“Aye, I believe he does. Ye can see it clear. I am nay sure he understands his parents are gone though.”
“He will, but being so young, and with an auntie to care for him, it might not be so hard on him that his folk are dead. My Maeve wasn’t much older when my Tommy was killed and she recovered fine. The lads still carry some anger over it.” She picked up the bucket of rags and grabbed the cover she had used to hide Emily’s nakedness. “Grab her clothes and I’ll get this whole lot in to soak, get the blood out.”
“Do ye think ye can get her clothes clean as weel?”
“Maybe. Will take some work. Easier when the blood is fresh.”
“Weel, if ye can, it would be good as I am nay sure we have anything for her in what we took from the cottage,” he said as he followed her down the stairs.
“Ah, well, I will do my best. Now, I will start on this and ye can bring the mop up and clean up any blood on the floor, if you would. Best if the room and all are as clean as we can get them. I truly believe that can help a body to heal.”
By the time Iain finished with that chore Emily was looking less like the dead and more like she was just sleeping. There was still a flush on her cheeks and he felt her face to find she was still a little bit feverish. It was not surprising since she had had a bullet inside her for almost two days. He hoped she had not lost so much blood that she would be unable to fight off the fever.
He went back down the stairs, and then put away the mop and bucket. Mrs. O’Neal was busy scrubbing out the clothes so he went outside to look for little Neddy. He found the boy sitting on a rock by the side of the house, laughing as a puppy tried to grab his toy dog. Iain sat down on the ground next to the boy and noticed that the box he kept such a close watch on was still right by his side.
“Ye dinnae want to let him get to your toy, lad. Those teeth are wee but they are also very sharp.”
Neddy looked at the puppy and quickly stuck his toy inside his shirt. “He wants a toy.”
“Dogs are easy to please, lad.” Iain looked around and grabbed a small stick off the ground.
“A stick?”
“Aye. Dogs like sticks. Ye teach them to chase it when ye throw it and then to bring it back.” He held it out and the puppy grabbed it. “Right now, this fellow just wants something to chew on.”
After watching the puppy try to pull the stick away, Neddy held out his hand. “May I have that now, please?”
So polite, Iain thought. The boy spoke very well when he wanted to. Neddy had had a look of intense concentration as he had spoken. “Do ye ken how old ye are?”
“Three. I am growing.”
“Oh, aye, that ye are.”
“Where Emmy?”
“In bed. She was wounded and Mrs. O’Neal tended to her. She is sleeping now. She will heal better if she gets a lot of sleep.”
“I see her?”
“If ye want to.”
The boy dropped the stick he held, grabbed his box, and stood up. “Now.” He blushed and frowned. “Please?”
As they walked to the house, Neddy held the box close. He took the boy by the hand as they walked up the stairs and wondered if he could get the box away from the boy. It held papers that were obviously very important to him and his aunt. Of course none of them knew how to read so he would have to find someone else to look at them and that seemed wrong. He was debating the ethics of that when they entered the room where Emily slept. The papers were private and he had no trouble thinking of how he would feel if someone took something of his that was private and shared it with others. Iain stopped thinking about the box as Neddy pulled his hand free and ran to the bed.
Iain quickly stepped up to him as the child patted Emily’s cheek and said, “Emmy?”
“She is sleeping, lad,” he said. “I told you, she was a wee bit hurt so she really needs to rest.”
“Like Mama?”
The single tear that went down the child’s cheek and his fearful expression tore at Iain’s heart. “Nay, laddie, your Emmy will be better soon. She but sleeps so that she can heal better.”
“Need box open.”
“Ye wanted Emily to open it?” The boy nodded. “Why? It is just papers.”
“My papers. You open again.” When Iain just stared at the box, Neddy yelled, “Now!” Then he looked as startled by his rude demand as Iain felt, blinked several times, and quietly said, “Please?” His bottom lip trembled slightly. “Sorry. I yelleded. Bad boy,” Neddy added in a very soft voice.
