Page 20 of A Highland Healer Captured
The old guilt pressed heavier. His wife’s body shielding their son, his own too-late hands dragging them apart. Every choice since had been a penance. He’d razed clans, spilled blood, broken oaths. But still he woke in the dark, hearing her last breath.
He straightened, shoving the memory back where it belonged. “I’ll cross the bridge with MacLennan when I must. Until then, the MacLennan lass stays.”
Mason blew out a long breath, then grinned faintly. “Then may God help her. She’s got more fire than ten men, that one. Ye’ll nae keep her chained easy.”
“I daenae need her chained,” Zander said. “I need her hands on me son.”
A knock interrupted them. Zander’s head lifted, his temper sparking.
“Enter,” he barked.
The door creaked, and Cora slipped in. Her dark hair was neatly braided, her expression bright as she bobbed a quick curtsy. “Welcome home, Zan. I heard the commotion. They say ye’ve brought someone back with ye.”
Zander sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Ye hear everything too quickly, Cora.”
She smiled sweetly. “Naeeverything. Only what yer men let slip.” Her eyes sharpened, curious and anxious. “She’s to help.”
“Aye.”
Relief shone across her face, genuine enough to ease Zander’s tight shoulders. “Thank God,” she breathed.
In that moment, he wasn’t sure if Cora was speaking about Grayson fully, or him. Even at seventeen, she had a funny way of speaking in riddles sometimes. Zander reckoned that he got it from her brother, perhaps.
Zander forced his voice back to command. “Take her through the healing rooms tomorrow. Show her the apothecary, the stores. Whatever herbs, salves, or supplies we have, she’s to see them. Anything she needs, she’ll have.”
Cora bobbed her head again a sheepish smile spreading across her lips. “Of course. I’ll see to it.”
“Ye’ve already met her?”
“Somewhat.”
Zander’s eyes slid to Mason. “Ye’ll follow her. Make sure she doesnae try to slip a knife between our ribs while she’s at it.”
Mason’s brow arched. “So, a nursemaid and a jailer, is it? She’ll be thrilled.”
Zander ignored the quip, turning back to his maps. “Can ye bring her to me just now?”
“Aye, I’ll fetch’er then.”
His chest felt hollow. He had secured the healer, faced down his council, silenced his doubts. But all he could do now was wait, and pray that God himself worked through Skylar Dunlop’s hands.
Cora sat in her favorite chair in the corner, picked out her favorite novel, and melted away into the shadow.
Mason brought her to him just past dusk. Zander had been waiting, hands braced on the edge of his desk, a half-read letter spread beneath his palms. He hadn’t read a word in the last quarter hour.
The door opened. Mason’s voice rumbled, “The lass.”
“Leave us,” Zander said without lifting his eyes.
A beat of hesitation, then the door closed again. He heard Mason’s tread fade down the corridor. Silence stretched, and then her voice was sharp as ever.
“Do ye always order folk about like hounds?”
Zander finally looked at her. She stood near the hearth, arms crossed tight, chin lifted as if daring him to strike her down for her insolence.
“Do ye always bare yer teeth like a cat?” he countered.
Her lips parted as though to snap back, but then her gaze flicked to the far corner. He followed it.
