“What ails ye, Cathan? Do ye hurt?” she asked softly when she realized Colin had spoken in a whisper.
“I am afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
“Ah, poor lad. Do ye want to stay with me and Margaret?”
He nodded and Colin sighed with relief. “Then I will leave him with ye. Good sleep, Bethoc.”
The moment he left, Bethoc settled down again. Since she could not hug both children, she curled around Margaret and let Cathan curl up against her back. She was touched when he slipped his arm around her waist and grabbed hold of her hand. If he had told the truth, he had lost too much and been tossed around too often in the last few months.
“It will be fine, Cathan,” she whispered.
“Will ye take me to Callum?”
“What I will do is speak with him about ye. Nothing can be done until he heals, ye ken, so ye must be patient. Patient and silent.”
“I willnae say anything. I swear.”
She prayed that the vow of a small child was one she could put her trust in.
Chapter Three
Callum opened his eyes and fought to catch his breath. Then he realized he was not in the water, not fighting to get to the surface and precious air, and began to calm down. Slowly, he studied his surroundings as his mind cleared and more memories of the day before returned. He attempted to get up and pain shot through his leg. It was then that he remembered everything. The beating, the river, losing Cathan, and the girl who came to his aid. And, most important, his broken and useless leg.
He braced himself and cautiously pushed his body into a seated position. After studying his leg for a moment, he tightened the ties on the sticks bracing his leg. Then he looked around for something to use as a walking stick only to find the one she had cut for him leaning against the cave wall within easy reach. His little savior had thought of everything.
Except how difficult it was going to be to get up from the floor, he mused. Muttering a curse, he inched himself backward until his back was against the wall and he could use it to help pull himself up. The hardest thing to do was to keep all weight off the foot on his broken leg. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed hold of the walking stick and began to move. Once he had relieved himself, he slowly hobbled around the cave. It was a good size and surprisingly well equipped. This cave was being made into a place to live. His rescuer must be planning to leave her home. He wondered if it was because of whoever put those bruises on her.
Finally back at his pallet he began the slow, awkward process of sitting down, which was a bit more painful. A broken leg was a serious problem for him. It ended his search for Cathan and it meant he was stuck in this cave for a long time. He could not even be sure his friends would find him and he was deeply worried about little Cathan. Instinct told him the boy’s kinsmen took him in not because they loved him but because they wanted his inheritance. That greed put the child in danger just as it had killed his father. He looked at his bandaged leg and sighed, because he knew he was useless to the child now and would be for a while.
Shifting so that he could sit with his back against the stone, he tried to make plans. There were too many indefinites for that to be a useful exercise, however. After several minutes of useless thinking in circles, his mind centered on the woman who had saved him.
Bethoc Matheson was not hard to think about. She was a pretty little thing. Slim yet curvaceous, long, curly black hair, and wide blue-green eyes. What she also brought was a twinge of recognition yet he was not sure why. He wanted to think on it more as he closed his eyes, feeling tired. Weariness dogged him and he decided he might as well give in to it. If nothing else, a lot of rest was good for healing and he was eager to heal so he could find Cathan and get home.
* * *
It was late and Bethoc cursed as she slipped out of the house, Margaret strapped to her back as always. Her father had been ill in the morning and she had been forced to wait on him hand and foot. It had taken every ounce of willpower she had not to say a word about how his illness was caused by his own drinking. She knew he would have recovered enough to beat her senseless for the remark. He saw any criticism as a lack of respect.
Now it was the middle of the afternoon and he was finally gone. She would only have a short time to visit with Sir Callum before she had to return to make the night’s meal. Walking briskly but not so fast she exhausted herself, she hurried toward the cave.
She was almost there when something stopped her. Off to her right was a horse. It was saddled and had saddle packs yet there appeared to be no one around him. Bethoc walked toward the animal, watching closely for any sign that he had an owner nearby. No one appeared and she began to think she had found Sir Callum’s horse.
As she reached the animal’s side, it looked at her. “Easy, lad. I think I ken where your owner is,” she said and she was all too aware of its size and the possible threat.
The horse tossed its head and danced to the side. She continued to speak calmly as she reached for its dangling reins, silently praying it would not think to bite her. Once she grasped them, the animal stilled and she dared to stroke its nose. It was a big, strong, mottled-gray gelding and she knew it would win any argument but the longer she stood gently patting him, talking soothingly, the more it calmed down.
She decided that, even though she did not know if it was Sir Callum’s horse, it was obviously lost or cast aside, so she would take it to the man. When his leg healed enough to move about more, he would have need of a horse. This one would do as well as his own. It took two tugs on the reins before the animal began to follow her, but once it began it offered no further resistance.
When she reached the opening of the cave, she released the animal, praying it would stay. To her astonishment, the horse was intent on barging its way through the brush she was trying to move. She grabbed its reins the moment she got the brush out of the way and struggled to pull its head down so it could get through the opening.
“Sir Callum,” she called as she struggled to pull the animal through the doorway even as it tried to pull free and race inside.
“Ye found him,” Callum said as he blinked awake from a light doze and was shocked to see Stormcloud. “Stormcloud, go easy. Easy now, boy.”
“He was just standing around. I think he may have been wandering about the place where he last saw ye when he got free of the men. Weel, if the men e’en tried to take him.” She went over to where he sat and set down the basket she had brought with her. “I have something for ye to eat and drink.”
