Page 19 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Cassandra straightened and met his gaze, trying to keep her voice steady despite the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
“She’s stirrin’. I think she’s respondin’ to the medicine.”
Hunter’s eyes went wide, disbelief and hope crashing together in an instant. “She is?” Without waiting for confirmation, he walked to Elena’s side, lowering himself into the chair beside the bed.
“Elena, lass,” Hunter murmured softly, brushing a stray curl from his daughter’s forehead. “It’s yer faither, I’m here now. Come on, me wee one, open yer eyes for me. Ye’re safe.”
Jessica hovered behind him, wringing her hands nervously, while Daniel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Cassandra watched silently, her heart clenched tight in her chest. The tenderness in Hunter’s voice struck deeper than she expected.
Elena’s eyelids fluttered, and a weak voice broke through the tense air. “Faither…?”
Hunter’s breath hitched as his hand gently clasped hers. “Aye, I’m here, me sweet. I’m right here.”
The girl stirred again, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Aunty Jessica… Uncle Daniel…?”
Cassandra blinked, surprise flickering across her face. “Aunty?”
The group fell into a brief, stunned silence as all eyes turned toward Cassandra. Her cheeks colored slightly, while Daniel looked at Hunter with confusion.
Jessica was the first to speak, her voice warm but edged with awkwardness. “Aye, I’ve always been an aunty to the lass. Helped raise her since she was a bairn.”
Hunter didn’t look away from Elena, his focus entirely on his daughter. “They’re family, Cassandra. Me cousins, Jessica and Daniel have been there since the beginnin’.”
Cassandra forced a small smile, though her heart ached. “I see… That’s… good for her.”
Relief rushed through her.
Hunter finally looked up, his gaze steady and unreadable. “It means a lot to all of us. Elena’s lucky to be surrounded by folk who love her.”
Cassandra nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “She’s strong. The medicine’s workin’, but she’ll need rest… and plenty of care.”
Hunter’s voice softened again as he turned back to Elena. “I’ll nae leave her side. She’ll get everythin’ she needs, I swear it.”
Cassandra took a step back, feeling suddenly like an intruder in a moment too tender for her presence. “I’ll… give ye all some time. Call for me if she worsens.”
Jessica reached out and gently touched Cassandra’s arm. “Thank ye for what ye’ve done so far. Truly.”
Cassandra managed another weak smile, her voice soft. “It’s me duty.”
Without another word, she turned and moved to the other patients, her heart lighter than before, but still confused. If Jessica was not his wife, then who was? Who was Elena's mother?
Cassandra moved steadily through the great hall, her hands light but sure as she checked each patient. To her relief, many had begun to stir, their breathing stronger and color returning to their cheeks. A quiet sense of accomplishment settled over her, though she knew the fight wasn’t over yet. The worst had passed, but their recovery still needed careful tending.
“Fetch clean cloths and fresh water,” Cassandra instructed the maids, her voice calm but firm. “And ye, make sure the broth is warm—feed only small sips to those who can swallow.”
She turned to another, her eyes sharp. “Change the linens for those who’ve sweated through them, but mind ye daenae wake them if they’re restin’ easy.”
The maids bustled around her, following her orders without hesitation. Cassandra’s focus remained sharp, but her eyes betrayed her heart’s distraction. Every few moments, her gaze drifted toward the corner of the room where Hunter sat at Elena’s side. His broad shoulders were hunched forward, and his hand remained clasped around his daughter’s delicate fingers.
Why does it pain me so to see him there? He’s a faither worried for his child, nothin’ more…
But the softness in his eyes, the fierce protectiveness in every gesture—those were not things she could ignore so easily. Cassandra straightened a blanket around an elderly patient, willing her thoughts back to the task at hand.
Ye’re here to heal, nae to pine after a man who’s already tied to a life ye cannae be part of.
Yet the ache in her chest lingered, stubborn and unwelcome. She gave another order, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.
“Keep the fires burnin’. The chill’ll do nay favors for those still weak.”
