by Fiona Faris
She clearly did not know that his force was only because the woman with child was in desperate need. If she knew this, she wouldn’t have tried to stop him from seeking help. As kind as he wanted to be, he also had points to prove, and he had to maintain a level of respect. If his people looked at this scene and saw the woman unthreatened, they would begin to question whether or not he was willing to allow just anyone to act like that. It would only serve as a negative example.
“Well, go on, then.” She stuck her hands out in front of her, as if waiting to be shackled. “Tis nae like I haven’t already lost everything tae these fires; might as well lose my life, too.” With these words, the woman’s eyes started to soften, a sheen came over them, and her lip trembled so softly, it was only perceptible to Logan. And immediately he regretted it. It was clear this woman was here because of the fires, and it seemed, by the looks of it, she had also lost someone close to her. The guilt hit him like a horse kick to the chest, but he did not know what to say. He couldn’t very well apologize in front of all of these people without having them question him as a leader.
“I need Fanny. There’s a lassie with child who’s feeling faint, and her feet have been badly blistered. I could’na find her when I looked, and I was only trying tae get her attention.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He didn’t want people to continue watching this scene play out. He cast his eyes downward as he spoke, afraid to look her in the eyes after his shameful behavior.
“Well we’re right in the back corner, where e’eryone is crowded an’ seeking treatment.” She responded with an attitude that let him know though she was moving past the dungeon threat, but she was not at all forgiving him or ignoring the incident completely. Logan looked where she pointed and saw Fanny’s soft, braided gray hair, barely perceptible over all the heads waiting to see her. How had he missed her? In his panic, he must have overlooked their station. He felt a twinge of embarrassment.
“With child, ye say?” The lassie looked around, trying to find the woman who needed help. “Let me get some water, tonic, ointment, and some linens. Show me where she is, and I’ll do my best to patch her up.”
Logan followed the woman as she weaved toward Fanny to grab the buckets and ointment. He wasn’t sure who she was, but after that great show of embarrassment, he wasn’t about to ask if she knew what she was doing. Logan led the lassie back to the woman who was with child and watched as she placed a wet rag on her forehead.
“I’ll be takin care of ye, dinnae ye worry,” she leaned in and whispered to the woman, as if she was a frightened mare.
“Thank ye very much. Tis my feet; they burn terribly.” Sophia followed the woman’s eyes and looked down. A small shock came over her, but she quickly shoved it down.
“Well, we’ll take care of ye real quick. Just hold still.” She lifted the woman’s legs one by one tenderly. Sophia moved quickly, but with great care. She poured water boiled with herbs over the woman’s sore feet. Though the woman made a whimper of pain, she continued steadily. She wiped off all the bits of dirt that clung to the soles of her feet. After she deemed them clean enough, she rubbed in some of the ointment and wrapped them in clean linens.
“Thank ye so much; yer a fine healer. I already feel relief. If ye dinnae mind,” The woman turned to Logan now. “I’ll just sit here for some moments and rest.”
“Please, sit, rest. Ye’ve had a long journey.” He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder and the woman closed her eyes. To the side, Sophia picked up everything she had carried over from their healer’s corner. Logan searched for words, anything that would convey a sense of making the situation right.
“Ye are a healer, then?”
Sophia stopped, frozen in her movements. Why had Logan asked that? It was painfully obvious that she was.
“Aye, and if ye dinnae mind, I’ll be gettin’ back tae my duties.” Logan simply nodded as she said this. Sophia walked off. After a few steps, she stopped and turned back. “And try nae tae scare everyone half tae death again, aye?” She had a hint of a smile on her lips, but Logan couldn’t say for certain. Still, the mere words made him stifle a laugh.
After watching the woman walk off, Logan went over to the area where the bowls of stew were being poured and grabbed one for the wounded woman. He brought it to her, and she was very grateful.
Still, he was unhappy with the way the exchange ended with Fanny’s newest apprentice. He decided to try his best to make it right, even if only in a little way. He walked over to where they were situated. Fanny looked up, her face full of light as she recognized him.
“Logan, lad, nice tae see ye here.” She smiled while mending a man’s twisted ankle.
“Ye as well, Fanny. I see yer doin a fine good job carin’ for all these patients.” He looked around and took in the sheer number of people waiting to be seen alongside the number of those already bandaged and mended.
“Well, ye know, we are doin’ our best. Have ye met my newest apprentice?” Fanny gestured toward Sophia, who did not lift her head from her patient.
“Aye, we met,” she responded rather sharply.
Logan looked around at their tools and medicines. “Is there anything I can fetch for ye, Fanny?” he asked kindly, hoping to do any small task to win back their favor.
Fanny was about to say no when Sophia interrupted her. “Yes, fresh water please, and linens. We’ll be needing a whole lot of them.” She gestured with her chin to the empty buckets beside them.
Gilbert’s mouth hung open. No one had ever asked the Laird for a favor. Logan smiled, knowing though she was feisty in the moment, he was slowly going to get in her good graces and redeem himself from his earlier moment.
“I’ll get ye all some fresh water. If ye need anything else, let me know.” With that, he gave a shallow bow and headed toward the kitchen staff.
Behind him, he heard a soft “Thank ye.” He wanted to respond, but when he looked back all, he found himself doing was focusing on the curve of her neck; how it slid beneath the collar of her eggshell-colored dress. There was a part of him that wanted to run his finger along that curve, to trace the collarbone to where it met the shoulder. Her body flowed like a stream, one he so desperately wanted to dip into.
After glancing for far too long at her neck, Logan was distracted by a group of men outside the entrance to the great hall. It seemed Alrick and the other scouts had returned; they were due for a council meeting that evening. Logan knew Alrick would rush up to their meeting room to discuss what he had found. He hoped it was nothing too much worse than he imagined.
After asking the kitchen staff to send down fresh water to the healers, Logan left the great hall. He climbed the stairs and went straight to the room to meet Alrick. He still wasn’t entirely sure about the conversation he had overheard earlier that day, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about that at the moment. Logan needed to move forward and act as if nothing had happened. He prepared himself for the worst; perhaps more farms had burnt down than he anticipated, or maybe the fires were just the beginning of worse fates. As he climbed the stairs, he thought of many things that might have started the fires. Nothing made sense.
Inside the room, Alrick was already seated with a chalice of wine in his hand. He looked as exhausted as Logan felt.
“I’m glad ye saw our return. There’s much we need tae speak of.” Alrick got straight to the point, which was always what Logan preferred.
“Aye; now tell me what ye have seen.” Logan poured himself some wine and sat across from Alrick, waiting to be filled in on the details.
“Tae begin with, all of the farmhouses at the southern border have been badly burned. Most of the fields and harvest are ruined. There are some crops that we may be able to salvage, but none of the homes are livable.”
Logan was confused. There were no neighboring clans in the area of the southern border; in fact, travelers rarely passed by there, and aside from the cattle and some wildlife, there were no other signs of life in that r
egion.
“Ye say we may be able tae save some crops? How much?” he asked, trying to think further about the fires.
“Aye, we may be able tae get maybe a fields’ worth of various crops,” Alrick responded quickly.
“What about livestock?” Logan needed to know what resources they would have to make it through the coming winter.
“None—they must have all fled as quickly as possible.”
Logan placed his chin on his hand. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fires.
There had to be a reasonable explanation for what was going on. “Tell me more about the fires, Alrick.”
Alrick stood and walked over to the window from which two of the borders were visible. “There’s one other thing I have na’ mentioned. The fires, Logan—they were clearly started by someone. There is no rationale tae them. There were large burn marks near the fences and grasses that have no logical sense—aside from being man-made.”
Logan stood and looked out the window. The south border was the furthest from any of the neighboring clans. It was a border that most did not visit, aside from going to the farm lands. Why would someone start multiple fires near there? And who could possibly have a reason to burn all the farmlands down? Whoever it was, Logan was set on finding out.
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About the Author
Fiona Faris is an American author of authentic historical Medieval & Scottish romance books. She started writing historical highlander romance after she visited the Scottish Highlands years ago with her husband.
Her books have received startling reviews about the humor, the darkness and the romance they have.
She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and their two sons. Before she started writing romance, she experienced the various occupations: translator, dog-training, and a substitute English teacher for the most part of her life... However, nothing could ever compare to writing stories depicting the majestic and mysterious Scottish Highlands!
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