Page 36 of Highland Crown
Isabella dove inside her bag before remembering she’d intended to use her scalpel for other purposes. Taking it from the folds of her dress, she sliced open the sleeve of his shirt and inspected the new wound.
The motion of the cart and the muscles of his arm made it nearly impossible to tell if the bullet had struck the bone. It wasn’t shattered, at least, and she could see where the ball had exited, but she feared a piece of the bullet or a splinter of bone might still be lodged in there. She couldn’t do anything about it here, however.
“You take off my arm, and I’ll never save you again.” He was watching her and, for the moment, appeared to be lucid.
His concern was hardly unfounded. In wartime, surgeons were quick to amputate a limb if a bone was shattered or a bullet or shrapnel remained embedded in the flesh. Of course, they rarely received a patient immediately after an injury was sustained. And the delays were deadly. She’d seen it herself in Wurzburg during the war against the French. By the time soldiers reached the surgeon’s table, too often the wounds had already begun to fester. Untreated, the deaths were unspeakably painful. Taking off the limb could preserve a life, crippling though it might be.
But she would do everything humanly possible to save Cinaed from either of those fates.
She tried to reach into her bag for a cloth to cover and bind his arm, but he caught her hand. When he entwined their fingers, her heart swelled unexpectedly, and a knot formed in her throat.
What was happening to her? For her entire adult life, she’d been a woman of reason. She prided herself on her detached, clear-thinking approach to each patient. But this man had done so much for her. His life, his well-being mattered to her.Hemattered. Even as she was assessing the body temperature, the firmness of the grip,the complexion of the skin, she was not only worrying about her patient, she was worried abouthim. She prayed that caring for him as a man wouldn’t weaken her judgment as a doctor.
He flinched as the cart rolled over a rut and then expelled a deep breath. “I understand you. I want you to understand me.” The whisper was pained. “You trusted me. And I trust you. So I’m telling you now, my arm stays.”
“I understand.”
As he held her hand, the impact of everything they’d gone through rained down on her. It was like hail in a summer storm, pelting her and leaving her with a confused mix of pain and awe. She tried to blink back unexpected tears, tasting their saltiness in the back of her throat. The shield she’d always been able to erect was gone. She no longer stood apart as an observer and healer. The battle was no longer surrounding her; it was inside of her.
She freed her hand and found the strip of cloth she was searching for. Binding his arm tightly, she hoped the pressure was enough to slow the bleeding.
“How does the arm look?”
She could give him a diagnosis based on her medical training. But when one considered the fever, the wound in his chest, and the physical dangers they were not yet free of, he had far more to worry about than just his arm.
Isabella had to say something, however. She took out another cloth and wrapped it even tighter. “I don’t know how you’re continuing to manage. One minute you’re barely conscious, the next you’re ready to fight a dozen men. Based on what I know of you, I’d say you shouldbe able to fight again by the time we reach your kinsman’s house.”
He caught her wrist. His strength was waning, but he had something he wanted to say. She brought her face close to his.
“Searc will be no friend to you. You cannot trust him. He’ll sell you to either side if he thinks he can line his pocket.”
“Why are we going there, then?”
“He’s a Mackintosh. And he’s been true to me in the past. I trust him now to honor and protect what is mine.”
Her mind raced. Isabella would need to find a different shelter for herself. They would take Cinaed to the man’s house in Maggot Green and she would go.
At the inn, her reluctance to let him leave had taken her by surprise. She’d made a mistake then. Rather than consider all that could go wrong, she’d acted on what she hoped would happen. She’d wanted to trust the innkeeper. She’d wanted to believe that John would return to the inn. She’d wanted to believe the girls were safe. And she’d blindly walked into a trap.
Cinaed had not trusted in hopes. He’d stayed and put himself in a deadly position to help her. How could shenotcare for this man?
She touched his wounded arm and saw the blood already soaking through the binding. She would think as a physicianandas a woman, for she was both of those things.
“Your kin Searc will need to find a doctor for you immediately. Someone must tend to your arm and—”
“You’ll do it. You’re staying with me when we get there.”
A feeling of happiness billowed up within her. He wanted her with him. But there was still a problem. She had no doubts about her ability as a doctor, but she was a horrible liar.
“Tell him we’re husband and wife.” He took her hand again, his eyes drifting shut. “Searc will protect you if he thinks you’re mine.”
CHAPTER11
The way was long, the wind was cold,
The Minstrel was infirm and old;
His withered cheek, and tresses gray,
