The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) (26 page)

Gasping, she whipped around to see him stagger under the weight of the man he carried over his shoulders. She recognized Struan’s boots and trews.

“Nay,” she cried, hurrying toward him, her heart clawing its way up her throat. “How bad?” she asked, leading Connor to an empty table that had just been scrubbed down.

“He has a gash across one shoulder, not too deep, and an arrow lodged in his thigh.” Connor laid Struan down as gently as possible. “I’m most concerned about a blow he took to the head. He’s been out cold since he fell, and we’ve not been able to rouse him.”

His expression filled with concern, he met her gaze. “I broke the shaft, but the arrowhead is still embedded in his leg. I didn’t want to risk taking it out, in case I caused more harm than good.” He stepped back and ran his sleeve across his forehead. “I fear the steel has pierced the bone. Could just be the tip, or it might be to the marrow.”

Sky’s weariness dissipated, and her blood rushed. She kent the danger well enough. If the arrow went through the bone to the marrow, he could easily develop a blood infection, one well beyond their fifteenth-century skills to treat. That he hadn’t responded to Connor’s attempts to rouse him to consciousness also knotted her stomach. She reached out and gripped the forearm of a passing servant. “Anne, bring me cold water from the well below the great hall, and gather enough fresh linen to make a compress.”

“Aye, Lady Sky,” Anne said before running off to do her bidding.

“Connor, help me lift him to sitting, so I can get some of this tea into him.” Sky poured medicinal brew into a mug and held it ready, as Connor put his arms around Struan’s shoulders and raised him. Struan showed no sign of awareness as Sky held a mug to his lips. “Drink,
mo rún
,” she pleaded with his still form. “’Twill reduce the swelling and ease your pain.” He didn’t respond, and she lowered his jaw, tilted his head back slightly and poured a trickle of the liquid down his throat. He swallowed reflexively.

She managed to get a goodly amount of the healing tea down his throat, with an equal amount spilling down his chin. Connor helped her lay him back down. “Fetch my ma if you would.” Her eyes met Connor’s for an instant before she turned her full attention to Struan.

Her heart skipped a beat as she examined the swelling at the back of his skull. Erin had explained the danger of blood clots and the grave risks involved in brain injuries. Fear for him clogged her throat, as she struggled to rise above the panic. What good would she be to him if she couldn’t control her emotions? He needed all her wits and a steady hand.

Anne hurried to her side, a pail filled with the icy water from the depths of their stronghold. She also clutched a pile of linen to her chest. “Here, my lady,” she said, placing the pail on the table. “What else would ye have me do?”

“Soak the linen in the cold water and wrap his head. Don’t wring out the cloth. We want to soak his head in the cold to reduce the swelling, aye? The compress should be changed oft,” she ordered.

“Aye, my lady.”

With that task taken care of, Sky cut off Struan’s sleeve and began cleaning the gash running down his arm. Connor had it aright. Other than a short length at the top of his shoulder, the wound was not too deep. Only one section would need to be sewn. She poured a stream of
uisge-beatha
into the torn flesh and took up a clean needle and a strand of silk. Her hands shook as she tried to thread the needle. She drew a long breath, let it out and tried again, finally getting the thread through the eye. Bending over Struan, she began stitching together the edges of the deepest part of the injury.

“Sky,” her mother said, coming to stand by her side. “What do you need me to do?”

“See to the arrowhead in his thigh, and tell me he’s going to be . . .” Her voice broke along with her heart. “Tell me Struan will wake, that he’ll recover.”
Tell me I’m not to blame for this, and that I won’t lose the only man I will ever love.
She had to stop what she was doing to wipe away the tears blurring her vision.

Her mother hugged Sky’s shoulders briefly, before setting her knife to Struan’s trews to get to the metal wedged into his thigh.

Silently Sky, her mother and Anne toiled over Struan, until they’d done everything they could. Sky stepped back and glanced around the hall. She called out for help to take Struan upstairs, and four men hurried forward to do her bidding, Connor amongst them. “Take him to Robley’s chamber and lay him upon the bed.” Two positioned themselves at his legs, and two moved to his shoulders. “Careful! Support his head and neck,” she admonished as they lifted him.

Just then, a bell chimed from the village kirk, signaling the battle was over and pealing out the news that the MacKintosh had prevailed. A cheer rose up within the hall, but she barely took notice. Sky turned to Anne. “Fetch fresh water from the well, and bring it to Lord Robley’s chamber.”

“I will see to it anon.” Anne snatched the rope handle of the pail and was off.

Sky hurried to follow the men carrying Struan, easing her way in front of them once they reached the corridor so she could open the door. She rushed to the bed, threw back the covers and gathered the pillows into a pile to support him. “The tea. I forgot the tea.” She strode back to the door. “Undress him and lay him so that his back is propped.” She nearly ran into her sister in her haste to return to the great hall for the tea.

“Och, you nearly spilled it, Sky,” Helen scolded, bringing the pitcher she carried close to her chest. “I’ve brought a potion Ma brewed especially for your knight.” She handed her the earthenware jug. “How can I help?”

Sky shook her head. “Unless you can wake him, there’s naught to do but continue with the cold compresses and pour whatever Ma made for him down his throat. I can manage. Go below and help with whoever might yet come to the hall to have their wounds tended.”

“If that is your wish.” Helen narrowed her eyes, her gaze unfocused. “’Twill be all right, sister. I feel what is to come will bring you great upheaval, a wrenching of your very being, but ’twill be all right in the end.”

“Helen, speak plainly.” Sky tensed, and her poor heart pounded against her ribs. Her sister’s words could mean anything. “Will Struan recover?” She asked only what she dared to voice. The rest she only thought.
Will he and I find a future together?
Mayhap Helen would hear that as well.

“I ken no’ what is to be, Sky. I . . . ’tis only an impression. I get these . . . premonitions, a certainty about the future, but nothing is clear to me beyond the sense, the vibration, of what will be.” She reached out and grasped Sky’s arm. “Mayhap ’twould have been better if I had said naught. I meant only to offer comfort.”

“I ken as much, and I’m grateful.” Sky slung her arm around her sister and hugged her. “Go. Help Ma and Sarah. I’ll be with Struan if anyone needs me.” With that, she turned back to Rob’s chamber with the potion her mother had concocted. She took a sniff of the contents, separating what she detected, tracing the source to the herbs her mother had used. Willow, the usual antiseptics and . . . hellebore.

Och, aye. ’Twould slow his heart, which might aid in reducing the swelling in his skull. ’Twould also help prevent fluid from settling in his lungs, which oft happened with those who were bedridden. By the time she returned, the men had Struan undressed and under the covers. “My thanks,” she said. “If you see Anne on her way here, ask her to bring a clean mug. I need to give Struan the medicine Ma made for him.”

With nods of agreement, all but Connor departed. He stood at the end of the bed and watched Struan. “I pushed him to come with us,” he said, meeting her gaze, his expression tortured. “I’ll never forgive myself if—”

“Say no more, Connor. None of what has happened is your fault.”

“Nor is it yours, lass.”

Wasn’t it? Anne arrived with cold water, a mug and an oiled cloth to place beneath Struan to keep the mattress dry. “My thanks,” Sky said. “Come back every hour, or send someone else. I’ll want to keep the cold compress going throughout the night, and for that, I’ll need the water changed frequently.”

“Aye, I’ll fetch something for ye to eat as well. Ye canna labor thus without feedin’ yerself, my lady.”

She nodded absently, all her attention focused upon Struan’s far-too-still form. “Connor, you dinna have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

He lifted a chair from the corner of the chamber and moved it to the side of the bed for her. “Send for me if you need anything.” He took the ewer from her hands and set it upon the chest against the wall near the bed. “Anything at all.”

“I will.” She turned to remove the linen wrapped around Struan’s head, dropping the cloth in the fresh water. If only he’d taken the blow during the winter. She could pack snow into oiled cloth to lay under his head. She reached out to brush the wet hair from his brow, barely taking note of the chamber door closing behind Connor as he left.

Images ran through her mind, memories of afternoon rides through the tranquil valley with Struan, the first time they’d made love by the loch, even their many arguments. Her eyes stung from weariness and grief. Dammit, she hadn’t had nearly enough time with him. She heaved a shuddering breath and reached for his hand. His fingers curled around hers. Dare she hope ’twas more than reflex? Leaning close, she whispered, “Come back to me, my love.”

“I’ve brought yer supper, my lady,” Anne announced from the door.

Wearily, Sky rose, reluctant to break the contact with Struan. “Leave it on the table. I’ll eat once I put a fresh compress on his head and get some of this medicine down his throat.”

“Do ye need help?” Anne asked.

“Aye, if you would, prop him up by the shoulders.” Anne held him forward, and once again Sky managed to get a goodly amount of the fluid into him. She drew the linen out of the icy water and wrapped his head once more. “He’ll be fine for now. Go and have your own supper, and come back within the hour with fresh water.”

Anne curtsied and left, and Sky moved to the window to peer outside. The sun had begun to set, and she guessed the hour to be half past Vespers. She moved to the table and stared at the steaming stew. She had no appetite, but the night would be long, and she’d need sustenance. She sat, tore off a chunk of bread and used it to scoop the stew. For Struan’s sake, she forced herself to eat every last morsel before she returned to his side. Taking a seat, she reached once again for the comfort of his hand in hers.

The door opened softly behind her, and the rattle of metal filled her ears. She turned to find her da standing at the threshold, still clad in his armor. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat, and his armor was spattered with blood. “
Mo inghean
, daughter, how fares your young knight?”

Her da had always seemed so large to her. Invincible. His eyes were full of compassion and love, and she unraveled under his gaze. A sob rose up her throat, and tears filled her eyes. All she could do was shake her head. Her da tore off his gauntlets, tossed them on the floor and strode to her side. He lifted her from her place and hugged her as best he could. “Och, lass, dinna greet so. He breathes. Where there’s breath, there’s hope.”

“Truly?” She clung to the man who had protected and loved her since the day she was born.

“Aye, truly. I’ve seen lads who slept for days after such a blow to the head wake to take up their lives once more, and they had no’ the benefit of you and your ma’s gifts for healing.” He patted her back. “Wheesht now, and let me look upon your man so that I might see for myself how he fares.”

“
Now
you call him
mine
? You forbade him to wed me, Da.” Her words were tinged with bitterness.

“Aye, I did, but the lad caught me unawares. He claimed he’d asked you to return to Gordon Hollow with him, and I . . . well, I reacted from the heart and not from the head.” He kissed her forehead. “You are my firstborn, Sky Elizabeth. I’ll ne’er forget how I felt, holding you for the very first time. ’Twas but a few moments after your birth, and you were such a wee thing. And sae lovely, my poor heart was full to bursting.”

“And now?” She peered up into his eyes.

“And now? It still melts my heart to look at you, lass, I love you that much. No sire could be more proud than I. You’ve grown into a fine, canny lass, with a braw and compassionate heart. I want only the best for you.”

“I meant have you softened toward Struan.”

“Aye, I kent as much.” He sighed. “He acquitted himself well this day. I’ll no’ deny he’s a fine, honorable lad and good with a sword.” He brought her to his side and moved to study Struan’s still form. “The lad’s color is good. He’s breathing well.” He drew down the cover to look at the gash down his shoulder, neatly stitched by her hand.

“Did I ever tell you about the time your ma stitched me up with our clan’s colors?” He slanted her a grin. “I’d ne’er seen the like. I looked like her latest embroidery project.”

She smiled back, her eyes misting. “Aye, you’ve told the tale a time or two, and how she would no’ speak to you for days, because you went off without a word to fight Black Hugh and the Comyn clan after they attacked Meikle Geddes.”

“I did what had to be done.” He grunted.

“And came back gravely wounded and near death,” she retorted. “Where Struan lives, there are no enemies lying in wait to take what is his. Gordon Hollow is the most peaceful, fertile and wholesome place I’ve ever been. You canna imagine what ’tis like to live with no’ worry about intrigues and feuds. To live so free from constraint, or—”

“Obligation?” He tensed. “Nay, I canna fathom such a thing, nor do I wish to. Like my sire before me, and his before him, my life belongs to our clan. Our people depend upon us to defend them and to see to their welfare. In exchange, we have been granted a life of privilege.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “I did no’ come here to give you a lecture. See to your lad, and we’ll talk more once he wakes. Mayhap we can come to some accord, for I’ll no’ lose you again, lass.”

She didn’t ken what to say or how to respond. Not that it mattered. Her da was already on his way out the door.