Page 12 of MacAlister's Hope
“But nothing. Kieron, tomorrow evening we celebrate. See that it happens, aye? And I promise,” he reached for Fia’s free hand and gave it a squeeze, “to do naught but sit and enjoy not being in pain anymore.”
Fia had never felt so at home as she did standing by the chief’s bed with Kieron’s hand in hers. Yet guilt clogged her throat so much she could barely swallow, for she could never claim she was not loved and cared for at Kilmartin. Elena and Symon had taken her in when her mother died, raised her as one of their own, but even so, in Kilmartin she was always Wee Fia the orphan, or Wee Fia Elena’s shadow. Here in Kilglashan she had no past. Here there were no expectations of who or what she was beyond her healing abilities. Here she was needed. Here she found… She looked up at Kieron, only now aware that he was still talking to the chief.
Here she’d found love.
The feelings that had grown so swiftly in her for this man stunned her and unnerved her, for she did not know how she would be able to part from him when she returned to Kilmartin. And she must return to Kilmartin soon.
Would he stay there with her? She knew he had a grandmother who was dear to him, but she did not ken what his responsibilities were towards her. She realized she really knew little of him—if his parents were alive, if he had brothers or sisters, what his position was here in Kilglashan. Was he to be Tavish’s champion when Tavish became chief? Could he leave behind this place and these people to live in Kilmartin with her? Would he?
Fia knew she could not stay here, even if he wished her to. She had her own responsibilities to mind at Kilmartin. She owed her loyalty to Elena and Symon for the life and family they’d given her. Mairi was not fully trained in the art of herbs, and Elena needed Fia’s help minding the younger girls and the bairn due anytime now. And Elena had come to depend upon Fia to assist her in her healings, saving the Lamont gift for those ailments most dire.
Kieron squeezed her hand, drawing her attention away from the future and back to the moment. “I promised I would return her to Kilmartin when you were well,” he said to the chief, though there was a heaviness to his voice that matched her own mood. “You can show the women how to make the salve for the blisters that remain, can you not, Fia?”
She tried to smile but could only nod. Fia took a moment to gather herself, to pull herself back from the precipice of sorrow that just the thought of leaving Kieron and his village created deep in her soul. She would not waste the time she had with him by dwelling on the future.
“I will make a batch of the salve tomorrow and show them how ’tis done.” She leaned against him, their hands still clasped together. “But for now, I would see you drink some broth, chief, then rest. I ken you feel better, but the fever and pain has taken a toll upon you that will take more than a few days to recover from.”
“I think you should take your own advice,” the chief said. “Kieron tells me you have not slept a full night since you arrived here and I can plainly see your fatigue.”
“I am fine,” she said.
“I am the MacAlister.” His voice was a determined boom in the chamber that demanded her attention. “Kieron, summon one of the women to watch over me while you make sure my healer gets a proper sleep, then I suggest you introduce her to your grandmother, unless you have already done so.”
A fond smile lit up Kieron’s face, different from the smile he gave Fia, but just as deeply felt. “Fia has not left your side from the moment she came here, except to work in the stillroom now and then. I would like her to meet my grandmum,” he said squeezing Fia’s hand in his.
“And I’m sure your granmum will be most interested to meet her,” the chief said. “Now go.”
Before Fia could speak, Kieron pulled her toward the door. “You heard the chief,” he said. “I had a bath prepared for you, then ’tis high time you slept, and I am tasked with making sure you do.” The man had the audacity to waggle his brows, drawing a smile from her, and creating a pleasant tingling under her skin, as he dragged her away.
A few hours later, Kieron watched as Fia slumbered. His heartbeat was slow and steady as a deep peacefulness filled him with a sense of wellbeing and hope for his future. He had left her alone only long enough for her to bathe and rest in the chamber next to the chief’s, while he set the celebration preparation in motion and made sure Tavish knew of his father’s returning health.
And then he had returned to watch over Fia.
As he’d sat there, watching her breath move in and out, admiring the charming way she rested her face in one hand while the other curled under her chin, he’d had plenty of time to mull over the paradox of his feelings about the chief’s recovery. On one hand, he was relieved and happy that the chief was no longer in pain and would soon be able to resume his duties as head of the clan. On the other, he was heavy-hearted that it signaled the time for Fia to leave Kilglashan, to leave him—unless he could convince her to return once Elena had delivered her bairn.
The chief had gained Kieron an extra day with her when he proclaimed the celebration would be held on the morrow, for neither of them could leave the village until after that. But ’twas only one more day and Kieron itched to wake her, to hear her voice, and see her clear blue eyes smiling up at him. He itched to convince her to stay.
Chapter Six
Fia rolled over on the narrow bed and blinked her eyes open. She stared at Kieron who sat on a small wooden stool across the small chamber, his back against the wall and his chin almost resting on his chest. Was she dreaming again? Nay, she thought not, but she could not remember how she had come to be asleep in Kieron’s presence…again. She blinked, trying to wake up her groggy mind, and sat up as it came back to her. Her bath. A nap. But she did not think he had been in the chamber when she had crawled onto the bed.
“How long have you been watching over me?” she asked, combing her fingers through her still damp hair. The unfamiliar intimacy of having a man in her sleeping chamber as she awoke was both odd and oddly nice.
He startled, blinking his own eyes as if he, too, had been sleeping. He rubbed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I’m not sure.” His smile was replaced by a shyness she had not seen on him before, his eyes on his feet, and his hands clasped before him. “I know ’tis not proper,” he said, “but…” He smiled again, the confident Kieron she’d come to know this past sennight firmly back in place. “…But I did not ken how long you’d sleep, so left the door ajar, and I waited. I guess I fell asleep, too.” He rose and moved toward the door, but he did not leave. “It looks to be a little past sunrise. I should like to show you about the village if you’d like to get outside for awhile. You have not had any time to explore my home while you have been here.”
“I should get back to the chief,” she said as she pushed off the bed and began to brush the wrinkles out of her gown. “I fear I am not fit company, though.”
“There is a comb, and a ewer of fresh water for you.” He pointed to a small table set against the wall. “Last I checked, the chief sleeps, and the women who were caring for him when you arrived are taking turns sitting with him. Even Tavish has been by to visit his da, which seemed to cheer both of them. You can check on him, and if he still sleeps, we can take a little time and I will show you my village.”
The thought of spending time with Kieron without the worry of the chief hanging over them filled her with happiness, but she knew it would only increase the bond she could feel building between them. She did not want either of them to suffer when she returned to Kilmartin.
“I do not think ’tis a good idea.” She moved to the small table and took up the comb, keeping her back to Kieron lest she weaken in her resolve simply by looking at the braw man. “Besides, I need to teach someone how to make the salve—”
“’Tis an excellent idea,” he replied. “You have worked hard since you arrived here. A walk in the fresh air will be good for you. Besides, there is time enough for making the salve later today, aye? I’ve had Annis gather the supplies for you, but not to make the salve herself,” he quickly added before Fia could object. “I thought perhaps some work would be appropriate after two days with nothing to do but think about what landed her in trouble. Margaret supervised her the whole time and Annis will go out today with her and several lasses to gather more willow bark for your supplies and ours. So you see, all is in hand with the chief’s care and you are free to spend some time with me.” His words were light, but when she looked over her shoulder at him, his lovely green eyes could only be described as hopeful. She turned back to the table, pouring a little water into the bowl set beside the ewer. She splashed the cold water on her face, dispelling the last of her fatigue with it.
“It would seem I am no longer needed.” She dried her face, desperately trying to come up with a reason she could not go with him, though she wanted to just as desperately.
