Page 18 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
This is goin’ to work, the healer will get her herbs, and the bairns will get their tonic.
It had been late when he’d left Eliza in the drawing room and finally made his way to his chambers. But, despite the late hour, he’d lain in bed for what felt like hours more as he tossed and turned and prayed for sleep.
When, finally, sleep did come, he had been plagued with dreams of the small bodies currently resting in the Great Hall being placed into caskets. He’d heard the cries of mothers and fathers as those caskets were lowered into the ground. Conall had felt the weight of that responsibility every moment since the sun had finally woken him.
The reassuring thoughts did little to bring him peace, though, and he tapped a foot impatiently as he waited for Eliza to appear.
The front door of the castle was pulled open, revealing Eliza being escorted to him by Morna.
“About time ye got down here,” Conall grumbled, grabbing the horse’s reins in his fist and holding it steady as she approached.
Eliza ignored his barb, instead eyeing the stallion that he stood in front of.
“Are we only usin’ one horse?” Her voice was filled with doubt, and Conall just nodded his affirmation.
“Aye,” he pointed to the stirrup. “I told ye, ye’re the only healer. And I cannae risk ye ridin’ off without helpin’ the bairns if I give ye a horse of yer own. So climb up, and we’ll be off to start yer foragin’.”
“Ye really think I’d ride off without helpin’ ye?”
“Aye, absolutely. I think ye wouldnae help me even if I was bleedin’ out on yer boots.”
She snorted. “Well, that might be true. But I wouldnae abandon the bairns.”
“Stop yer stallin’, lassie, and get up on this horse.”
Conall pointed again to the saddle and was surprised when Eliza didn’t argue any further.
Moving past him toward the stallion, she placed a booted foot into the stirrup and pulled herself up into place. He watched as she got herself seated, giving Eliza a few moments to adjust herself before swinging himself up behind her.
Just like the day prior, he felt the presence of her body immediately. Once again, the smell of her drifted up to his nostrils, filling every one of his senses.
Images of her staring at him defiantly the night before floated into his mind’s eye. Throughout his entire life, Conall had hated being challenged. Loathed it with every fiber of his being.
But when Eliza had been firing back at him the night before, he had wanted nothing more than to push her against the wall of the drawing room and ravish her. Her clear hatred for him had made the thought all the more enticing.
Once again, Conall felt a stiffness below his kilt, and he flexed his thighs into the horse, hoping that she wouldn’t notice.
Get control of yerself. Cannae go losin’ yer head over a lass when there’s bairns to be saved.
The thought sobered him a little, and as he steered the horse away from the castle and toward the forest, Conall was able to relax a little more.
After a while of riding in silence, a low, lovely sound drifted to him on a breeze. It was only when Eliza was jostled by the horse, her back pressing against his chest so that he could feel her voice vibrating through him, that he realized that she had started humming.
She had been singing the day before when they’d arrived at the cottage. He’d heard her through the open window before she’d realized he and Eliot were there.
Her voice might be as bonnie as her face.
He didn’t want her to stop. So he said nothing as they ventured farther into the trees.
After a little while, Eliza lifted a finger, pointing toward the west.
“It looks like a thicket that way,” she said, the slightest hint of excitement in her voice.
Conall tugged on the reins, guiding the horse in the direction she had indicated. Sure enough, in no time at all, the trees gave way to a large, circular clearing that was absolutely bursting with plants.
He stopped them on the edge of the thicket, sliding out of the saddle and giving Eliza space to follow after. The moment her boots hit the ground; she began walking around the space.
Her soft brown eyes were fixed intently on the ground, and Conall turned away to tie the horse off to one of the trees. When he turned, she was still sifting through the foliage, her lips moving as she murmured to herself.
