A Healer for the Highlander

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Davidh tamped all the fears down as he had for months and years and knocked before lifting the latch. Slowly, as he offered one final prayer up, he opened the door and looked for his son. Colm lay on a pallet in the corner near the hearth. The boy was almost lost in a cocoon of blankets and all Davidh could see was the pale face and bluish lips that spoke of a recent attack. He stared now, trying to discern if his son lived or had died.

  ‘Come in,’ Suisan whispered as she opened the door wider for him to enter. ‘He is sleeping now, puir wee laddie. Exhausted from...well, ye ken what he faces when the spells come on him.’

  Aye, Davidh understood the terrible attacks that stole his son’s ability to breathe and the racking coughs that strained his muscles, leaving behind bruised ribs from the ferocity of the spasms.

  But Colm lived. He’d survived another attack of the breathing disease that had struck him down on a more frequent basis in the last few months. And no tisane or poultice or brew from the last healer had helped. Colm worsened with each bout and Davidh understood that, one day, he would not make it through.

  This day, though, Colm lived.

  ‘I would not have bothered ye this time, but I feared...the worst. I have never seen him like this.’ She nodded at his son.

  ‘I thank you for caring for him, Suisan.’

  The stout woman nodded and then gathered her own daughter in her embrace when Margaret arrived there. Davidh stood over his son, watching and assessing every breath the boy’s frail body pulled in and let out. Running his hands through his hair, Davidh wondered how much more Colm could endure.

  ‘Margaret, take this to yer father,’ Suisan said. She released her daughter and handed her a small sack. It seemed a strange thing to do, but Davidh watched as the girl obeyed without question. When they were alone but for his son, Suisan walked closer to him. ‘I want to suggest something to ye though I have only rumours to go on for now.’

  ‘Go on.’ Davidh shrugged. ‘I have always heeded your counsel, Suisan.’

  ‘There is talk of the witch’s return to Caig Falls.’

  Of anything the woman could say, this was completely unexpected.

  ‘The witch?’

  ‘Aye, ye ken the stories that have been told for years of the witch living above Caig Falls.’

  ‘I ken the stories, but have not heard mention of her since...’ Since he himself was but a lad and his best friend Malcolm claimed to have found her. ‘For a long time now.’

  ‘She was not a witch, but a wise woman, ye ken. She disappeared some years ago and has not been heard of since. But, a few days ago, one of the lads climbing the falls fell and a woman saw to his injury before sending him home.’ Suisan stared at him then. ‘I think she has returned.’

  ‘You think she could help Colm?’

  ‘Ye have tried everything else in yer power to try, Davidh. Why not see if she can?’

  Suisan knelt at Colm’s side and smoothed the blankets over his frail form. He’d been ill for so long that he was smaller than most lads his age.

  ‘I will seek her out.’ Davidh smiled and nodded. He felt better knowing he had some kind of plan. The possibility that something or someone could help his son lifted his spirits for that moment and gave him purpose.

  ‘If ye have duties to see to, I can still tend him.’ Suisan stood then. ‘Come and join us for supper. Ye can take him home for the night then.’

  Davidh watched the shallow rise and fall of Colm’s chest for a short time. It seemed even and strong enough for now and every hour that his son did not struggle for breath was a good one. Davidh nodded at Suisan. ‘I should return to the castle.’

  ‘Go then!’ she said, waving him out. ‘I suspect he will sleep most of the day now.’

  Davidh returned to the keep, knowing that Suisan would take good and thorough care of Colm. But, with his sister married and moved to Edinburgh, his father and, more recently, his mother deceased and Mara gone these last three years, he realised this was not a solution to his problem. What he needed was a strong and healthy son.

  * * *

  Anna Mackenzie stood at the top of the falls, a short distance from the cottage she’d reclaimed, and stared down to the bottom. Memories washed over her, memories made more bittersweet by the knowledge that she would never see Malcolm again. Oh, she had not fooled herself into thinking that being here would be easy, but she owed it to her son...to their son.

  Could she do this? Could she live here as her mother had all those years ago? The similarities she noticed over the last few years between her mother’s life and hers were a bit unnerving. Especially as she stood here now while her child explored the hillside and area around the cottage. Had it truly been ten-and-three years since she had stood here in this very place and dreamed of a future with the man she loved?

  Suddenly she felt much older than her years.

  Iain came around the cottage and she watched his approach. A pang of guilt rushed through her as she realised he was a handful of years off the age she’d been when she’d met his father...and loved him. Iain kenned little about Malcolm other than the barest of details she needed to tell him to pacify his growing curiosity. That interest had spurred her on to return here and seek out his father’s kin. She owed her son and his father at least that.

  Anna waved the boy over to her side and pointed down to the bottom, near the pool that gathered in the waters of the falls.

  ‘They call that the “Witch’s Pool”. Many have tried to climb that path along the edge to reach the top.’ Anna traced the path with her extended hand, showing it to her son. ‘They never see the true path that begins over there in that copse near the large rock.’

  ‘And my father did?’ Iain asked.

  He was at that age between childhood and manhood and hungered for knowledge of his origin. He needed a father, someone to guide him on those final steps that she could not. She’d refused a few offers of marriage since his birth, always knowing deep inside that she wanted him to know his own people. She’d always known that this day would come. Smiling at him, she nodded as she noticed that he’d gained another few inches and now stood taller than she did.

  ‘Aye. But not before trying the slippery one a few times.’

  Iain’s laughter rang out through the trees and she once more noticed the resemblance to his father. Was it there or had she just made herself believe she remembered so many little details about the short relationship? Did her memory reveal things in the way she wanted to see them?

  ‘Look, Mam.’ Iain pointed into the distance at the road that led to the falls from the loch to the south.

  A man rode towards the falls. She had wondered how long it would take for her presence here to be revealed when she’d helped the lad days ago. Here was her answer. She let out a sigh and shook her head. Now, they would come as they had before, some seeking the witch while others came simply for the challenge of climbing the falls.

  When the man slowed on the road and glanced up at the falls, Anna drew her son back into the shadows of the thick forest here at the top. They could not be heard over the crashing waters of the falls, but if the light fell just right through the trees, they could be seen. And she did not wish that yet.

  She had tasks to finish, plants to sort and the weeds to clear from the garden before she would be ready to begin offering her services to the villagers here. Her mother had taught her the knowledge of herbs and plants before she’d passed two years ago. Anna had been content to remain among the Mackenzies until that day, then the restlessness began. The news of the Camerons’ recent upheaval and new chieftain only confirmed her decision that it was time. Gilbert Cameron’s reputation as a ruthless man had kept her away, but his demise and his older brother’s installation as chieftain drew her here.

  It was time.

  ‘Have a care, Iain,’ she warned as her son walked away. ‘Until we know if
we are welcome here.’

  Her son nodded and then crept off into the forest, exploring as lads did when they found a new place. No doubt he would bring home some fowl or rabbit for supper in his explorations. His hunting skills along with his ability to accept and to adjust to new situations surprised her, but she thanked the Almighty her son had them. It was easier to move as they must and not have to deal with a resistant boy of his age.

  Anna returned to the cottage and began the daunting task of cleaning it. Once cleaned she could organise the rest—the plants and supplies. Time sped along as she accomplished many of the tasks she must before day’s end. The crunching of twigs and leaves outside her opened door warned her of Iain’s approach.

  ‘Good day.’

  Anna glanced up to find a tall man standing at her door. His height and breadth almost blocked it completely as he stood there outside. As she walked closer, she realised he was crouching down to look inside the cottage door, which was too short for him.

  It was the man they’d seen below, walking along the road. The plaid wrapped around his waist and over his shoulders identified him as a Cameron. From the dryness of that garment, she realised that he’d not climbed the falls to get here. That meant he knew the other path to reach this place. And that did not bode well for her and her privacy or security.

  ‘Good day, sir,’ she said.

  Anna wiped her hands on the apron at her waist and pushed the loosened strands of hair out of her sweaty face. She must look an utter mess with her dirty gown and face. While he...was dangerously attractive.

  The man had gathered his long, dark brown hair back away from his face which allowed her to see its masculine angles. And his intense eyes that were the colour of the darkest wood in the forest. And his strong chin. He was the most attractive man she’d ever met, here on Cameron lands or in the north on Mackenzie lands. She swallowed to ease the nervousness at that realisation as her throat tightened and tried to speak past it.

  ‘I did not mean to interrupt you,’ he said, stepping back as she approached him. ‘I have heard that you are...’ He paused then, as though not able to utter the word that most used.

  ‘The Witch of Caig Falls,’ she said.

  Chapter Two

  ‘I was about to say healer, but if you would prefer the other...’

  She’d blurted out the reply before he could finish his sentence. He guessed it was not the first time someone had called her a witch. Davidh watched as her green eyes widened for a moment and then they sparkled as she smiled. Her full, pink lips curved into an enticing and intriguing one as he wondered if she considered the name a curse or a compliment.

  She laughed then and he could not look away. The smudges of dirt across her face did little to hide the freckles on her cheeks. And the curls that had escaped her kerchief showed strands of fiery red and copper amidst the other shades of brown. His hand lifted to pull more of the locks free and Davidh struggled to stop himself.

  ‘Nay, healer is preferred since it is truer than the other.’

  Davidh was not convinced. Mayhap she was bewitching him with some spell as she stared at him now? His mouth went dry as she stepped closer and he forgot to move back to allow her to pass. Her body brushed his as she walked away from the door and he turned to follow her movements. Something within him woke, a feeling unfamiliar for it had been so long since he’d noticed it last.

  She intrigued him. She appealed to him in a way he could not describe. She aroused him.

  ‘’Tis the healer I came seeking, but I expected someone...older. Are you the one who saw to Tavish?’

  ‘The lad who fell and twisted his ankle? About two-and-ten?’

  ‘Aye. That one. He sang your praises to his family and to others. That is how I discovered you were here.’

  ‘Are you ill?’ She leaned in towards him and took in his measure, glancing over his body and then staring once more into his eyes. ‘Have you a fever?’ She lifted her hand up as though to touch his forehead and paused, her hand waiting there a scant few inches from his skin. ‘Your pardon,’ she said as she dropped her hand back to her side.

  ‘I have no need of your services,’ he said. His choice of words was ill made and he shook his head. ‘My son has been ill for some time and nothing has helped him.’ Davidh shrugged, fighting the urge to beg her for any help she could offer.

  ‘I have not unpacked my supplies yet, but tell me of his symptoms so I will know if I can help him.’

  He could not help it—he let out a loud sigh of relief. Something in her expression gave him confidence that she could indeed help his son.

  ‘His breathing becomes laboured often,’ he said.

  It took a few minutes for him to describe all the ways his son had suffered over the last year and how he seemed to worsen by the week. She nodded as though she recognised these signs and symptoms and he found himself studying the way her brow gathered when she asked him to clarify something he’d said. She was methodical in a way the village healer was not. Her questions made sense to him as she tried to understand his son’s illness.

  ‘Can you help him?’ he asked when he’d finished.

  ‘I have my suspicions about the cause of his illness, but I must see him to be certain.’ She glanced around the small clearing in which this secluded cottage sat and then back towards the falls. ‘Can you bring him here on the morrow?’

  Now Davidh looked at the surrounding land and wondered if it was possible. This small area of woods and clearing around the cottage was like an island in the middle of sheer rock cliffs on one side and a large river that rushed around the other and fell, forming the falls. Oh, aye, he’d followed the path that Malcolm had told him of all those years ago, but he would have to carry his son to bring him here. Shaking his head, he looked back to the woman.

  ‘Nay. I see no way to get him here in his condition. Even using the hillside path that I did.’ She looked startled at his reminder of how he’d arrived there, but he did not let that deter him. ‘Can you not come to the village and see him there?’ As her expression turned into one of refusal, Davidh knew she would not come. ‘I can pay you in coin for your inconvenience.’ He would give her every bit of coin or valuables he might own if she could help his Colm.

  ‘’Tis not about payment. I have not yet asked the chieftain’s permission to be here. To offer my herbs and skills to his villagers. So, to visit your son before I do so would offer an insult he could not ignore.’

  Once more relief flooded him. This was not an obstacle. He could bring this woman to Robert and make her known to him easily.

  ‘Then I would take you to Robert and see you given permission to live here among us.’ The words came out even as innate caution raised within him.

  Robert trusted Davidh’s judgement and would accept this woman on his word. He searched her face for any sign of danger and found only sympathy there.

  ‘You could do that?’ Her gaze narrowed then and she studied his face more closely. ‘I do not even ken your name or who you are.’ She glanced away then, as though thinking on something, and turned back to him. ‘I did not mean that to sound as rude as it did, especially not when you have just offered help to me.’ A scant smile eased her mouth.

  ‘I did simply invade your home without an introduction and never asked your name either,’ he said. ‘I am Davidh Cameron and I command the Cameron warriors for our chieftain.’

  The effects of his words were immediate and surprising. Her green eyes grew wide and fluttered several times at his words. Then those eyes filled with tears for a moment before she glanced away. Strange, that. Davidh searched her face for some sign of familiarity, but there was no way he could have met this woman and forgotten her. A moment later she seemed to pull herself out of whatever reverie she’d fallen into and looked at him with clear eyes.

  ‘Forgive me for my refusal to help you, sir,’ she said soft
ly as she curtsied before him. ‘I did not understand who you are and I meant no insult to the chieftain or his man.’

  This part, this obeisance, still unsettled him, but Davidh understood that, in his new position of service to the new chieftain, it would be something to which he must accustom himself. He was in a position of honour and a certain level of power and others who wished to gain entrance or favour with the chieftain would attempt to go through him to get it. He nodded at the woman.

  ‘I took no insult from your words, mistress. I suspect Robert would not take insult from your coming to the village first, but others might on his behalf.’

  There were always some who protected the chieftain’s dignity or just wanted to toady up to him to gain advantage for themselves. She waited with a look of anticipation in those lovely green eyes and he lost his thoughts for a moment. When he wanted to speak, he realised he did not know her name either.

  ‘What are you called?’ He finally forced out the words. He wanted to know what name he would whisper when he brought her to mind when she was not there.

  ‘I am Anna. Anna Mackenzie.’

  ‘Lately of...?’

  ‘I have lived with my mother’s family in the north.’

  ‘What brings you south? Here?’

  Though he was being less than hospitable and was questioning the person who possibly held his son’s life in her hands, Davidh could not forget his duty to his clan. She glanced away, staring off in the direction of the falls, and then back to meet his waiting gaze.

  ‘I have been learning the healing ways since I was but a wee lass and showed some skill in them. I have always wanted a place to call my own. A place to hone my skills and to help the ill and injured.’ The seriousness of her words gave him pause.

  ‘You make it sound like a calling.’

  She smiled then and he nearly let out a gasp. No woman before had caused such a visceral reaction within him as this one did. In a short time, she had him uneasy and aroused and curious. This was not good. He had many things that needed his focused attention and anything, anyone, who took his mind off his responsibilities was not good.