The Highlander Takes a Bride (17 page)

“That or ye realized she has a fou’ temper and is as like to beat ye as look at ye, do ye tweak her temper,” Alick suggested entering now as well.

“I did no’ shoot me wife with an arrow,” Greer said grimly and scowled suspiciously at Rory when he moved to the door and stopped Niels and Conran as they would have entered. After murmuring to the two men briefly, both Niels and Conran turned and rushed away.

“Look at him, lads,” Aulay growled impatiently, capturing Greer’s attention again. “He has a sword but no bow or quiver. Besides, he’s fair distraught. He did no’ do this.”

“Thank ye,” Greer said dryly, and then roared, “Now will one o’ ye go find Helen to aid me wife ere she bleeds to death?”

“No need,” Aulay said soothingly. “Rory’s tending to her.”

“What?” Greer glanced around to see that Rory was at the bedside, bent over his wife. Alarm racing through him, he hurried to grab the man’s arm and pull him away from her. “What the devil are ye doing? Ye’re like to do more damage. Let her be. Helen’ll tend her.”

“Leave him, MacDonnell,” Aulay said firmly, pulling him away from the other man. “Rory kens what he’s doing. He trained with our healer at Buchanan.”

Frowning, Greer tugged his arm free. “Fine but I’m no’ leaving her.”

“Nay. O’ course no’. But at least move out of the way so Rory has room to work,” Aulay said quietly.

Greer almost refused, but recognized the sense in the suggestion and gave a grudging nod. He then moved quickly around the bed to Alpin’s side. But he wasn’t happy about it. Half the bed and Alpin were now between him and his wife.

“I got yer satchel,” Niels announced, rushing back into the room.

“Thank ye.” Rory accepted the bag and set it on the bed. He began to pull out weeds and tinctures, and then suddenly paused to hand a bottle to Niels. “When Conran returns, put six drops of this in the water I sent him to fetch.”

Niels nodded as he took the bottle. “Six drops. Aye.”

“Six drops what?” Conran asked, rushing into the room with linens and a bowl of water he was sloshing everywhere in his rush.

Shaking his head, Greer turned his attention back to Rory in time to see that he was quickly cutting away the cloth of Saidh’s gown around the arrow, baring her breast and the arrow shaft that stuck out of it. Greer stared at the wound, concern seeping through him, then glanced down to Alpin when the boy sucked in a deep breath and then let it out again on the word, “Pretty.”

Noting that Alpin’s gaze was fixed on Saidh’s exposed breast, he scowled and slapped a hand over the boy’s eyes. He then scowled at the seven Buchanan brothers now ranged around the bed also staring at Saidh’s naked breast.

“Stop gawking at yer sister’s duckies,” he growled, using the term he’d now heard both Saidh and Alpin use in reference to breasts.

“She’s our sister,” Dougall pointed out with disgust. “We’re looking at her wound, no’ her teat.”

“Aye,” Geordie agreed. “Besides, ’tis nothing we’ve no’ seen before. We all used to swim naked in the loch at Buchanan.”

“She did,” Niels agreed. “Mind ye, she was twelve the last time she joined us. Our ma put an end to it after that.”

“Aye, and she was flat as a sword then,” Alick commented.

“Hmmm,” Dougall murmured in agreement. Pursing his lips, he then shook his head. “Who’d ha’e thought she’d grow into such a fine figure o’ a woman? Eh?”

“Aye. She was a scrawny child,” Aulay said with fond reminiscence. “She did fill out nicely though. Makes a maun proud to call her sister.”

“Get out, the lot o’ ye!” Greer snapped furiously.

“We’re no’ going anywhere,” Dougall snarled.

“This is me castle now,” Greer growled. “Get out!”

“We’re staying right here. She’s our sister,” Alick said defiantly.

“Aye, but she’s
my
wife,” he countered.

Geordie snorted at the claim. “She’s no’ been yer wife fer e’en a day yet.”

“He’s right,” Dougall said grimly. “Ye carry no weight with us when it comes to authority over Saidh. Ye’re lucky
we’re
letting
you
stay.”

Greer growled and lunged around the bed at the man. He’d barely grabbed him by the scruff when he found himself under a pile of Buchanan flesh.

It was pain in her chest that stirred Saidh to consciousness. She blinked her eyes open on a moan, only to immediately close them again as a new sharp pain shot through her, this time stabbing through her head as the light entered through her eyes.

“Sorry, lass. I had to break off the end of the arrow shaft.”

Saidh forced her eyes open again to stare at her brother blankly. “Rory?”

“Aye.”

“What—” She’d been about to ask what happened, but becoming aware of the shouting and thumping around her, asked instead, “What the devil is all that racket?”

“Just the boys helping yer husband work through his upset. He was muckle distraught,” Rory told her with an amused glance over his shoulder at the men rolling about on the floor. From what she could see it was six against one, but her brothers obviously weren’t trying to hurt him, else they’d be doing more than rolling around the floor piled on top of each other like some huge ball of yarn. Still, as surprising as she found what she was seeing, Rory’s words surprised her more.

“Greer? Distraught?” she asked dubiously.

“Aye.” Rory smiled. “I think he has feelings fer ye, Saidh. He was all but wringing his hands in distress and acting womanish.”

“Greer was?” she asked with amazement. “The big braugh man I married yesterday?”

“Aye,” Rory assured her as he bent to peer at the now shortened shaft in her breast. Saidh forgot about her husband when she took note of the arrow shaft protruding from her chest. The sight brought back to mind what had happened to her. She’d been racing back to the keep, determined to beat Greer to the stables, when it had felt as if someone punched her in the chest, hard enough that she’d been thrown back and lost her seating. She’d spied the arrow as she tumbled from the saddle, and then she’d hit the ground head first and pain had exploded through her skull. She didn’t recall anything after that until waking here.

“Damn. Someone shot me with an arrow,” she muttered with dismay.

“Aye.” Rory paused and peered at her solemnly. “Did ye see who ’twas?”

Saidh shook her head. “I had just left Greer by the loch pleating his plaid. I was racing to beat him back to the castle so was keeping a sharp eye on the trail ahead to be sure my mare was no’ injured.” She frowned. “I saw no one. I did no e’en realize what had happened when I was first hit. I only knew when I saw the arrow as I fell.”

“Hmmm.” Rory looked disappointed and she couldn’t blame him. She was rather disappointed herself that she couldn’t name who had shot her.

“How bad is it?” she asked with concern as she eyed the wound. There didn’t appear to be a lot of blood, just a bit slowly seeping out around the arrow. That would no doubt change once the missile was removed, she thought, and then glanced sharply at Rory. “Ye broke off the tip o’ the shaft.”

“Aye,” he admitted mildly.

“Ye’re thinking to push it the rest o’ the way through rather than pull it out the way it went in?” she asked with dismay.

“Saidh.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hands in his. “The arrow near went through on its own. The tip is poking against the skin o’ yer back. One quick shove and it should pop out the back and be easily retrieved.”

Feeling the sweat of fear begin to push its way out of her body, Saidh almost begged when she said, “But can ye no’ just pull it gently out the way it went in?”

“I could,” he allowed, “But I risk doing more damage, especially if the arrowhead is a swallowtail design, and since we do no’ ken who shot ye, or what sort o’ arrow they used, I’d rather no’ risk it.”

“Bloody hell,” Saidh muttered, recognizing that what he said was true. If it was a swallowtail arrowhead, the barbs might catch on something coming out and do serious damage. It would be like pulling two hooks through her body, hoping it came out at the exact same angle as it went in . . . which wasn’t likely.

Breathing out an unhappy sigh, she started to shift in an effort to sit up, but paused when agony immediately shot through her. She took a moment to let the agony pass, and then glanced to Rory. He stood waiting patiently, knowing her well enough to not offer aid until she asked for it. Saidh had always got cranky with her brothers when they’d tried to help before she admitted she needed it. She didn’t like it when they treated her as weaker than them just because she was female.

“Ye’ll need to help me sit up,” she said quietly.

Rory let out a little relieved breath, his body relaxing, which was when she realized he’d been tense as he waited. He also then bent to help her sit up.

Once sitting, Saidh could better see what was going on at the foot of the bed. Most of the men were still rolling around on the ground, but two were now rolling around on their own, cupping their groins. Three were, she corrected herself silently as Geordie suddenly rolled free of the pileup with a groan of pain. It seemed Greer had taken lessons from watching her, she thought with amusement as he and Aulay and Dougall continued their struggle.

And her brothers were treating him as gently as they did her, she noted with affection. She would have to thank them for that later, Saidh thought. She had no fear that her husband couldn’t take care of himself, and she didn’t think he needed her brothers to go lightly on him, but she was glad that they were. It was a sign that they liked him.

“Ready?” Rory asked.

Saidh shifted her attention to her brother. He was seated on the side of the bed, apparently ready to push the arrow the rest of the way through her body. When she nodded, he lifted a piece of linen he’d folded several times and with it in the palm of his hand, pressed the linen against the broken tip of the shaft and then began to push on the arrow. Saidh couldn’t help it, she immediately began to bellow in pain and instinctively leaned back away from his efforts.

“Saidh!” Greer roared and was suddenly on his feet, shaking off her brothers like a dog shaking off water. Charging to the bed, he knocked Rory to the floor, bellowing, “What the devil are ye doing to her?”

“ ’Tis all right, husband,” Saidh said weakly, and then paused to savor the word. Husband. He was her husband.

“ ’Tis no’ all right. He’s supposed to be mending ye, no’ injuring ye further,” Greer snarled, glaring at Rory as he got to his feet.

“He is,” Saidh said quickly, recalled to the situation. “The barbs on the arrow could cause damage they avoided when the arrow went in. ’Tis safer to to push the arrow out rather than pull it back the way it came.”

Greer relaxed a little, but didn’t look happy. Dropping onto the side of the bed, he peered at the arrow shaft with disgruntlement, and shook his head. “I ken ye’re probably right and it has to be done, but . . .” He swallowed and met her gaze, expression helpless. “I do no’ like the idea o’ anyone hurting ye. E’en fer yer own good.”

“Trust me, I’m none too pleased meself,” she said with a crooked smile, and then cleared her throat and said, “Mayhap ye could help and hold me still while he does it? ’Tis instinct to pull back when he pushes. ’Twill go faster and less painful do ye help keep me in place while he does it.”

“O’ course,” Greer murmured and then hesitated, looking unsure how best to help with that.

“We can help too,” Aulay said quietly.

Greer gave himself a shake and then seemed to regather his wits. Glancing to her eldest brother, he nodded. “Aye. Aulay, if ye could get behind her shoulder on this side and brace her so she can’t back away.”

Nodding, Aulay moved up to the head of the bed and placed his hands firmly on Saidh’s uninjured shoulder.

Greer then turned his gaze to the other men, but settled on her second oldest brother, Dougall, as he said, “Dougall, if ye’d kneel behind Alpin on the bed and help brace her other shoulder . . .” He didn’t bother finishing, Alpin had already sat up to shift out of the way and Dougall was even now climbing to kneel half behind the boy and half behind Saidh. Placing his hands carefully on her upper arm and back, Dougall nodded that he was ready.

“Good, then I’ll hold her about the waist and—” Greer had slid his arms around her as he spoke, but paused and glanced around uncertainly as he realized there was no way Rory could get at her to push the arrow through with him on the side of the bed.

“ ’Tis all right. I can straddle her,” Rory said quickly, and did just that, climbing onto the bed and moving to straddle Saidh’s lap on the bed.

“We’ll hold her legs so she does no’ kick ye off to stop ye,” Geordie announced and the rest of the brothers bent over the bed to grab her legs and feet to hold them in place.

“Good, good,” Greer muttered and slid his arms around Saidh again, careful to keep his upper chest enough to the side that he didn’t risk bumping the shaft sticking out of her chest, or blocking Rory’s ability to do what he needed to do. Once he had Saidh in a firm embrace, he pulled his head back enough to see her face. “Ready?”

Saidh glanced at all the men surrounding her. Men she loved, all there to keep her still, and gave a weak laugh. “Do ye really think ye need seven strong men to hold down little me?”

“Eight,” Alpin corrected drawing everyone’s attention to the fact that he now knelt at her side, one small hand on her back, the other just above Greer’s arm on her front . . . pretty much cupping the bottom of her injured breast.

“Lad, ye’d best move yer hand else ye might lose it,” Aulay said with amusement as Greer growled deep in his throat.

Flushing, the boy quickly shifted his hand to rest between her breasts, muttering, “Sorry.”

Aulay nodded and then turned his gaze to Saidh and said, “As fer needing so many to hold ye down, love. We ken yer strength. We’ve wrestled with ye.”

“Aye,” Geordie said dryly. “Yer powerful strong when yer blood’s up, Saidh. ’Tis best we take precautions.”

“Hmm,” Saidh muttered and shook her head.

“Put yer arms around me and try to keep them there,” Greer instructed. When she did, he added, “Scream all ye want to, love. Ye’ve a right to.”