Page 10 of Lost with a Scot
“She understands ye?” the boy asked from behind him.
“Aye. Animals mayna know all of our words, but they hear our tone and see our body language. They can tell better than us when someone is lying.”
“How do they do that?”
“Yer body betrays ye. Ye might be speaking sweet words, but if she sees yer eyes dart to a riding crop, she’ll know yer thinking about striking her. Ye should always be honest about yer intentions with animals. ’Tis the only way ye’ll earn their trust.”
He examined Bob’s foreleg and changed the bindings. Then he carefully brushed out the horse’s coat and combed tangles from her mane. That care earned Bob’s trust more than anything else, and by the time he finished she was nuzzling his shoulder and nibbling at his shirtsleeve.
Aiden exited the stall and gave the stable lad instructions to feed her and bring fresh water, and then he left and headed for the doctor’s home. He’d taken care of one injured female—now he needed to see to the one lying upstairs in his bed.
* * *
Anna couldn’t stayin bed, no matter how tired she was. After Aiden left the room, she walked to the small window. She leaned against the frame and gazed upon the little village below her. She glimpsed Aiden speaking to a man in the courtyard of the inn. Although she couldn’t hear what was being said, Aiden’s body language was taut and angry. Anna pressed her nose to the glass, trying to get a better few of the encounter—or rather, of Aiden. The man said something, and then Aiden threw a punch, felling the man to the ground. Anna gasped, but despite the show of violence, she wasn’t afraid of Aiden.
At first, she was shocked by his behavior. Aiden stood tall, strong, and fearless over the other man, but he did no further harm when he easily could have. As much as Anna knew she was a mystery to herself, her quiet, handsome, strong rescuer was a mystery too.
The thought sent a little flutter through her chest. She expected few other men would have been as honorable with her as he had been. He could have taken advantage of her, but hadn’t. When he disappeared into the stables by the inn, she looked toward the small houses and beyond to the blue-gray sea on the horizon.
Her heart panged with a deep ache that had no explanation as she gazed out at the endless sea. With a sigh, she abandoned the window and approached the cheval mirror that sat atop the washstand. She could tell she wasn’t a pale-faced creature, but pale from her ordeal rather than pale by nature. She could see the hint of sun in her skin that would gleam once she felt better. Her hair was a mess of dark waves that turned russet as they dried.
Bruises shadowed her wrists and forearms. She drew her fingertips along them and had a flash of memory—tying the ropes of a broken mast around her arms.Shehad made these marks herself... She flinched at the flashes of memory that were there, but murky as though half sunk beneath the waters that had nearly killed her.
Anna couldn’t deny her relief at remembering at least that much. There was something terrifying about waking up bruised and injured while having no memory of how she’d come to be that way. At least it hadn’t been done to her by another person.
Someone knocked on the door, breaking through her meandering thoughts. A woman’s voice came through the door. “Miss Anna?”
She crossed the room and braced herself against one of the bedposts to rest. “Yes?”
“Mr. Kincade sent up some food for ye,” the woman said.
Anna opened the door and let the woman inside. She was a spry creature with sharp features and gray-streaked hair pulled back into a loose knot on top of her head. Anna had the sense this was not a woman one should cross but that she could be kind and fair in her dealings.
The woman saw Anna half hidden behind the open door. “Ah, there ye are. Come and sit down before ye faint, lassie.” She set the tray down on the small table and motioned Anna over. “Come and eat—ye’re too thin. ’Tis makingmybones ache jes to look at ye. My name is Molly, an’ this is my inn. If ye need anything, ask for me, ye ken?”
“Thank you, Molly. I’m Anna.” She followed Molly to the edge of the bed and sat. “Could I ask you what may sound like a rather silly question?”
The innkeeper tilted her head curiously. “Ask, dearie.”
“Where... am I? Is this Scotland?”
At this Molly chuckled. “’Tis indeed. You’re in North Berwick on the east coast of Scotland.”
“Ah...” Anna sighed, relieved to realize she could picture Scotland’s coastline in her head and where North Berwick was.
Molly put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Ye look as weak as a kitten,” she muttered. “Ye shouldna be alone, not until Mr. Kincade returns.” She picked up a bowl of soup and handed it to Anna, along with a spoon. “Eat up, now. I’ll sit with ye.”
Anna accepted the food gratefully. Her stomach felt like a bottomless pit.
“Now, Anna, how did ye end up wrecked as ye were? What ship were ye sailing on?”
Anna ate a few spoonfuls before she answered. “I don’t remember...”
Molly’s brows rose. “Ye canna remember?”
“No. I remember nothing else about who I am or how I arrived in Scotland.” The admission depressed her more than she wished. Not knowing oneself was an odd and unsettling feeling. It felt silly too, like she should simply be able to just remember. But she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.
“Perhaps we had better fetch Dr. MacDonald back to tend to ye again?”
