Such pain. Branna felt it. Her throat burned with it, and her own heart stuttered. She kept her eyes on the eyes of the little hound, poured her power in, and the warmth with it.
The deep first, she thought. Mend and mend what was torn. In the cold field, the wind blowing, sweat beaded on her forehead.
From somewhere, she heard Connor tell her to stop. It was too much, but she felt the pain, the spark of hope. And the great grief of the man she loved.
Look at me,she told the dog.Look in me. In me. See in me.
Bugs whimpered.
“He’s coming back, Branna.” Connor, still scanning the field, still guarding, laid a hand on Branna’s shoulder, gave her what he had.
The open wound narrowed, began to close.
Bugs turned his head, licked weakly at her hand.
“There now,” she said gently. “Yes, there you are. Just another moment. Just a bit more. Be brave, little man. Be brave for me another moment.”
When Bugs wagged his tail, Fin simply laid his brow against Branna’s.
“He’ll be all right. He could do with some water, and he’ll need to rest. He...”
She couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop herself. She wrapped her arms around Fin, held him.
“He’s all right now.”
“I owe you—”
“Of course you don’t, and I won’t have you say it, Fin.” She eased back, framed his face with her hands. For a moment they knelt, the dog gamely wagging his tail between them.
“You should take him home now.”
“Yes. Home.”
“What happened?” Connor asked. “Can you tell us? We told Iona not to come. Christ, she’s driving her grandmother from the airport in Galway.”
“Not now, Connor.” Branna pushed to her feet. “We’ll get the details of it later. Take him home, Fin. I have some tonic that would do well. I’ll get it for you. But rest is all he really needs.”
“Would you come with me?” He hated to ask, to need to ask, but still feared for the little dog. “Look after him for just a bit longer, just a bit to be sure?”
“All right. Of course. Connor, you could ride Baru back, and take the hawks, take Kathel. I’ll be home soon.”
“Well, I—”
But Branna put her hand in Fin’s. She, Fin, and the little dog winked away together.
“Well, as I was saying.” Connor ran his fingers through his hair, looked up to where Fin’s hawk and his own Roibeard circled. He gave Kathel’s head a pat, then swung onto Baru. “I’ll just see to the rest.”
•••
IN HIS KITCHEN, THE DOG SNUGGLED IN HIS ARMS, FIN TRIEDto sort out what to do next.
“I should bathe this blood off him.”
“Not in there,” Branna said, all sensibilities shocked when he walked to the kitchen sink. “You can’t be washing up a dog in the same place you wash up your dishes. You must have a laundry, a utility sink.”
Though he didn’t see the difference, Fin changed directions, moved through a door and into the laundry with its bright white walls and burly black machines. Opening a cupboard, he reached for laundry soap.
“Not with that, for pity’s sake, Fin. You don’t bathe a dog with laundry soap. You’re wanting dish soap—the liquid you’d use for hand washing.”
