Page 3 of Cherished By A Highlander

Shade stretched her shoulders back to ease the ache between them. She dropped the soiled cloth in the bucket of water with the other cloths that would get a good washing tomorrow. It had taken time, but she had managed to clean and tend to Quint’s wounds.

His name fell easily from her lips now, referring to him by it so often while she worked on him that it almost felt as if he were her friend. On closer inspection of his wounds, she realized a section of his arm would require a few stitches. She had given him a small amount of black henbane to keep him sleeping so he would not suffer the pain of being stitched. Luckily, his shoulder bone hadn’t been impacted by the dagger, though she packed the wound with sphagnum moss to help heal it. It was his fever and a section of his wound that she feared might be beyond her help that worried her the most. She had made a paste of betony and heart-of-the-earth and applied it to his wounds before bandaging them. Both plants worked remarkably well in healing stubborn wounds.

Once finished, she had gotten busy trying to rid him of his fever. There were certain situations where fevers were left to run their course and other times when they could prove dangerous.Quint’s fever was a dangerous one and she had made a brew of elderflowers and thyme that she spoon fed him. Cold, wet cloths applied to his brow and neck followed that and thankfully the fever had faded but not vanished entirely. She would need to keep a watch on him throughout the night.

Now that he rested comfortably, she intended to do the same herself, knowing she would not get much sleep tonight. She filled a bowl with the kale and onion soup she had managed to hurriedly throw together in between caring for him. Experience had taught her to not neglect herself when healing or she would be of no help to anyone.

She sat at the table, enjoying the soup along with the reprieve, her glance drifting often to the man in her bed. Quint was a fit man, defined with muscles, and scars here and there that acknowledged his warrior status. She had viewed naked men before now, helping local women prepare their husbands and sons for burial, so a man’s naked body was not a foreign sight to her. However, she had never seen a body quite as fit as Quint’s or a flaccid manhood of such generous size.

“Do not let your mind wander there,” Shade whispered to herself, though she did wonder why it did.

Normally, she would never think of such an intimate thing when treating someone. She imagined such thoughts lingered with her because of Quint’s remark about bedding her and making it a memorable night. He did say she wasn’t a beauty, but that she was attractive enough, something she had never heard from any man. That he had noticed her body and found it appealing was surprising to hear as well.

“Fever,” Shade reminded herself. Fever had him speaking improperly to her, though he had been rational enough to offer coupling with her as payment for her services. “Lonely,” she muttered. Her thoughts were thus because she had been feeling lonely of late, Ula was no longer nearby to chat with, and she nolonger had Brother Emmett to share thoughts on healing. “Don’t be a foolish woman, Shade,” she warned herself. “Or desperate to know a man’s touch. If it is meant to be, a man will come your way.” She glanced upon Quint once again. Had he already arrived?

She shook her head at such a reckless thought. He had sought her healing skills and that was what she would remain to him, a healer and nothing more.

Checking on Quint after she finished her soup and cleaning away everything, she was relieved to feel that his fever remained low. She placed a small crock that contained the brew for his fever on the chest beside the bed, then set to scrubbing the dirty cloths, slipping out into the light rain to dump the dirty water and refill the bucket with clean rainwater and another bucket as well. She arranged the washed cloths to dry on a bench she placed close to the hearth, then turned the chair she sat in nightly that faced the hearth around to face Quint.

Hopefully, morning would find his fever gone and with that thought, she rested her head back and closed her eyes.

“NAY! NAY!”

The shouts woke Shade with a start that had her bolting out of the chair. Quint was thrashing around in the bed, and she didn’t need to feel his brow to know his fever had risen. She quickly soaked and rinsed a cloth in the bucket of water and placed it on his brow.

“Easy, Quint. There is no need for worry,” she said softly, stroking his cheek gently with her hand and alarmed at how hot it felt.

His hand shot up so fast to grip her wrist that she had no time to avoid it. He held it so tightly it felt like a shackle locked around it.

“I forbid you to leave me,” he ordered angrily.

She kept her voice calm, though she felt a slight fright. He was a strong man who could do her harm, and she had to be careful. “I am not going anywhere.”

“You will stay with me.”

Again, it was a command. “Aye, I will stay with you.”

“Always. You will stay with me always,” he said, his anger fading with his strength.

“Aye, always,” she said and realized his fever had taken him to another time and place and it wasn’t her who he feared losing.

He yanked her wrist, causing her to fall forward nearly on top of him if she hadn’t stopped herself, rushing to brace her other hand on the bed. Still, though, she found her face so close to his that she could feel the heat of his fever.

“I will have your word on that,” he demanded.

She was left little choice but to say, “You have my word.”

His eyes drifted closed, her response appeasing him, and Shade hurried to spoon more of the brew into his mouth which he took eagerly. She then continued to lay a wet cloth on his brow, neck, and chest, resoaking it as soon as the heat chased the chill from it.

It was well into the night before his fever broke and she laid her hand against a cool brow. Relieved and exhausted, she dropped down on the chair, her body slumping back and sleep claiming her.

Quint woke slowly,feeling as if he had woken from a battle that he just might have lost. He was getting too old for battles not only as fiercely as he’d been fighting, but as often. Soon, though, his task would be done and once it was, he intended to live out his days in solitude.

He should open his eyes to see where he was, but he was far too comfortable in whose ever bed it was he landed in. He went to stretch and force some life back into his complacent limbs, aware he could not lay there vulnerable. That’s when the pain struck, and he recalled what had happened.

He opened his eyes to glance at his bandaged shoulder and arm. The confrontation had been unexpected and though he’d been wounded, it was worth it. There was now only one man left to find and then he would have his revenge.

Quint realized the bandages he looked at were the only things he wore. He was completely naked beneath the blanket, though it did feel good. He recalled feeling a tremendous heat and struggling to get layer after layer of garments off him, but gentle hands stopped him, a soothing voice telling him everything would be fine. He had believed her, but then her touch had been gentle and cool and had felt wonderful.

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