Max took the first shift of sitting with his brother as the others went to take tea. Kate was reluctant to leave the man who would even now be dead had she not found him.
Something about him touched her.
Sinclairs marry Ravens.
Chapter Five
Rory woke to a searing pain in his shoulder, but the chill that’d he’d believed would be with him forever had gone. He was warm, blissfully so. His thoughts went to Kate. Where was she?
Max.
He’d seen his brother. Older, yes—ten years tended to age a person—but definitely him. He would know those eyes and his build anywhere. He’d been big as a young man; now he was bigger.
Gingerly he pushed himself upright. Darkness had fallen, but a fire in the hearth and lamp on a small table lit the room enough so he could see. He was in someone’s bedroom but could not make out any personal details. A painting of the rugged shoreline he’d witnessed firsthand hung on the walls, and a rocking chair held a knitted pillow. Looking to the bedside table, he saw it held water. He was suddenly parched.
The door opened, and he braced himself for whoever entered. He’d be polite and then he’d leave, even if it was him. The brother he’d once worshipped.
It was her, Kate, the woman who had saved his life. The angel with the forest-green eyes and beautiful face. She slipped into the room quietly, as yet unaware he was awake. Lying in the dark, he watched as she went to the fire and added another log. She then came to his side and touched his forehead.
“How do you feel?”
“Besides the fire burning in my shoulder, I am well.”
“And warm?”
“And warm, thank you.”
Her palm was cool and soft. Soothing and disturbing at the same time.
Her hair was in a long braid now, hanging over a slender shoulder. She wore a shawl, thick and the color of ash, around her shoulders. He wanted to reach for her, hold her close. It was the injury, of course, that and seeing his brother again. Rory needed no one.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’ve already thanked me for finding you,” she said, pulling the blankets up his body and tucking them around his waist, as if he were a child. “Essie will check on you soon. But I have something for the pain and to help you sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep; I need to leave.”
“As you will when you are healed.” Her fingers pushed aside the nightshirt someone had put him in and studied the bandage. He felt her touch around the edges of the injury, the sensation traveling through him.
“So far there is no fever or inflammation.”
“I heal well.”
She replaced the shirt, then did up his buttons, and he let her. Wanting her touch, which was not like Rory. He didn’t seek out anyone, and especially not for comfort. It was because she’d saved him and because he was ill. He could find no other reason for the way his heart thudded at her nearness.
“Have there been many illnesses in your life then, Rory?”
“Illnesses, no—injuries. I’ve been stabbed, burned, and locked in chains. Each time I’ve healed quickly.” He’d said the words to shock her, wanting her to back away from him. Instead she patted his hand where it lay beside him on the bed.
“I’m glad you healed from those things. And sorry they happened to you.”
“I deserved them.” He persisted in darkening his name, wanting those eyes to widen in horror.
“I’m sure you didn’t, not all of them anyway.”
“Are you one of those people who goes through life seeing the good in everyone, Kate?” His voice sounded rough and unused.
Her laugh was real and loud. It had him wanting to smile; instead he frowned.
