Willa looked at the man again, then shook her head. “No. I would have remembered.”
Oh yes, she would have noticed him. There were very few men like him, blessed with both beautiful masculine form and a handsome face. She had no doubt he turned women’s heads wherever he went. He most certainly would have turned hers, too. She was definitely not immune. Not even now when the man lay wounded and covered in blood.
“We need to bring him inside and get that wound stitched up”, she said, pulling her gaze away from the strikingly chiseled lines of his face.
“Aye, yer right.” Maura walked around the wagon bed to look at him. “He doesna look good at all. It will be a miracle if he lives.”
Sudden and completely unexpected tears welled in Willa’s eyes. “He will live! I’ll see to it, I won’t let him die.”
Maura nodded, startled by such a strong show of emotion from the usually stoic girl. But then, Willa had been through a lot recently; they all had. It was only natural for it all to begin bubbling to the surface, now that they were finally safe. She at least had James, and he was all she really needed in the world to be happy. Willa had lost everything, or she’d never truly had it to begin with, Maura wasn’t sure which. If she needed something to cling to right now, the wounded stranger was as good as any.
“Aye, of course ye will”, she said confidently. “We’ll do everything we can, and then some. He willna even have a chance of dying.”
She understood that Willa’s sudden grief was not so much for the stranger in their wagon, as for all that she had just been through, and all that she had lost and endured in her short life. If using her time and energy to help another saw her through the worst of it, then that could only a good thing. Besides, Maura sensed something about the man, something different that she couldn’t quite put her finger on yet… something… special… or perhaps connected with Willa? Either way, it seemed to her that he had a role to play here, and so she would do all she could for him. Maura knew very well that while much of what happened in the world was by chance, or at most, concerted effort, there were other things that were always meant to be. When fate ordained an event as part of a larger plan, it happened, and only these few events in thousands could be foreseen by those who had Sight. Which was why the prophecies of a talented seer so often came true.
Willa took a deep breath and smiled, albeit weakly . For now, the tears were banished, and she pulled on her inner strength, thankful that she’d always had a plentiful supply. “No, he won’t. And honestly Maura, I’ll be more than grateful for the distraction.”
James had gone into the cottage ahead of the women to make sure it was safe, and he must have lit the fire in the hearth, because clouds of gray-white smoke began to billow from the chimney. The sight and smell of it immediately changed the atmosphere from stark to welcoming.
“All clear”, he announced, appearing in the doorway. His gaze lit on the wagon, and he paused, frowning.
“Och, I had nearly forgotten about our guest.”
He sounded tired, Willa thought, and he certainly didn’t need the added burden of the wounded man when he already had the weighty responsibility of keeping his wife and sister safe all while figuring out how to take back their family’s lands from a murderous tyrant. But neither did he leave the man to die, and for that she was grateful. Though she’d known her brother only a short time, she’d recognized at once that he was a good man. A strong man. He’d been through more than she knew, as the denounced bastard son of her father. It could not have been an easy life, and he’d likely fought for everything he had. Though it had hardened him, James had somehow held on to his kind heart, and his ability to trust and love.
Together, the three of them managed to move the warrior to the cottage and into one of the two small bedrooms. Since the other room was for James and Maura, Willa supposed she would have a roommate for awhile. She would make a pallet on the floor, and that way she could keep watch over him at night. She knew from experience that he would almost certainly develop a fever, and would need constant care if he was to live. While James went to unload the wagon and see to the horses, the two women set about tending their charge.
With her hands on her hips, Maura appraised the man lying as still as death on the small bed.
“We’ll have to cut his clothes off”, she said. “They’re beyond saving anyway. Then we’ll wash the wound, and ye’ll wash the rest of him while I sew it closed. He has so much blood all over him… ye’ll need the large basin in the back of the wagon. Go… and fetch my bag too, I have a needle and thread and a sharp knife in there.”
Willa swiftly returned with the bag and went back for the water, and Maura set to work cutting off the man’s clothing. Willa came in and set the basin on the table nest the bed, then stood beside Maura, watching with her heart in her throat as she worked. First the shirt came away, stiff and sticky with drying blood, and the coppery tang of it filled their noses. The plaid he wore slung low on his hips was soaked as well, but they were able to unfasten the belt and pull away the material. Willa bent to pull off his boots, and then he lay completely naked on the bed. Willa let her eyes roam the length of his body, and she let out an appreciative breath. Maura looked up at her with a wicked half-smile teasing her lips.
“No’ bad, aye?”
No, not bad at all. Even with the thick coating of blood and grime, he was nothing short of magnificent. The wide planes of his impossibly well-muscled chest (interrupted by the gash in his side, still caked with drying blood), led down to a taught but equally muscled stomach, and then to long, powerful legs. Her gaze travelled down the length of him once more before unconsciously stopping at the juncture of his thighs and staring with pure fascination.
Her interest was not lost on Maura, who quirked an eyebrow at her sister-in-law.
“Hung like a stallion, too.” She said teasingly as she took up a damp rag and began to carefully dab at the wound. “Perhaps ye’ll decide to keep him around, should he live.”
Willa was fairly certain that she blushed to her toes; Maura was not one to hold back words. But she was saved when James came in with a pot of warm water, some soap and clean rags, and a small bottle of whiskey.
“The best I could do on short notice, ladies.” He put the things down on a little table, and lit two more lamps, bringing them closer so they would have better light to work by. “Need anything else?”
Maura shook her head. “No, go and get yer work done, we’ll be awhile.”
“All right”, he leaned in to kiss his wife tenderly on the mouth. “I’ll make us all some dinner, then.”
When Maura smiled up at him, Willa could see the light in her eyes that she knew without a doubt was love. James glowed with the same light when he looked at his wife. How rare and wonderful such a thing was. Seeing it in such full force left her with a hollow ache inside, and she couldn’t help but wish for someone to give her own love to so completely. Sighing softly, she reached for a rag and dipped it in the water to begin washing the blood and dirt off the warrior’s golden skin.
Maura watched James go, then turned back to the job at hand. “Och, and he cooks, too! How did I get so lucky?” She removed the last of the blood away and leaned closer to inspect the gash. She sucked in a breath and Willa looked up from where she was rinsing her cloth.
“God it’s deep! I can nearly see the bone. No… I can see the bone. Hand me the whiskey, would ye? I need to clean it first, though all of the bleeding has done a fairly good job of it.”
Willa uncorked the bottle, handed it across the bed, and Maura poured it into the open wound. The man immediately stiffened and a low, pained moan came from deep in his throat. Willa winced in sympathy.
“Well”, Maura said matter-of-factly, “We ken he’s still alive.”
