“Oh, hell, he went out,” said Matthew.
“But he is alive,” said Robbie, and he placed a hand on Iain’s chest. “I can feel his heartbeat.”
“Duncan, shoot that bastard,” ordered Matthew.
There was so much pain in his head Iain knew he could soon disgrace himself by weeping. All he could do was keep his eyes closed against the insult of any light and not move. He wished he had the strength and sense to speak to his brothers but that proved to be beyond him. He could not even see who held him because the blood was still running into his eyes.
The shooting stopped and he almost wept with relief when the sharp sound of bullets ended. Then the person holding him stood up, dragging Iain up with him. Iain groaned as his stomach churned and his head throbbed. He tried to ask to be set down but all he heard was a garbled mutter. An arm went around his waist and he was forced to take a step. It was too much and Iain gave in to the blackness that had been waiting for him.
* * *
“Well, we will be hearing what happened now,” said Mrs. O’Neal.
Emily frowned. “We will?”
“The men are back.” Mrs. O’Neal frowned as she stood up. “They are riding hard.”
That did not sound good, Emily thought. “They have come back?”
Mrs. O’Neal stood up and started toward the front door. “They have run back.”
Emily hurried after Mrs. O’Neal. Why would they run back to the house if everything had gone well? She was suddenly terrified of the answer to that puzzle. She stood behind Mrs. O’Neal as the woman opened the door. Matthew was pulling a limp Iain off the back of his horse and she gasped. When she swayed Mrs. O’Neal’s hand grabbed her arm and held her steady. Emily took several deep breaths and felt herself steady.
“Get some hot water and rags, child,” Mrs. O’Neal ordered, and Emily ran to the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen she grasped the edge of the sink and fought to gain some control, lecturing herself about her weakness. He was still alive, she told herself. He needed help and it was no time to give in to foolish nerves. Head wounds also bled badly. She had learned that as a child. His brothers had looked worried but not grieved.
Feeling more prepared, she got the bucket of hot water and some of the rags Mrs. O’Neal kept in the cupboard. Hefting the full bucket, she started up the stairs. Matthew came down and took the bucket from her.
“Bullet didnae go into his head. Just scraped his head. Got himself a new part in his hair. Head wounds just bleed bad.”
“I know,” she said as he handed Mrs. O’Neal the bucket and she put the rags on the bedside table where she could reach them.
As she watched Mrs. O’Neal work and handed the woman whatever she asked for, Emily finally got a glimpse of Iain’s wound. It was bad but not life-threatening, although she was no doctor so her assurances to herself did little to ease the icy knot of fear in her stomach. It looked to be much similar to the wound she got on her arm. She could only hope Iain’s wound healed as well as hers had.
The bandage that Mrs. O’Neal wrapped around his head would have made her laugh if she was not so worried. Emily knew the woman was trying to put the other men at ease when she tied it off with a bow. There were actually a few smiles. Then she shooed his brothers out and turned to Emily.
“The bullet just skidded across his skull but it is a deep cut. I could see the bone in places but it wasn’t cracked or anything. But if all goes well he will wake and just have one hell of a headache. If you need a rest from sitting with him, I would ask one of the brothers. I will take care of Neddy for now.”
Emily blinked and frowned at her. “Iam going to sit with him?”
“Yup. Man needs to be watched. Don’t want him up and trying to walk for a while or anything like that.” She grabbed a chair from the corner of his room and set it by the bed. “There are books to read I can get or I can sit here and you can look for something.”
“Why are there books? None of them can read.”
“I have no idea. Think they got them clearing out some cabin that got burned or they were left behind by the people who lived there and decided moving here was a mistake and left. They collect up whatever was left when they find one of those, a deserted or burned cabin. Now I will go get you some food but it may be a while before I can bring any up.” She started for the door. “If he has to use the chamber pot or something like that just call one of the lads.”
“All right. I will be fine.”
“I am certain you will be. Do not fret. Head wounds are treacherous but this doesn’t look like a really bad one. I truly saw no crack in the bone and there was no movement when you touched it.” She laughed at the face Emily made. “I know, I know, disgusting but if you are going to learn how to fix people up you have to be ready for things to be rather disgusting. And in these parts there can be a lot of fixing up of people needed. There’s a bell here by the door”—she tapped it—“and a yank will sound the bell in the kitchen if you need something.”
Emily sighed and sat on the chair. It was a well-made chair but it was hard and Emily expected she would notice that very painfully soon enough. She sat up straight, as the chair inspired her to, and watched Iain. She thought he was sleeping restfully. At least she hoped it was sleep and not unconsciousness.
It was not long before Emily knew it was going to be a difficult time ahead for her. Sitting and staring at someone who was sleeping was no fun, was not even vaguely interesting. She began to think of all the things she might be able to do to pass the time. She had a journal she could write in but that rarely took very long. However, she would ask if she could get it. Mrs. O’Neal had asked her if she could knit so there must be the materials needed to do so. Another thing she could do as she sat there.
“Well, Iain, it looks as if you are stuck with me for a while. The fact that you do not appear to hear me talking is somewhat alarming but, then, it might be good since you are stuck with me until you decide to wake up.”
She leaned forward and took his hand in hers. It was still warm and that eased her mind. “I should have warned you better about him. Told you more about him. At the time it just did not seem important, that it was all just my opinion. And there were seven of you.” She shook her head. “Matthew said you hit him so we may be lucky and he’ll die. Poisoning of the wound from the bullet or blood loss or something. You will want to be awake for that.”
