Page 28 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
"Aye," Hunter replied. "I daenae want to disturb her rest, just a wee peek."
"I pray for her healin' every night. I'll be at the trainin’ grounds should ye need me," Daniel patted him on the back and left.
Hunter stepped down the rows of beds and cots in healing hall, his sharp gaze sweeping over the rows of resting patients. The scent of herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of sickness that still clung to the room.
Yet, there was a change—one he could not deny. Men and women who had once been too weak to lift their heads were now sitting up, eating, and even speaking in hushed voices.
His steps slowed as he approached the cot where his daughter, Elena, lay nestled beneath thick wool blankets. Her color had returned, no longer the pale, ghostly shade that had plagued her for weeks. Relief settled in his chest as she turned to him, bright-eyed and alert. He had spent too many nights fearing he would lose her, but now, thanks to Cassandra, she was stronger.
“Da,” Elena said softly, her small fingers curling around the edge of her blanket. “I feel better.”
Hunter lowered himself to sit beside her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Aye, lass, ye do look better,” he murmured. “That pleases me more than ye ken.”
She smiled sleepily but then tilted her head, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “Da… the healer, what is her name?”
Hunter exhaled, leaning back slightly. He knew this question would come sooner or later. “Her name is Cassandra. She’s from McAllister castle. Laird McAllister allowed me to bring her here to us when the sickness spread.”
Elena’s brows furrowed. “So, she doesnae belong here?”
Hunter hesitated. The wordbelongcaught him off guard, striking a chord deep within him. “Nay, lass. She came to help, but her home is elsewhere.”
Elena frowned, her small fingers twisting in the blanket. “Will she leave when everyone is well again?”
Something tightened in Hunter’s chest, an ache he did not expect. He had been so focused on the present, on making sure his people recovered, that he had not truly considered what came after.
Cassandra would leave eventually—back to McAllister, back to the life she had before steppin’ into his.
“Da?” Elena’s voice was quieter now, as if she could sense the change in his mood.
He cleared his throat, shaking off the strange weight pressing down on him. “Daenae think on that now, little one,” he said firmly. “Ye just focus on getting’ stronger.”
Elena still looked troubled, but she nodded slowly. “She’s kind,” she whispered. “She always talks to me when she checks me fever. And she tells me stories.”
Hunter wasn’t surprised. Cassandra had a way of making people feel safe, even when she tried to keep herself at a distance. He had seen it in the way the other patients looked at her, in the quiet respect she commanded without ever demanding it.
“She’s a good woman,” Hunter admitted, his voice low.
Elena yawned, her eyes growing heavy. “I hope she stays,” she murmured sleepily.
Hunter watched as she drifted off, her small hand resting on top of his. He stayed beside her, unmoving, listening to the steady sound of her breathing. His daughter’s words echoed in his mind, stirring something unsteady inside him.
Didhewant Cassandra to stay?
The thought unsettled him. He had spent years keeping his heart guarded, unwilling to let another woman hold any power over him. And yet, Cassandra was already burrowing into his thoughts, into his life, without even trying.
Hunter exhaled slowly, brushing his fingers lightly over Elena’s hand before standing. He needed to clear his head, to focus on what mattered. Cassandra was here to heal, nothing more.
And yet, as he turned to leave the hall, he found himself wondering what it would take to make her stay.
Hunter left the healing hall, the weight of Cassandra’s inevitable departure pressing heavily on his mind.
As he stepped into the corridor, his sharp gaze landed on a familiar figure at a distance. Cassandra. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before she turned abruptly, her skirts swishing as she hurried down the hall.
Without thinking, he followed, his long strides closing the distance quickly. But as he rounded the corner, she was gone. The corridor was empty, silent except for the faint cracklingof a torch on the wall. His jaw tightened as he called out, “Cassandra.”
There was no answer. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as a memory from the night before crept into his mind. He had seen her then, too, lingering in the corridor before slipping away the moment she noticed him. At first, he thought it was coincidence, but now the truth was clear—she was avoiding him.
Hunter's boots thudded heavily against the dirt as he walked toward the training grounds. His mood was dark. His mind churned with the thoughts he couldn’t shake, and he felt the weight of his anger pressing down on him.
