To Tempt Highland Fate (The Mac Coinnach Brothers) (40 page)

             
His smile fell away.  “Wi’ that man in there?  I dinna think so.”

             
“Of course… that way I can watch him during the night.  Though I don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon.”  She threw her gaze to Maura, and a kind of understanding dawned in the other woman’s eyes.

             
“Aye, James, let her sleep in there with the man.  We’ll be only paces away… and I
miss
ye”, she said with a saucy tilt of her lips.

             
Willa saw her brother’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken as he looked at his wife, and she quickly excused herself for bed, hiding her smile.  She turned at the door to give Maura a conspiratorial wink.  Shutting the door behind her, she went to the bed and kneeled down beside the unconscious man.  In the soft yellow candlelight, the deathly pallor of his skin was replaced with the golden glow that she imagined was his natural color, and she was struck anew by his hard, masculine beauty.  The longer she looked, the more she could not help herself… she had to touch him.  Besides, Maura said that touch was healing, and he was definitely in need of some healing.  Lowering the blanket just a little, she ran her hand up the powerful muscles of his arm, and across the solid planes of his chest, skirting the wound down the length of his left side.  The soft smoothness of his skin over all that hardness felt good beneath her fingertips.  If he lived, he would have a deep scar, much larger than the many smaller lines and ridges scattered over his body.  The man had seen many battles.  Again she wondered at how he had come to be alone up in the mountains, left for dead.  Already, in her mind at least, he could not have done anything to deserve to die like that. 

             
She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, then smiled.  “I don’t know who you are or what kind of man, but as long as you’re asleep in my bed, you belong to me.”

             
She thought his next breath was just a little deeper, but perhaps it was only her hopeful imagination.  In her short lifetime, she had seen many men die, but somehow she wanted more than anything for this one to live.

Chapter
4

              Drust awoke slowly, finally grasping onto full consciousness after days of drifting just to the surface and back, aware of only dim impressions of light or dark, voices or silence.  He hurt.  His entire body ached, and there was a burning pain in his side.  He tried to move, to at least sit up and see where he was, but the pain washed over him and he closed his eyes for a moment until it passed.  When he opened them again, he could see a ceiling of thatch above him, and noticed for the first time that there was daylight.  So he wasn’t in the cave anymore; that was something.  He carefully turned his head, and his vision swam for a moment before slowly clearing again.  He saw whitewashed walls, and a fire burning low in a stone hearth.  The light was coming from a window, and the angle told him it was early evening, almost dusk.  He was clearly in a building, but how had he gotten here?  Certainly he couldn’t have made it on his own, not with the amount of blood he must have lost.  He shuddered at the memory of its sticky warmth seeping through his fingers.  Of knowing he was a dead man, but forcing himself to keep walking, keep moving through the dark tunnel, just for the chance to meet his end under the open sky.  When he had finally seen a light, he didn’t know if he had reached the opening of the tunnel or if he had died.  It must have been daylight he saw, because he hurt far too much to be dead now.

             
Closing his heavy eyelids, he remembered dreaming again and again of a woman, looking down on him, watching over him.  He had wanted to reach for her, but he couldn’t lift his arms.  Or perhaps it hadn’t been a dream, after all.  He was in
someone’s
cottage, and from what he could see, it wasn’t at all familiar.  His vision was swimming again, his eyes closing.  His body was running hot and then cold, and he suspected fever was setting in.  He probably wouldn’t survive a fever, as weak as he already was.  God, how he hated to be so weak and helpless! Although he struggled to remain conscious just a little while longer, Drust soon drifted back into deep, healing sleep.

***

             
Willa opened the door to her bedroom and peered inside.  He was still asleep.  She frowned, worried; she had expected him to wake by now, at least for a moment or two.  He had been lying motionless in her bed for two days, and it was yet another since she had found him in the mountains. She went to the bed and laid her hand against the man’s forehead.  He still burned with the fever that had come on last night, but he was perhaps not quite so hot as he was a few hours ago.  She allowed herself a little hope that he would yet survive.  She reached for the cup and rag that she had left beside the bed, and proceeded to drip water between his lips, as she had been doing every hour during the day, and several times during the night as well.  He swallowed the water, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.  Another good sign.

             
The door swung open and Maura came in, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.  “Has he still no’ wakened?”  Her forehead wrinkled in concern.

             
Willa shook her head.  “No, but he’s taking more water than before.  And I think his fever is less.  Well, it’s not worse anyway.  He’s so strong, Maura.  Any other man wouldn’t have lived even this long.”

             
Maura touched a hand to his forehead as Willa had done earlier.  Aye, I think yer right, he’s not quite so warm as he was this morning.  But if his fever is going to break soon, we should perhaps tie him down somehow.  He could thrash about and re-open the wound.  It’s only just started to heal.  He willna ken where he is, and he may no’ even remember what happened to him.”  All business, she pulled back the thin linen sheet that covered the naked man in Willa’s bed.  “I’ve just made another poultice, so let’s put on a fresh dressing first.”

             
Maura carefully removed the bandages and both women leaned over to examine the frightful gash in his side, extending from his navel nearly to his shoulder. As they had done every time they looked at the ugly wound, the two women grimaced and made identical sounds of horrified sympathy.  “It’s a wonder he survived long enough for ye to find him, Willa.  This could easily have been a fatal wound.  In fact it
should
have been a fatal wound.”

             
“It isn’t his first.”  Willa traced a long scar across his chest with her finger.  He had many such marks on his body.  “He’s seen quite a few battles, I’d wager.”

             
“Aye.  It seems he’s been a verra lucky man.  Or a verra skilled one.”

             
Willa smoothed the thick poultice on the wound, and together they bound it in fresh strips of linen.  Then Maura went to fetch a length of rope, and they tied the man securely to the bed frame so that he couldn’t injure himself.

             
“This is it then”, Maura said.  “Either this fever breaks, or…”

             
“It will”, Willa finished with all the conviction she wanted to feel. For some reason, it was essential to her that this man live, even though she did not know him, and he had never so much as spoken to her.  Not yet, anyway.  What would his voice be like? 
Would
he remember what had happened to him?  She had so many questions…

             
They left him then, to do the evening chores and to have some dinner.  James came in just as they were putting the food on the table.  A simple meal of roast hare with root vegetables and some bread. 

             
“Roof is finished… stable repaired.  Ladies, I declare this place fit to live in.”  He sat down.  “And I’m famished!”

             
Maura piled some food onto his plate.  “Aye, ye should be.  Ye’ve been working all day and barely stopped for lunch.”

             
“Well, the roof had to be done if we’re to stay dry.”

             
Willa finished slicing the bread she and Maura had managed to bake in the hearth’s little oven, and sat down across from her brother.  “How long will we stay here, James?  What do we do next?”  She took a bite of bread.  Even with no butter, it was good.  “We need to find someone who will help us.  I don’t know much at all about local politics… did Father have any allies?”

             
“Few and far between.  But then, I wasna privy to much.  Perhaps he did, though I doubt they would give much thought to his bastard son.”

             
Willa frowned at him.  She knew her brother was just stating the truth, but it stung her that he was forced to think of himself that way, when she did not, and never would.  James was ten times the man their father was.  “You’re not a bastard James.  Everyone knows that was a vindictive lie meant to destroy your mother.  No one believes it.”

             
“My sister will be wed soon”, Maura said.  “There will be men in positions of power among the guests.  We might start there…”

             
“Aye, we might”, James agreed with a sigh.  “I was thinking the same thing myself.  It willna be easy to rally the other clans to our aid.  We have nothing to give in return except our alliance in battle, and I dinna even ken how many men there are left to us.  Our wealth is tied up in our people and our land, we have no gold to entice...”

             
“You have me”, Willa said suddenly.  “I’m still not wed… and I have a dowry.  Well, at least I did.”  She could not believe the words were coming out of her mouth, but if it saved their home…

             
“No”, James said with more than a little force.  “I willna force ye to wed a man ye dinna love.  Never.”

             
“But if it’s the only way, I would do it James, I…”

             
“No! And that’s my last word on the matter.”

             
The rest of the meal passed in virtual silence.

              Later, when James and Maura had retired for the night, Willa slipped into the room she shared with her patient and laid down on her pallet on the floor.  She listened to him breathing across the room, deep and steady.  She smiled with relief.  He was recovering better than she would have ever expected.  Already his heart rate had evened out and his color improved, though he was still pale.  If the fever broke soon, he would surely survive.  She wondered yet again who he was, and what sort of man he would prove to be.  Would he be kind and grateful for their help?  She liked to think so, because it didn’t seem right that such a handsome man would have a mean spirit.  Besides, she had had enough of that for a lifetime with her father and then Colm.  Though she tried not to think of it, she knew she was not out of danger.  As safe and as cozy as this little cottage was, the real world was still out there, and Colm would still try to take her back if he could.  The warrior in her bed looked like the sort of man who could defend her.  He looked as if when he was well he would be able to fight and keep her safe from everyone and everything.  How nice that would be, to have someone to protect her and… and, oh God, she was getting all feminine and mushy, something she had always tried to avoid. Only… in her current state of mind, to be possessed by a strong man who would take away her worries and let her just live… it didn’t seem half so bad.  Willa fell asleep and dreamed of the warrior slaying Colm and then making her his... in every way possible.