Page 10 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
She saw that he didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, or perhaps he was too focused on the news he’d just received.
He thanked the maid and turned away, motioning for Cassandra to follow. She quickly fell into step behind him, trying to shake the disheartening thoughts from her mind.
Her focus needed to remain on the patients and Lady Elena, not on the Laird, not on the stirrings of unwanted emotions that were already complicating things.
Cassandra’s thoughts lingered on Lady Elena’s condition. She couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was, and why Hunter was so concerned.
Laird McDougal had never shown her any interest beyond the immediate need for a healer, and yet there was something deeper between him and Lady Elena.
They reached a door at the end of the hall, where Hunter paused and looked over at Cassandra, his gaze unreadable.
“Ye can go in,” he said gruffly, his hand resting on the door handle. “Elena’s condition is still uncertain, and we need all the help we can get.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened as Hunter led her into the great hall of Castle McDougal. The room was packed with people—men, women, and children—many of them lying on pallets, some with fevered brows and pale faces.
The sight struck her like a blow to the chest; she had not expected to find so many ailing souls in one place. Her mind raced as she took in the scene, the sheer volume of the suffering, and the overwhelming responsibility now resting on her shoulders.
“With the castle’s healer fallin’ ill,” he said, his tone grim. “I sent word to others, but the rest of the healers refused to come. They dinnae want to risk catchin’ whatever illness is spreadin’.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, her hands curling into fists as anger flared within her.
“They should nae be called healers if they refuse to tend the sick,” Cassandra snapped, her voice heated with disbelief. “A healer’s oath is to help, nay matter the risk. If they turn their backs on those in need, they dishonor their vows, and they shouldnae call themselves healers any longer.”
She could feel her pulse quickening, the blood rushing in her ears, but she knew there was no time to dwell on her outrage.
She took a deep breath and pushed her emotions aside, focusing on the task at hand. Hunter remained silent, his expression unreadable as she turned toward the patients scattered across the hall.
She followed Hunter through the rows of the sick. As she approached, she was surprised to see him stop beside a little girl, no older than eight, who looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Her small hand was gripped tightly in Hunter’s, and she appeared to be too weak to sit up on her own.
Cassandra’s heart ached as she observed the scene, but she didn’t let herself become distracted. She moved toward the girl, her healer’s instincts taking charge once more.
“Her ailments?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern as she crouched down beside Hunter.
“She’s been feverish for a while now,” Hunter replied quietly, his voice unusually gentle. “But she hasnae been able to keep any food down, and her strength is failin’ her. I’m nae sure what else to do for her.”
He looked up at Cassandra, his face marked with the same frustration she had seen earlier. She could tell he was trying to remain calm, trying to be strong for the people under his care, but the weariness in his eyes spoke volumes.
Cassandra’s hands moved over the little girl, checking her fever and pulse with the precision of someone who had spent years tending to the ill. The child’s tiny body was burning with fever, but her eyes were wide with fear, clearly frightened by the unfamiliar faces around her.
"She's very heated," she said.
"Aye, she's been like this for days now," he replied.
Cassandra knew that the situation was dire—this child needed care quickly, and there was no time to waste. She looked up at Hunter, her voice soft but firm.
“We need to get her cooled down, quickly,” Cassandra said, already moving to gather the necessary herbs and supplies. “Her fever is too high, and she could fall into delirium if we daenae act fast.”
Hunter nodded sharply, his face grim as he gently lifted the girl into his arms, holding her close as Cassandra prepared what was needed to bring the fever down.
The room, filled with the sound of whispers and restless movements, seemed to fall away as Cassandra focused solely onthe task at hand. She could hear the soft, labored breathing of the little girl as she worked, her heart heavy with the weight of what needed to be done. There was no time for hesitation, no time for doubts; she was a healer, and she had sworn to do whatever it took to save lives.
As she worked, Cassandra watched as Hunter sat beside the little girl, his large hands gently stroking her damp hair. She found herself intrigued by his tenderness, a side of him she had not expected. The way he cared for the child, his concern etched deeply into his features, made her wonder if there was more to the laird than the fierce exterior he usually wore.
But she quickly dismissed the thought, reminding herself that he was still a man with his own burdens, and she had no business pondering his personal life.
Stay with the work. That's yer focus now.
As she continued tending to the sick, Hunter looked up at her with an intensity that almost made her forget her duties.
