The figure rode closer and pulled to a halt. It was a man. His auburn hair fell in unruly waves around a rugged face adorned with a neatly trimmed beard that framed a strong jawline. His piercing blue eyes studied her with curiosity, as if trying to decipher how she had appeared out of nowhere. The man’s attire was strange. He wore a layered wrap made of traditional Scottish plaid, its colors vibrant against the gloomy backdrop of the moorland. It swayed gently as the horse stamped, revealing glimpses of well-muscled legs beneath.
“Are ye her, lass?” he asked in a deep voice.
Lily blinked. “Sorry? Am I what?”
“The healer. If so, I’ve come to meet ye.”
Lily’s mind raced, desperately trying to fill in the gaps of her fragmented memory. Though she had experienced blackouts before, this felt different—more unsettling.
“Um...I’m a bit confused,” she replied cautiously, her voice laced with apprehension. “I’m not sure how I ended up here.”
“Ye came up from Abbotsfield, aye?”
“Abbotsfield? The town down in the valley? I have some clients there.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of all this. “But they’re not on my rota for today.”
The man frowned. “Are ye a healer or aren’t ye?”
“I’m an occupational therapist.”
“A what?”
“I help people with their rehab.”
The man glanced at her bag and then back at her. “Can ye set a broken bone?”
“Well yes, that’s part of basic training.”
“Good enough for me. Come on.” He held his hand out to her.
Lily stared at it. “I beg your pardon?”
“Come on. We dinna have much time. Yer patient is waiting.”
Her patient? She rubbed her head again. “What patient?”
“The one who needs yer help,” the man replied, exasperation in his voice. “Why else do ye think they sent ye? I’ve come to take ye to him. It’s quicker to ride than travel by foot.”
Lily didn’t move. “From Abbotsfield?”
“Are ye daft, lass?” he snapped. “Aye, from Abbotsfield. Now, are ye going to come see this man or do I have to find somebody else?”
Lily stared. She wished she could put all the pieces together. She had been leaving Bettie’s house, she’d slipped, and then she’d ended up...here. Near Abbotsfield. Perhaps during the blackout she’d wandered in this direction, knowing her next patient was here. But...why would she do that? She’d been heading home. Hadn’t she?
None of this made any sense. But if the man could take her to Abbotsfield, she could take a quick look at this patient then call an Uber.
The man was still staring down at her, his hand held out.
“Um. All right.”
With a deep breath, Lily took his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm, and allowed him to pull her into the saddle in front of him.
The horse, a magnificent creature with a thick, dark mane and an intelligent look in its eyes, seemed to sense her unease, keeping still while she settled her weight. She felt the man’s arm wrap around her waist, steady and strong, like an anchor in a tempestuous sea.
“What’s yer name, lass,” he asked by her ear.
“Lily,” she replied. “Lily Jones.”
“Oskar Galbraith. Now hang on tight. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
