“Ye are a tender woman, Evie, and I am grateful.”
She didn’t know what to say. The compliment made her blush. Quite a feat since she thought that trait had left her years ago. When she returned with the pills and water, she found him frowning down into the cup.
“Am I supposed to eat that muck now?” His look said he hoped she would answerno.
She laughed and took it away, replacing it with a fresh cup of water. “No. Take your pebbles while I fix a cup for myself. I fear I’m less than human until I’ve had my morning tea.”
“So ye are one of the Fae?” The awe in his voice matched the leeriness flashing in his eyes.
“What?” She tossed out the spent tea leaves, added fresh, and pushed the pot of water deeper into the coals to get it boiling again.
“Ye said ye were nay human.” He shrugged and made a swiping motion that included her as well as all of her things. “That would explain much—ye being one of the Fae and all.”
Delusions. Unable to grasp reality. The blow to his head appeared to have damaged his reasoning. She had to get him to a medical facility. Soon. “I promise I am not one of the Fae. I’m as normal as you are.”
“I have yet to see that, lass.”
Time to change the subject. “Once you’ve dressed, if you feel you can manage it, shall we try to make the walk to my car?” She sipped the hot, black tea, a purr almost escaping her as the wondrous stuff recharged her system.
“Make it to your car? Is that where ye live?” He stood and stretched to his full impressive stature, unashamed in his glorious nakedness like a powerful god descended from the heavens. “I’ve never heard of a place calledCar.”
“Uhm… sorry?” She blinked, unable to remember what he had just asked. Always one to focus on a patient’s health instead of their appearance, her staunch professionalism slipped in appreciation of the impeccable view of Chieftain MacTaggart’s sculpted physique. After all, she was a woman. “What did you say?”
“Car,” he repeated, flinching as he pulled his tunic down over his head. “Is that yer home?”
“No,” she answered slowly, trying to choose the least upsetting explanation as possible. Poor man. What century did he think himself from? It certainly wasn’t the current one. “My car is my transport. The way I get around.”
“Ah.” He relaxed with a smile that fully displayed the handsome dimple in his left cheek. “Caris yer horse’s name then.”
“In a manner of speaking.” She didn’t want to dive too headlong into his world, or she’d never get him inside the vehicle once he realized a car wasn’t a horse.
“I wouldha thought ye’d bring the beast closer to camp. Did ye see to it once I slept?”
“I left it in a safe place. We’ll go there once you’ve dressed, and I’ve packed everything up.”
He yanked on a boot and flinched again but didn’t lose his balance. That gave her hope.
By the time she doused the fire and repacked her bag, he’d finished dressing and watched her from his seat on a boulder. The intensity of his stare made the back of her neck tingle, the same way it had while they slept snuggled like spoons in a drawer. She scrubbed away the feeling, then hoisted her pack in place and hooked her thumbs through the padded straps. “Do you have the strength to walk a bit?”
His expression hardened into a scowl. “Aye.”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult.” She turned eastward, determined to follow the stream to the footbridge. The main trail back to the car park would be right there.
In two broad strides, he caught up with her, took hold of her arm, and pulled her to a stop. With a tip of his head toward her pack, he held out his hand. “It isna proper that ye should carry such whilst I walk with nothing. Give it to me. I shall bear it for ye.”
“I think not, my good sir.” She would entertain his delusions up to a point. Without thinking, she reached up and gently rested her fingertips on the bandage wrapped around his head. “You’ve done well considering the bashing you took. Concentrate on keeping steady, agreed? I’ve carried this pack more miles than you can imagine.”
When he reached up and covered her hand with his, she jerked away. With the firm tone she always used with her more stubborn patients, she added, “I cannot, however, carry you. Mind your walking now. Right?”
His irritated scowl softened somewhat, but he wasn’t pleased. She tugged on his arm. “Come on, then. If you behave, I’ll reward you with a bacon and sausage sandwich when we reach Rosemarkie.”
He shot her a disbelieving glance as they trudged along. “Rosemarkie, ye say?”
“Yes. There’s a shop there that sells the best bacon and sausage sandwiches. Do you know it?” She didn’t recall what else their menu offered, but something there would surely tempt him.
“A shop,” he repeated. “In Rosemarkie?”
Why did he find that so hard to believe? “Never mind.”
