“Now for some of my excellent broth.” Brenda set the tray on Bethoc’s lap. “Eat up.”
Bethoc picked up the spoon and saw her hand shake. Grimacing, she put it down. “I think I had best wait a wee while.”
“Nay, I will feed ye.” Brenda spooned up some of the broth and put it in her mouth.
After she swallowed Bethoc had to say, “That is verra good.”
“Thank ye. Boiled the meat for a verra long time along with a lot of vegetables. Decided that, if ye have to drink your meal when ye are ill or injured, it ought to be as full and rich as the food ye have to chew.”
“Weel, I think ye have succeeded admirably. Just wish I wasnae so weak. Then I could shove it down my own gullet.” She smiled a little when Brenda laughed.
“It was a deep wound, ye ken,” said Brenda. “He may nay have struck anything important but he went deep and ye lost a lot of blood. I was surprised ye made it to the garderobe and back. But, ye are right. Much better ye go there then try to squat over a chamber pot. Just dinnae try going by yourself for a while.”
Even though she hated the idea, the memory of how weak she had felt made her nod in agreement. At least she did not need anyone following her inside. After Bethoc finished with the hearty broth, Brenda gave her a small drink of cider. She found she wanted more but did not ask for any. For now, she wanted to try to avoid having to be helped to the garderobe too often. Then Brenda moved to help her lie flat on the bed again.
“I need to check your wound,” said Brenda. “It will hurt but I need to ken ye have ceased bleeding, inside and out.”
“Weel, let us get it done then.”
* * *
Gritting her teeth, Bethoc watched Brenda leave the room. The moment the door shut behind the woman Bethoc began to softly swear and kept at it for several minutes. She suspected nothing she could say would shock Brenda but felt that swearing like a fish-gutter was not the way to show her appreciation for all the woman’s work. Brenda had been efficient and gentle. It was not her fault it had hurt.
She carefully wiped the sweat from her face using the arm on her uninjured side. There had been no sign of bleeding inside or out, and Bethoc knew that was a very good sign. The pain had not faded one little bit though. The tight wrapping that was her bandage did not help but she suspected Brenda was right about it. For now, it was needed to make certain the new stitches held firm and all the bleeding had completely ceased.
This was going to drive her mad, however, she decided after staring up at the ceiling for a while. She was accustomed to working, to doing something. It was hard to imagine how Callum had stayed trapped in a cave for so long with his broken leg, hiding from his enemies instead of confronting them. He had remained remarkably even-tempered throughout it all. She doubted she would do the same if she did not think of something to do with herself, something she could do in bed and with a very limited use of one arm.
The door opened and Margaret walked in. Shortly after her came the boys. When they gathered around the bed, staring at her, she began to feel uneasy. Either they wanted something or she looked far worse than she had thought.
“I am fine, ye ken,” she said, reaching out to stroke Margaret’s curls.
“Ye got in the way of the sword,” said Liam, frowning at her. “Saving him.”
“Ah, weel, if I hadnae he would have been gutted.” When Liam winced she nodded. “An agonizing way to die and it doesnae kill ye quickly.” She touched her bandage. “This hurts so bad I just had a hearty curse”—she shared a grin with him—“but it willnae kill me and it will heal and probably stop hurting so much verra soon.”
“Then ye willnae be able to curse.”
She laughed softly and winced. “Dinnae make me laugh.”
“Weel, we had to come and see you. Brenda said ye were fine and so did Callum but we had to come and see that.”
“I understand that. So, ye badgered Brenda with questions about me but did ye take the time to get any idea of what she would like in the garden?”
Gavin grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. “She wants a lot.”
That started the boys talking. As Margaret crawled up to sit beside her, she listened to all the boys had to tell her. They had settled, she realized. They were making a place for themselves. Soon she would have to push Callum for more than what they had and either get that or leave, before the boys began to accept Whytemont as their home.
Chapter Eighteen
“There. I now declared ye healed.” Brenda grinned as she threw the newly removed stitches away. “But, and isnae there always one of those, ye must be verra careful. The closed wound is so new ye could break it open again.”
“Aye, I will be verra careful.” Bethoc smiled. “’Tis what I keep telling Callum, so I had best heed my own advice.”
“Good idea. And I must tell ye, those lads of yours are a treasure.”
“A treasure, eh?” She grinned. “There are days I would heartily disagree with ye.”
Brenda laughed as she went to wash her hands. “Och, they are lads when all is said and done.” She walked back as she dried her hands. “What they ken about gardening is astonishing.”
