“You’re an optimist, then.”
Dr. Barkley shrugged.
“I’ve been accused of worse,” he said before letting out a humorous huff. “In fact, I’ve been called a traitor to my profession at least twice today.”
Logan’s brow furred. Dr. Barkley had been the town’s physician for nearly thirty years. Whoever would accuse him of poor practice was a fool.
“By whom?”
“Well, just this morning, Mark Finley said he’d take his ailments elsewhere, if there were any other place he could go.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m letting the Sharpe girl apprentice with me,” he said, taking his coat off the coat rack and putting it on. “I must admit, I was apprehensive about it. But with Hall off in Glasgow,I’ve no other eager students to teach. Besides, she’s smart as a whip, that one. Did a fine job tending and diagnosing her sister while she was under your care.”
Logan’s shoulders tensed at the mere mention of Faith, but he tried to shrug it off as he followed the doctor out of the cottage.
“Indeed,” he said as they both set off in the same direction along the crowded street.
“I should like to speak with Lady Belle about finding her a surgeon’s apprenticeship, actually. She’s a fine mind for it, I think, and she doesn’t have the malady of fainting at the sight of blood.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. I suppose I’ll be able to talk to her at Lady Belle’s surprise party next week.”
Logan glanced to his side.
“Is there such a party?”
“There is. I only received my invitation this morning, from the middle sister, actually, not ten minutes before you arrived.”
“Faith is in Glencoe?”
“Yes. All three of them are,” he said, his eyes squinting as he looked over the bustling street. He pointed a finger diagonally across the road. “There they are now.”
Logan’s head turned, and there, sat on that ridiculous petite Connemara horse, was Faith. It had been days since he saw her, and he was amused and aggravated at how his heart seemed to hammer beneath his chest at the mere sight of her. It was ridiculous to be so blatantly excited and miserable at seeing her sitting proudly on the too-small pony. Her honey-brown hair was pinned beneath a black, curved-brimmed top hat, and she was dressed in a brass-colored habit, with black piping stitched up the front of her chest in a military fashion.
Hope stood beside her horse, speaking with Graham, while Grace was just getting up on hers. Faith sat sidesaddle, as was expected of gently bred women, but her rigid back seemed too stiff as the horse moved from side to side in agitation as a large drove of pigs made their way down the street.
She was nervous. How he knew, he couldn’t begin to understand, but she was. Impulsively, he stepped in her direction, wanting—no, needing—to get to her, but in an instant, a sickening dread flooded his veins as everything moved in slow motion.
The honking of several geese, frightened by a dog working to keep a flock of sheep in line, scared the pigs, which rushed toward the edge of the road. Faith’s horse, Sweetness, reared up suddenly, turning midair before letting out a frantic neigh. Grace’s horse shifted to avoid the commotion while Faith’s hands gripped the reins as the horse twisted and took off, her hat dropping to the ground amongst the shouts and screams of busy passersby.
“Faith!” one of her sisters screamed, but Logan was already on the move.
Without hesitating, he ran forward, shoving his way through people and farm animals alike until he reached Hope’s horse. He barely registered her panicked expression as he tore the reins out of her hand, hopped onto the horse’s back, and took off after Faith.
All the noise from his surroundings seemed to die away as he galloped after her, down the country lane and across the stone bridge that led out of the village. The road led into the forest that sat between the town and the mountains. As best he could see from trailing behind her, Faith’s body was hunched over, and it appeared as if she were desperate to hold on.
Logan rode faster, urging his horse to a breakneck speed. He could grab her horse’s reins if he could only get to the side ofit, but the surprisingly fast pony would not yield. When a fork in the road appeared before them, the animal hesitated, and Logan seized the opportunity to gain the upper hand, driving his horse faster up along the side and snatching the reins with deft precision.
All at once, the trampling of the horses’ hooves died away, and within moments, Logan was off his horse, pulling Faith off hers as he held her tightly against his chest. Her entire body shook, flooding him with waves of fierce protectiveness that surprised him.
He held her for long moments, squeezing her as if he could absorb her fear. He barely even realized that he was laying kisses on the top of her head. He even kissed the spot between her brows that creased whenever she was deep in thought, unable to stop himself. The softness of her body against his was as provocative as it was necessary. Nothing had ever felt more natural to Logan than holding her protectively in his arms. Gently caressing the back of her neck with one hand, he murmured foolish, sweet nothings to calm her.
“It’s all right. You’re safe now,” he whispered, his tone raw as a tremor moved through her. “My darling, it’s all right.”
The bare skin of Faith’s neck was cold and clammy, but it was her silence that unnerved him most of all. She was most likely in shock, and he didn’t know how to rouse her from it.
