests because those who remained awake healed faster.

She did not wish to inflict more pain on Hunter, but the fever left her no choice. She said a quick prayer that he would survive until the morrow.

“What in blazes be that stench?”

Kasey glared at Gavin. “That be but a small price to pay for its benefits. Please set down the pails. I need yer help.”

Once again Gavin held up his brother while Kasey rebandaged Hunter’s chest wounds. Then she removed the bandage from Hunter’s back. The red, inflamed gash wept foul-smelling fluid. She cleaned the wound and laid a clean cloth over it.

The morning passed slowly. Gavin and Kasey took turns bathing Hunter’s brow with cooled rags. Each time he roused, they forced him to drink. When the fever addled his mind, Hunter thrashed about violently. Kasey attempted to restrain him once, but even in his weakened state, his strength posed too great a challenge. She left that chore to Gavin.

The second time chills racked Hunter’s body, Kasey asked Gavin to lie next to him. Hunter rewarded him with a punch to the nose. After Kasey tended his injury, Gavin grabbed the bow and some arrows. “I shall see about our evening fare.”

Kasey thanked him, then crawled onto the pallet. Hunter caressed her cheek. “I have waited so long. Too long.”

Who did his glazed eyes see? “Rest, Hunter.”

“Ye will stay with me.” He nuzzled her neck.

Chills coursed through her. “Until the fever eases.”

“Forever.”

Forever
. She could hope for no more than a day.

He suckled on her earlobe, then nibbled a trail down her neck. Warmth kindled to a full blaze when he kissed a path up her neck, drew back, and looked into her eyes.

The love in the depths of his gilded orbs sent her heart tapping like a woodpecker’s beak. She turned away. She had too much sense to believe he spoke to her.

Gentle fingers nudged her chin. “Look at me.”

Moisture stung her eyes. Her laird’s incessant barbs echoed in the niches of her mind. She was not worthy of this man, nor any other. A tear escaped.

He wiped away the drop with the pad of his thumb. “Fret not. We shall find a way.”

His breath feathered her lips. She moistened them with the tip of her tongue.

“Allow me.”

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