Page 52 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
He heard the sound of movement. Fighting past unconsciousness, he blinked his eyes open. Three worried faces peered down at him. Alisdair stood at his left, Farlan at his right, and beside Alisdair, was Elsie, her brow a worried furrow of lines.
“I am…” he tried to speak, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“He needs water,” Alisdair said, turning away from him.
A few seconds later, Farlan had his hands beneath Keane’s head, while Alisdair brought the cup to his lips. It was cold, and refreshing. And though some of it spilled past his mouth, trickling onto his neck and into his hair, he didn’t care.
After several sips, he went to lift his shoulders off the bed. Pain exploded in his side, and he winced. It felt like someone was stabbing him with a hot poker.
“Argh!”
“Aye,” Farlan said, his gentle hand pushing him down again. “Ye’ll nae be moving fer another day or two.
Keane looked up at the old man. “How long have I been here?”
“This is yer second day, me son,” the old man said kindly. “Yer injuries were severe. Ye’re lucky that ye’re alive at all.”
A tired smirk lifted at the corner of his mouth. “Ye cannae kill a bad thing, Farlan.”
The healer grinned and nodded. “Nor a good thing, it appears.”
Turning to Alisdair, Keane held out his hand. His closest friend stepped forward and took hold of his forearm with a strong grip. “It is good tae have ye back.”
“It is good tae be back, and I have ye tae thank fer it. Had ye nae arrived when ye did, I would surely be dancing with the gods by now.”
Alisdair nodded. “Dinnae worry about that. Ye are safe now. Ye need yer rest, fer we are all eager tae see ye return tae health.”
Still holding Alisdair’s arm, Keane gazed up at Elsie. “And ye,” he said, his eyes softening. “Ye are the one I have tae thank most o’ all.”
Elsie shook her head. “None o’ that matters now. Ye need tae rest. There will be plenty o’ time fer all that later.”
He then felt her warm hand rest upon his thigh.
Exhaustion washed over him, the effort of conversing draining what little energy he had. He closed his eyes again, if only to rest them, but the pull of slumber was so strong, he soon succumbed to it.
When he woke again, a serene silence enveloped him. He remained still, blinking at the ceiling for another minute, before trying to lift his head. He winced as a slicing sensation cut through his side again, though it felt a little less painful than the last time he had tried to move.
“Dinnae try tae move,” Alisdair whispered, his form approaching from somewhere else in the room.
“What time is it?” Keane asked.
“A little before dawn,” Alisdair said.
Keane groaned, shifting in the bed. “I have tae move. Me back aches. I’m uncomfortable.”
Alisdair was now by his bedside, and slipping a hand behind his upper back, he said, “Then let me help ye.”
He managed to maneuver Keane into a more comfortable position, though Keane hissed. Once settled, Alisdair fixed the pillows behind him for better support. It was then that Keane noticed Elsie in the corner of the room, curled up in a chair sleeping, covered with a blanket.
Catching Keane’s expression of surprise, Alisdair said, “She willnae leave. She’s been here day and night since we brought ye back.”
Keane frowned. “How long?”
“Four days.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Aye,” Alisdair nodded, sitting beside him, “she’s a stubborn one. Even Farlan couldnae convince her.”
