Page 7 of Saved By the Highland Beast
“I’ll say it up yer left nostril if that will make ye hear any better!” Anthony threatened as he poked his finger in Hamish’s cheek.
“Enough,” Dean roared when he noticed that Sophia was beginning to shy away from the pair. It was hard to understand that the pair loved each other like brothers if you didn’t know them very well. Unfolding his arms, he walked out of the shadows and addressed the men, who immediately stopped arguing and backed away, standing to attention. “Has the cabin been cleaned and set to rights for the lady?”
“Aye, my laird,” Hamish said quickly as he shoved his elbow into Anthony’s ribs, making him step to the side. “A fresh bedroll has been placed on the floor. I’ve checked the room for any signs of spiders or wee little animals that may have posed a threat.” His chest puffed out a few inches as he spoke. “The fire was lit beneath a fresh cauldron of water, an’ the herbs the healer sent along have been placed on the table with a change of fresh clothes from one of the men.” He stood ramrod straight, as if he was reporting to a general.
“Good, man,” Dean said with a nod. “I’ll take the lady into the cabin an’ see that she has everythin’ she needs. Ye sorry lot can stay back here an’ make sure that the coast remains clear,” he instructed as he helped Sophia up and led her away. “An’ mind ye, catch somethin’ to eat, the lady is probably starvin’ by now.”
“Naethin’ will get past us, my laird. Dinner will be ready as soon as we can. I saw a few hares on our way into the forest. I’ll sniff one out an’ have it roastin’ ‘afore too long,” Hamish said proudly.
“Check all of the men an’ see that naebody has any wounds. I’ll come an’ see to them meself when I’m done with the lass.”
“I’ll dae that right away, my laird,” Hamish uttered quickly before Anthony could speak.
Dean nodded as he passed the men on his way to the cabin, leading Sophia by the arm, but not before he heard Anthony whispering under his breath, “Suck up.”
* * *
Dean guided Sophia toward the cabin that lay snuggly nestled in the center of the woods surrounded by towering birch trees and elms. The men were by the fire, just a stone’s throw away from the cabin.
He pushed open the door and allowed her to enter first before following suit, pulling the door closed behind him.
The inside of the cabin was warm and inviting, albeit a bit dusty, with spiders having made their homes in every nook and cranny. The fire crackled in the grate of the stone hearth that sat at the back of the room. The water steamed and boiled in a small iron kettle that hung from a hook above the flames. Two wooden chairs and a table had been wiped and placed beside the fire with a few pouches of what looked like herbs and bandages on them.
“Ye will be sleepin’ in here tonight,” the laird stated, walking over to the chairs and taking a seat.
“Alone?” Sophia asked a little too quickly, eliciting a glare from him. Was she accusing them of trying to take advantage of her?
“Aye, alone.” He reached over and began arranging the pouches on the table. “Yer amongst decent men now, Miss Harrison. We are nae the English dogs who tried to rob ye of yer virtue. Me men and I will be sleepin’ by the fire.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said apologetically, clutching the blanket a little closer to her chest. “Thank you for saving me back there. I don’t know what I would have done if you and your men hadn’t come along. I owe you a great debt.”
Dean nodded in response and continued to arrange the herbs before standing and retrieving the kettle from the fire with a mangled old cloth, which he tossed to the side. “Dae ye ken how to dress yer own wounds?” he asked unceremoniously when she remained in her spot without moving a muscle.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about dressing wounds,” she admitted.
“I can help ye clean your wounds, but if ye fear that it’s improper for me or one of me men to see ye in a state of undress, I can show ye what to do an’ leave. Ye dinnae ken any of us or what we may do. I ken that ladies of London follow certain… rules.”
Her irritation rose slightly at his subtle accusations of her non-existent grandeur. “I would appreciate any kind of help you can give me,” she said pointedly. “I think you and your men have more than proven your intentions to protect my honor and virtue.”
Dean looked up at her in surprise at her boldness once again before gesturing toward the seat in front of him.
Sophia hesitated for a moment.
Why do I always have to be so snappy with my replies?
She admonished herself for wanting to save face instead of asking the laird to simply show her how to use the herbs. Walking across the room, she took the chair he offered to her and sat across from him.
“Ye will have to remove the blanket if I’m to dress yer wounds.”
She panicked for a second but tried her best to not let him see. Carefully lowering the garment, she exposed her shoulders one at a time before letting the cover slip completely to the floor. She blushed slightly when his hot gaze burned into the skin of her bare arms and the mounds of her breasts.
“Is this your cabin?” she asked, turning her head to the room at large in an attempt to divert the attention.
“Nay,” he answered, then reached over to the table to retrieve a fresh stretch of bandage. He placed it in a bowl before sprinkling in some herbs and pouring the steaming water over everything. “This cabin is a halfway point for hunters an’ travelers to rest. We use it every time we come this way an’ make sure to leave it in a good condition for the next group of people.”
“Aren’t you scared vagrants might move in?”
“An’ what if they do?” Sophia noticed how his jaw clenched as he spoke. “They might need it more than we do, I dinnae begrudge a man a roof over his head. Nae when I have a castle an’ food on me table. Tomorrow I might be the one that needs help, an’ I’ll be grateful for a place like this an’ kindness from strangers.”
