Page 19 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

“I just want tae help,” she said, hurt by his harsh attitude.

Once he was clear, the men dropped the branch with a crash and rushed towards him, but Raven was already trying to help him up.

“Are ye deaf? Get off me. Can ye nae see ye’re in the way!” he shouted angrily, shrugging her off.

“But Arne, I just want tae ken ye’re all?—”

“Are ye a healer?” he demanded, cutting her off.

“Nay, of course I’m nae,” she replied, a lump forming in her throat to see how much he hated her.

“Then bugger off!”

“Let us dae it, lass, he’s too heavy fer ye,” the man Arne had saved told her with a pitying look as he and his mate picked him up and supported him with their shoulders.

She could only stand watching in mute misery as he hobbled between the men, keeping the pressure off his injured leg as they hurried him as fast as they could to the healer. She dithered, wondering if she should go away as he wished or follow. The need to know he was not badly injured won out.

So, she set off after them, trailing a few yards behind, following them all the way to the healer’s cottage.

Raven had already met Meg, the strange little woman with the child’s voice, because she had come periodically to check on her during her recovery. The healer-witch was odd, to be sure, but her powers to heal were beyond question. She had earned Raven’s trust and respect.

Arne groaned in pain when the men carried him into the cottage and laid him on the battered couch that served as a bed for Meg’s patients. She greeted them in friendly fashion, shooting Raven a bright smile and a nod when she saw her slip inside the room unnoticed by the others. Raven smiled back, pressing a finger to her lips. Meg nodded subtly to show she understood and immediately turned her attention to Arne’s injury.

“I dinnae need ye two in the way,” she told the two men who had carried him, shooing them towards the door. They gave Raven a funny look as they went out the door, as if asking why she was allowed to stay, but they left without argument.

Raven looked back at Meg and Arne, waiting to hear what the healer would say. Her next words made her blood run cold.

“Fightin’ with trees now, is it, lad? That’s foolish,” Meg said to Arne, and his face went white.

“How did ye ken that? Through yer special powers?” he asked with a look of awe.

Meg gave one of her witchy cackles. “Nay, ye fool, I saw ye out the window.”

“Och, is that all?” he said, looking relieved. But Raven knew Meg was teasing him, for she knew very well that Meg could not have witnessed the accident from the cottage because the tree was not visible from there. Whatever she had “seen” that told her about the branch falling on Arne had not been through the window.

Suddenly, Meg turned and said to her, “Will ye bring me bag over, dear? I need me shears tae cut the torn leather away from his leg so I can see the wound properly.” She pointed over to a small table, where Raven saw the medicine bag standing open.

“Aye, I’ll get it,” Raven replied, hurrying across the room to fetch them from the bag, glad to be of help.

“What the hell is she doin’ in here?” Arne asked, noticing her at last and sitting up on his elbows to glare at her.

Meg tutted and pushed him back down. “She’s helpin’ me, that’s what. Now hush and let me see what I’m dealin’ with, lad,” Meg told him, peering at the bloodstained leather. “Thank ye, dear,” she said to Raven when she handed her the shears. “I dinnae think it will be very easy tae get these trews off altogether, but if ye hold his leg still for me, lass, I’ll cut around the wound.”

“All right,” Raven complied, glad to be of help. She placed one hand on his thigh above the wound and the other below, to allow Meg to cut away the bloody material and expose the wound. The gash looked deep and bloody from what Raven could tell, but the rest of his leg felt warm and hard and muscular. The masculine strength he emanated sent a little shiver running through her.

“I dinnae want her here. Tell her tae go,” Arne grumbled, looking daggers at Raven.

“Ach, keep yer hair on! Ye saved me life, and I’m only doin’ the same fer ye as ye did fer me. Or are ye too stubborn tae let me repay ye?” Raven retorted, hurt and now irritated by his apparent determination to reject her.

“I told ye—” he began again.

“Stop talkin’, and lie still,” Meg ordered in the voice of an imperious eight-year-old, and they both shut up at once. However, Arne continued to shoot Raven dark glances, leaving her in no doubt how he felt about her.

The healer threw the bloody leather she had cut away from Arne’s trews into the fire and then began inspecting the injury closely, while Raven held him. She winced to see the injury was a mess, blue, bloody and swollen where the branch had carved a long gash into the flesh. Meg gently pushed various points around it, waiting to see how Arne reacted. His grimaces showed how painful it was.

Finally, the healer straightened and said, “Well, ’tis a nasty gash, and ye’ll have some bruisin’, but it looks worse than it is. Ye’ve nae broken anythin’, but it’ll need careful cleanin’ tae make sure ye dinnae get an infection. It’ll heal up well enough if ye dae everythin’ I tell ye. I’ll get me things.” She went off to get hot water from the kettle over the fire and the cleaning cloths, bandages, and herbal medicines she needed.

Raven breathed an inward sigh of relief that he was going to be all right, and she was determined to be the one to nurse him, whether he liked it or not.

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