"That's enough," he said firmly, taking the bandage from her hands. "Ye've done more than enough."
"But there might be others."
"Everyone's been seen tae. The immediate injuries are handled." He guided her to a chair in the corner. "Sit. Rest. That's nae a request."
Mhairi sank into the chair gratefully, her legs trembling from exhaustion. Around the hall, other healers—some who'd arrived from the castle, some local women with basic knowledge—were finishing up with the remaining minor injuries.
"How many?" she asked quietly.
"Injured? About thirty that we've counted. Most minor—burns, bruises, cuts. A few more serious like the woman ye treated first, but nothing life-threatenin’ if they're tended properly." Alpin knelt beside her chair. "Ye did well today, Mhairi. Really well."
"I just did what Donnach taught me."
"Ye did more than that. Ye stayed calm, worked efficiently, made people feel safe even when they were terrified." He reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Half the village is talking about how the laird's healer saved their loved ones."
"I'm nae the laird's—" She stopped, heat rising to her cheeks.
Alpin's mouth quirked. "Nae the laird's what?"
"Never mind." She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled.
"Easy. Ye're exhausted."
"I'm fine."
"Ye need to rest. And eat. When was the last time ye had food?"
Mhairi tried to remember. Breakfast had been... had that been that morning? It felt like days ago.
"That's what I thought." Alpin guided her back into the chair. "Wait here. I'll bring ye something."
He returned minutes later with bread, cheese, and dried meat. Mhairi ate mechanically, barely tasting the food, while around them the hall gradually emptied as patients were moved to more comfortable locations.
"The laird's done well by ye, miss," an elderly woman said as she passed, leaning heavily on a walking stick. "Bringing ye here, letting ye learn the healing arts. Most lairds wouldnae bother with such things fer a lass."
"He's... he's been very kind," Mhairi managed.
The woman smiled knowingly. "Kind, aye. And more than that, if I'm any judge." She patted Mhairi's shoulder. "Ye'll make a fine lady of the clan someday."
She shuffled away before Mhairi could correct her assumption, leaving Mhairi staring after her with wide eyes.
"Dinnae mind her," Alpin said, though his eyes were warm with amusement. "The villagers have been speculatin’ about us since ye first arrived."
"Speculatin’ what exactly?"
"That we're courtin’. That I've taken ye as me intended. That the weddin’ will be before winter." He shrugged. "The usual village gossip."
"And ye've nae corrected them?"
"Why would I?" His expression turned more serious. "Let them think what they want. It keeps ye safer; if people believe ye'reunder me direct protection as more than just a guest, they're less likely to cause trouble."
That made sense. But it also made Mhairi's heart do complicated things in her chest.
Before she could respond, Peadar appeared in the doorway, his expression grim.
"Alpin. We need tae talk about supplies."
Mhairi stood beside Alpin and Peadar as they surveyed the village's storage buildings. Or what was left of them.
