by Gwyn Brodie
She nodded, praying he was right, then breathed a sigh of relief when Duncan entered the bedchamber, along with a middle-aged woman carrying a basket of herbs and potions. The healer put her things down on the bed, then picked up the candle, holding it close to Galen's chest. "When was the lad injured?"
"A little more than a day ago," Sorcha said, wringing her hands as she watched the woman remove a small knife and a cloth pouch from her basket. She untied the leather strip, then set it aside.
She handed the candle to Sorcha. "Hold it close, lass."
They watched, as the woman pressed her fingers into Galen's chest, carefully accessing the wound. Galen didn't move, even though Sorcha knew it must have hurt. Don't you dare leave me, Galen MacKinnon. I need you. She blinked back her tears and steadied her hand.
"One of ye lads put a kettle of water over the fire," the woman said, without looking up. "I'll be in need of it soon."
"I'll do it. There's a decent fire still burning. It shouldn't take long for the water to heat," Cinead said, then stepped into the other room. The door opened and closed as he left the cottage to fetch water from the well.
When he returned, Sorcha heard the clang of the pot, as he hung it over the fire, before coming back to the bedchamber.
The healer picked up the knife, then took her time as she deftly removed each stitch. When the last one was out she pried open the wound. "Hand me the pouch."
Sorcha handed her the small bag, then held the candle close to Galen's chest.
"If the water's hot enough, lad, bring it to me," she said to Cinead.
He hurried into the other room, and returned with a basin of water. "'Twasn't boiling, but 'tis quite warm."
She dipped her finger into the water and nodded. "'Twill do." Taking clean linen from the basket, she dipped it into the water, then gently washed away the dried blood and pus. Once she was satisfied it was clean enough, she picked up the pouch of herbs and shook out a portion of its contents into her hand, then dampened it with a few drops of the water. She worked it until it held together, then carefully pulled open the wound and packed it with the poultice. Then she carefully stitched it closed.
Sorcha watched all that the healer did, praying it would help Galen get well. His normally tan color was now an ashen gray. Tears suddenly blurred her vision.
He groaned and turned his head back and forth.
"I'm here, Galen," she whispered, smoothing his hair away from his face. He stilled, and she turned her attention back to the healer."What are the herbs you use?" Sorcha asked, curious about their healing power.
"Yarrow, m'lady. 'Twill still the flow of blood and ease the pain." She picked up a small bottle and removed the top, then held it over the wound, dribbling a small bit of honey across it.
The healer turned to Duncan and Cinead. "If ye'll lift him a bit, I'll bandage the lad."
Positioning themselves on either side of Galen, Duncan and Cinead gently raised him from the bed.
The healer wrapped clean material she'd taken from her basket, around his back and chest, then secured it.
Once she was finished, they eased him back down.
She touched his forehead. "The poor lad is burning up. Fetch m' a cup of the heated water."
When Cinead returned with the cup, she carefully sprinkled in several seeds, then let it seep.
"Lift his head. He must drink this. 'Tis coriander, m'lady. 'Twill rid him of the fever, as well as ease his pain," she said, waiting while Sorcha, with Cinead's aid, lifted Galen's head from the bed. The healer placed a cloth over the cup to keep in the seeds and pushed the concoction between his pale lips. Slowly, one sip at a time, Galen swallowed the warm liquid, until the cup was empty.
Sorcha pressed her lips against his feverish forehead, swallowing back the array of emotions that threatened to consume her.
"'Tis all I can do for now, m'lady. Only time will tell if 'twas enough. I'll come by to check on him later," she said, then gathered the things she'd taken from her basket and left the bedchamber.
Sorcha followed her to the door and squeezed several coins she'd taken from Galen's sporran into her hand. "Much thanks. What is your name?"
The woman smiled. "Tis Maggie."
"Then much thanks, Maggie."
She nodded. "The drink will cause him to sleep through much of the day, but his fever should break soon. If he worsens, have the lad come fetch me again. I'll come by before nightfall and see to him," she said, then left the cottage.
Sorcha bolted the door behind Maggie and hurried back to Galen's side.
"We're going into the village to purchase something with which to break our fast. Duncan came across a bakery on his way to the healer's cottage."
"If you could find me a dressed fowl, I could make a soup, which is just what Galen needs."
Duncan smiled. "Aye, we'll no' come back 'til we find one, even if we have to catch it ourselves. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a bit of soup myself."
Cinead rolled his eyes toward the thatched roof of the cottage and shook his head. "We'd best get going then. We'll no' be long," Cinead said. "Do no' fash yourself so, Sorcha. You'll do well to remember Galen is a Highland warrior. He's survived much worse."
She nodded.
He gently squeezed her shoulder, before leaving the cottage. They were fine men and wonderful friends to both she and Galen.
After their departure, Sorcha walked back to the bedchamber, then sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Galen sleep. He had to get better. She needed him. She placed her hand on her belly. Their wee bairn needed him. As soon as he awoke, she'd tell him she was with child. Knowing he was to be a father might give him the strength he needed to get better.
Sorcha stretched out beside Galen and leaned her head against his shoulder "Galen, please don't die," she sobbed, her tears wetting his shirt.
She woke when Cinead and Duncan returned. Her face felt tight. She must have cried herself to sleep. She placed her hand against Galen's brow, though still hot, 'twas not as bad as it had been earlier. Perhaps the potion Maggie gave him was indeed working.
She slipped from his side and went to see what they'd brought her to make soup. A plump hen, ready for the pot, lay on the table, along with parsnips, kale, peas, two loaves of fresh bread and a small sack of oats for porridge. They appeared to be waiting for her to say something. "We'll eat well while we're here."
They grinned like two small children.
Cinead took the cooking pot from the fire and placed it on the table. "I'll fetch water for your soup. He grabbed up the bucket and left the cottage.
"Mind if I sit with him for a bit, Sorcha?" Duncan said, his brow creased with worry.
"Nay. I'd feel much better about leaving him alone, if you would."
He nodded and eased his way into the room.
She cut up the chicken and placed it into the cooking pot, while she waited for Cinead to return with the water. Though Sorcha had little experience at cooking, she'd spent many a day in Blackstone's kitchen as a child, watching the cook prepare their meals. Alice was always quick to answer any questions she had, and often allowed her to roll out the dough for tarts. After her mother's death, it became her duty to make certain the food was prepared and served in a timely manner.
Cinead came through the door and poured the water into the pot, until it well covered the fowl, then hung it over the crackling fire. "If you're in need of anything more, let me ken."
"Much thanks, Cin."
He nodded, then headed to the bedchamber to join Duncan at Galen's side.
She used the remainder of the water to wash the vegetables, then added them to the soup. She then spied a small wooden box on a shelf, which to her surprise and delight, contained several dried herbs. She added rosemary, fennel and parsley to the pot. The cottage was soon filled with the wonderful aroma of her soup. She ladled a small portion into a cup for Galen, then set it aside to cool. After finding a spoon, she carried it into the bedchamber.
&n
bsp; Cinead got to his feet and moved out of her way. "I hope he'll eat it. It smells delicious."
She smiled. "Much thanks, Cin. If you could lift his head a bit, I'll try to spoon some into his mouth."
The two men sat down at the head of the bed on either side of Galen and gently cradled his head in their hands.
He groaned, but didn't open his eyes.
Sorcha carefully lifted the spoon to his mouth, then gently pushed it between his lips.
Galen frowned, but swallowed.
Spoonful after spoonful, she continued to feed him, until the cup was empty. She set it aside, then pressed her hand against his cheek. "He's still quite warm. Maggie will be coming by soon. Perhaps she can give him another one of her potions. You two, go and eat. I'll stay here with Galen."
Duncan stood. "You need to eat, too, lass. To keep up your strength."
She smiled. "I will. I promise." She knew she had to eat—if for no other reason than the health of the bairn she carried.
A knock sounded at the door. After a moment, Maggie entered the bedchamber. "Seems ye've fashioned a fine soup, m'lady, judging from the smell and the way the two lads are ingesting it." She looked down at Galen. "Did ye get any of it in the lad?"
"Aye, an entire cup, but it took a while."
"Good." She felt his head. "His fever hangs on still, but no' as badly. I'll give him a bit more of the coriander. And the wound?"
"No further bleeding, thus far."
Maggie nodded. 'Tis the yarrow, m'lady."
After they managed to get the coriander down Galen's throat, Sorcha offered Maggie a meal of the soup and bread, but she refused. She left, promising to return on the morrow.
Sorcha sat with Galen a few minutes more, before she became nauseous and decided perhaps should get something to eat. As she rose from the bed, Galen whispered her name. Sorcha sat back down and cupped his cheek. "I'm here. I always will be."
"Sorcha," he whispered weakly. "I love you."
Tears sprang into her eyes. "And I love you, with all of my heart."
Cinead appeared in the doorway, with a cup of soup and a slice of bread, then handed it to Sorcha. "You must eat something, lass. If you don't, you'll make yourself ill, then you'll no' be able to take care of Galen, will you then?"
She smiled up at the flaxen-haired Highlander with a heart the size of a mountain. "Much thanks, Cin. I don't ken what I'd have done without you and Duncan."
He swallowed hard. "Galen's like a brother to us. We care a great deal about what happens to him—and you," he said, then left her to her meal.
Sorcha finished off the soup, most pleased with its outcome, and the bread. She yawned, then lay down on the bed next to Galen.
When she opened her eyes, the first rays of the morning sun were coming through the window. She lifted her head and looked down at Galen. He still slept soundly. His brow was much cooler to the touch, and Sorcha prayed he was on the mend. Her stomach growled, and she eased from the bed. A cup of hot porridge was just what he needed.
When she walked into the next room, she found Duncan stirring something in the cooking pot hanging over the fire. She moved closer, to find it was a creamy porridge. "I'm much impressed by your cooking skills, Duncan."
"Humph, I can cook many things, even scones, if I'm a mind to," he said, ladling some of the porridge into a bowl, then handing it to her. "Anyone who likes to eat as much as I do, best learn to cook or else starve, especially if there's none other to do it."
Sorcha carried her bowl to the table and sat down.
Cinead came through the cottage door, then placed a container of honey before her. "We remembered you liked your porridge sweet."
Her eyes misted with unshed tears. "I don't ken what to say, except that the women who capture the two of you will be lucky indeed."
They both looked at her as if she'd sentenced them to hang.
She chuckled, then poured the honey onto her porridge, before eating every last bite. Sorcha ladled a bowl for Galen, adding less honey, then carried it into the bedchamber. As before, the two men held his head, while Sorcha fed him. Getting Galen to open his mouth was hard at first, then he did so without being forced.
The three days that followed, Galen improved. Maggie came each morning and afternoon to check on his progress.
"The lad no longer needs m' help, m'lady. He'll be up and about before ye ken it."
Sorcha frowned. "Why does he not open his eyes, or talk with me?"
Maggie chuckled. "The coriander is the most likely cause. Now that he's no longer in need of it, he'll soon be his old self. Ye'll see. Farewell, m'lady," Maggie said, then left the cottage.
Cinead and Duncan had left early that morn to go in search of fresh venison. Duncan was bound and determined to show Sorcha his recipe for venison stew.
They didn't return before nightfall, so Sorcha figured they'd ended up spending the night in the wood, or else some lass's bed. She bolted the door and went into the bedchamber. She removed all but her shift and slipped into bed beside Galen. He'd had no fever all day and she couldn't be happier. "When you wake up, Galen, I've something of much import to tell you," she whispered, then slipped her fingers through his and fell asleep.
Sorcha opened her eyes and blinked. She sat up and placed her hand on Galen's forehead. Still no fever. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer of thanks, then slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb him. She stretched out her arms toward the ceiling, then walked to the window and pushed opened the shutters, flooding the tiny bedchamber with moonlight. The full moon hung low over the Highlands, illuminating the countryside with its magnificent radiance.
She folded her arms and leaned on the windowsill, breathing in the salty sea air and listening to the comforting sounds of nightfall.
"Sorcha."
She whirled around and ran to the bed, then smothered Galen's face with kisses.
He chuckled. "Pleased to see me, are you, lass?"
"Aye, that I am," she choked out, her heart nearly bursting with joy.
He chuckled. "How long have I been here?"
"Near a week. You were very ill, Galen. I was so afraid you'd die and leave me."
Galen held her, relishing the wonderful feel of her in his arms. "Nay, lass. I'll not leave you, even in death."
Her eyes glistened in the moonlight. "You promise?"
"Aye, lass. I promise."
"Galen, I've something to tell you. I'm with child."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I suspected as much."
"You did?" she said, surprise clear in her voice.
"How could I not, with your sudden trips to the garderobe and your face turning white as a snowdrift whenever food was placed before you? Even Cook's venison stew could not sway you to eat at times."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I knew you'd tell me all in good time."
She chuckled. "Are you pleased?"
"Very."
She let out a sigh of contentment.
"What was that for?"
"You're finally well, and a bairn is on the way, I couldn't be happier."
"Nor could I," he said, spreading his hand over her belly. There was a time in his life Galen could never have imagined settling for one woman. But Sorcha was his life's blood, the very air he breathed, his reason for waking up each day, his reason to live.
Epilogue
Galen raked his fingers through his hair and once again paced the length of the corridor at Moorloch Castle. More than two hours had passed since the door of his bedchamber had closed—with his very pregnant wife on the other side. The bairn was coming into the world earlier than expected. He pressed his ear against the door and listened. Was Sorcha managing the birthing well? Was she in a lot of pain? If anything should happen to her, he didn't ken how he could go on living.
Kade grasped his shoulder. "She's doing fine, Galen. If she weren't, Jillian would have said so." Robbie, and their new daughter, Jenny, were in Moorloch's nursery tak
ing a nap.
He nodded. Though Galen was relieved Kade and Jillian were visiting Moorloch when the wee bairn decided to arrive, his fear for Sorcha's safety didn't lessen. He knew all too well how many births ended with the mother's death, the bairn's death, or in some cases, both. His own mother had died giving birth to Ewan. And as a lad of ten, he'd stood by her grave, numbly watching his father and other members of the clan shovel dirt onto her coffin. Galen had wanted to jump on top of it, to stop them from covering her up. He'd forced back the tears then, but once he was alone, he'd cried until he could cry no more. The woman he adored was forever gone from his life. He couldn't bear the thought of the same thing happening to Sorcha.
"Sit down, my son," his father said, patting the empty spot on the settle beside him.
Blowing out a long breath, Galen did as he asked.
"Galen, I'd wager your dear mother is on your mind this day. But this time will be different, wait and see. As you well ken, Elis has birthed many children in her lifetime. And then there's Elizabeth. She came through the birthing in good health, as did the bairn, Jamie."
Galen had feared for his sister as well, and was greatly relieved when she birthed the lad with no trouble at all. He closed his eyes, praying that what his father said was true and both Sorcha and the bairn would be fine.
Nutmeg scratched at the bedchamber door and meowed. The cat couldn't understand why his mistress would not allow him entrance.
The high pitched cry of an infant suddenly broke the silence. Galen jumped to his feet, anxious to see his wife and new bairn. A second cry soon joined the first. Two bairns? He looked at his father, then at the others, grinning from ear to ear.
After what seemed an eternity, Jillian opened the bedchamber door. "Galen, meet your new daughter," she said, holding the tiny bundle out to him.
He hesitated a moment before carefully taking her into his arms. "A fine wee lass she is," he said, gently kissing her soft cheek. "Sorcha?" Galen held his breath, as he waited for her answer.
Jillian blew out a long breath. "As well as to be expected, after birthing two bairns."
"I wish to see her."
"Nay, not yet. I'll let you ken when she's ready," she said, before reentering the bedchamber. She soon returned with the second bairn in her arms. "And this is your son." Jillian said, smiling and holding the child out to Galen.
