Page 29 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“How is Dunn?” Ayla asked, glancing into the house, where a tattered curtain blocked the entrance. Archer watched the woman’s face fall, and she glanced over her shoulder.
“The same,” she answered. Ayla gave the woman’s shoulder a squeeze.
“We’ve brought someone to help,” she said, smiling with encouragement. “A very talented healer.”
Ayla nodded in Feya’s direction as she gathered her bags and carried them into the house. He appreciated Ayla’s use of the word “we”, though he would never have thought to send Feya to the villages. Still, it was kind of Ayla to endear him to these people.
He spent the afternoon as a shadow, silently watching Feya as she laid her hand on feverish foreheads and applied bandages to new wounds. He shook the hands of the men who stood nearby, anxiously looking over their sick children and gave comforting words to the children whose mothers lay in bed.
He was amazed by Feya’s instincts and the way she knew the perfect thing to pull from her bag. Ayla stood nearby, equallytransfixed. She worked as an assistant, but her attention was on Feya. She watched her every move, desperate to memorize them. For the first time, he saw Ayla’s interest in healing in a new light.
“A few miles up there’s a boy with a broken arm. Holly set it in a sling last week,” Ayla said as they mounted their horses for the fourth time that afternoon. Archer cast his eyes to the sky, judging the time based on the sun’s trajectory.
“Last stop then,” he said. He didn’t want Ayla or Feya out after dark. While none of the villagers had asked where Feya came from, he was still wary of too many people knowing he had a new healer at the castle. He couldn’t risk rousing suspicions in the event any of Cohen’s men came to ask questions. Of course he could kill any man who came looking, but there were Feya’s siblings to think about. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to them.
Music reached their ears before they caught sight of the next village. Archer heard children’s laughter and the skilled voice of a female singer who knew how to send her voice across a crowd. Feya glanced at him with a smile, as if she couldn’t believe their luck, and then the women rushed forward, eager to join the festivities.
“Wait up,” Archer called, but they were already urging their horses forward, drawn in by the sounds of unabashed joy ahead.
14
They found themselves in the midst of a celebration. A handful of men sat on barrels and crates, playing fiddles and drums. A woman with graying hair cradled an accordion on her lap, her fingers moving with the expertise of someone who was raised with the instrument’s language. In front of them, villagers danced in the town square as children ran in and out of the couples, clutching candied apples or chicken legs.
“My Lady!” Someone cried, and heads swiveled in Ayla’s direction, the whole town suddenly alert to the strangers who had just crashed their dinnertime celebration.
“What are we celebrating?” Ayla asked, beaming at the faces beneath her. All day Feya had been awed by Ayla’s ease with these people. She had wrongly assumed that a girl who grew up with the riches Ayla had would find it difficult to connect with these poor villagers. But it was entirely not the case. Feya saw with certainty that Ayla loved the people in this town and treated them like her own family. In turn, they loved her.
“Ye brought friends,” a little girl said. She stood at Ayla’s side and tugged at her skirts. Ayla nodded as she dismounted.
“Aye. Me friend,” she said, nodding toward Feya. “And me brother.”
The little girl gasped, and some of the adults who overheard looked over with surprised expressions.
“Ye have a brother?” The pigtailed child asked. Feya smiled as she dropped down from her horse and thanked the man who waited to take the reins. A tall man in a wool cap stepped forward, his eyes on Archer as he swung his legs gracefully off of his horse.
“Me Laird,” he said with a gentle bow. “It’s a great honor. We welcome ye.”
Whispers ricocheted through the crowd and eyes darted in their direction. The news even reached the musicians, who slowed their tune and then stopped playing completely. The whole town stared at them. No, not atthem.At Archer.
“Thank ye,” he said, nodding at them. “But please, don’t stop the party on my account. Let’s have some music.”
A cheer went up from the crowd, and the man on the fiddle counted them all in. Soon, the musicians were playing a lively tune, and Feya and Ayla were being pulled by young girls, guiding them into the group dance. Feya recognized it from herown town, though it had been years since she danced it. She held on to the hands of the villagers and let her feet move on instinct, kicking and crossing in unison with the locals.
“You’re good,” Ayla cried, raising her voice to be heard over the laughter and the music.
The circle spun, and Feya sought out Archer. He stood among the men, graciously accepting a pint of beer someone had just poured from a nearby barrel. She saw him smash his glass enthusiastically with the men’s and then he dropped his head back, taking the drink in three huge gulps.
“So hedoesken how to have fun,” Feya laughed, and Ayla followed her eyes to see what she was talking about.
“Aye,” she nodded. “He used to have a lot of fun. But the war made him forget.”
A wave of sadness washed over Feya as she recognized the truthfulness of Ayla’s words. She had a sudden longing to know Archer as he was as a young man, when hope and happiness still loomed large in his chest. She could picture the bravado that would come from his strength and confidence, that youthful belief that nothing could hurt him. She wanted to know that Archer.
“Over here, me Lady,” a woman said, and she soon pulled Ayla and Feya from the dance. “Blackberry tarts. Made from the fruit Holly planted last season.”
She pressed the tarts into their hands, each one carefully crafted with criss-crossed dough holding in luscious blackberry jam. As soon as Feya bit into it, she felt the juices flow down her chin, and she and Ayla laughed and groaned at the deliciousness.
“How wonderful,” Feya smiled, and she went back in for another bite.
