Noelle had saved his life, defended him with what little strength she possessed. He groveled helplessly at her feet, regretted everything he had ever put her through. The list of violations were endless. He bowed his head.Forgive me, my love.
He swept her into his arms. As he made for shelter, more blood seeped from his wound.
He rushed to the warmth of the cabin and slammed the door. Laid her across the bed, undressed her, and examined her from head to toe. A nasty bruise and a small cut along the hairline of her left temple were the only injuries he could see. Dry blood was crusted on her cheek. He suspected a concussion, which sparked fear inside him. He immediately tried to wake her. Called her name a hundred times, but nothing helped. Her pulse was erratic.
“Wake up,” he croaked. He’d seen this type of wound before. Watched men in the prime of life succumb to serious head injuries.
There was water in the pitcher on the bed stand and he wet a cloth and sponged her off. “Wake up,pokker det.”
His hope deteriorated as he started to massage her feet. Pinched her arms and legs, caressed her cheeks. She needed stimulation and he’d utilize any tactic necessary to rouse her, even pain. Randvior grabbed a knife from the table and quickly made the decision to use it. Gently at first, he pressed the tip into the soles of her feet. No response. He scraped the blade across her toes, nearly drawing blood. Nothing.
“Wake up, god damn it,” he begged.Odin, heal her and this wound in my heart.
His jaw clenched as he further appraised her condition. They were too far away from home to ride for help. Nothing seemed to work.The stream!
He scooped her off the bed and carried her outside. The frosty air made him shiver, reminding him that he had no clothes on. He waded into the frigid water, knelt, and submerged her—letting her head dip under for only a second. As he lifted her, she sputtered and coughed. Those beautiful brown eyes opened in horror and confusion. His heart nearly burst and tears of infinite joy filled his eyes.
Randvior balanced her on his knees and brushed strands of hair from her face. Her lips were dark blue and her teeth chattered, but he was more than just a little bit tempted to steal a kiss. He needed to get her inside by the fire. And to tell the truth, if he didn’t warm up soon, he’d freeze to death, too.
Chapter Nineteen
Burning Cross
Fear and loathingburned Randvior’s throat as he deposited Noelle on the bed and wrapped her in blankets. He rushed to the hearth and dropped an armful of kindling, built up the fire until it roared. He returned bedside and looked deeply into her eyes. They were wide open, pupils dilated, and she complained of a throbbing skull—considering the force of the blow she’d… Oh god, she was lucky to be alive.
Hours later, she slowly became more aware of the things around her. She’d stopped calling him by her father’s name and had noticed the nasty gash down the side of his shoulder.
She demanded he let her stitch him up before he bled to death in front of her. Her resiliency astounded him and he pacified her by sitting down on a chair next to the fireplace so she could see. If she needed to use him as a pincushion to stay alert and awake, his body was at her service. She poured half a bottle of wine over the wound and stepped away as Randvior cursed the day. Once the pain subsided, he eyed her speculatively. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea letting her handle a needle and thread right now. Unaware of any formal training she had for surgery, he accepted the fact that he was about to find out.
Medical supplies were always kept in his saddlebags. He watched as she dug around and pulled out sheep gut threadand a needle. She sterilized the needle over the open flame and doused it with alcohol, repeating the process twice. He arched a brow worriedly as she threaded the needle and held it up for inspection.
“Are you ready?” She put her hand on his shoulder.
Practiced fingers sunk the needle under his skin and completed the first stitch. He flexed his fingers on the other hand to keep his mind off the stinging, nagging pain. After careful stitching, she counted forty stitches out loud, cut the thread, and knotted the ends together. Randvior regarded her handiwork and nodded appreciatively.
“It will do,” she said.
“Aye,” he agreed. Forty tiny stitches—small ones left less of a scar. He smiled. If Aud or one of his other men had gotten their hands on him in the field, they might have sewn him together with twenty. What other skills had she hidden from him? “Your talents are endless.”
She mopped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Thank you.”
“Do you feel queasy?”
She looked surprised and nodded. “Aye, how did you know?”
“Serious head injuries can do that, although I cannot explain why you’re on your feet now.”
He had many questions. Like, who taught her how to stab a man in the kidney? Maybe she had witnessed a fair share of violence in her young life. But these kinds of questions would only elicit a feeling of indignity in a woman who risked everything to save him. Instead, he simply gave voice to one. “Why did you intervene? Those men weren’t after you,min lille dukke, they wantedme.”
“I overheard one say your mother told them where we were. It made me more furious than anything I’ve ever heard. Shebetrayed you, and I’ll be damned if she’ll make me a widow before I have a chance to live my life with you.”
Her words put to rest any lingering doubts. Before, he had wondered if she had only agreed to marry him to protect her family or to gain forgiveness from her god. He looked her over critically, wanted to make sure she was fit to travel. Injuries left them both weak.
Randvior was determined to make it home before nightfall. If she had been hurt worse, to Hel with his tenants, but he knew she was strong and they were determined to face whatever horrors awaited them at home.
Darkness set in as they met a group of riders halfway home. Noelle lowered her thick collar and stared across the field at the horses tethered to trees. She recognized Brandon immediately. He was alive and well. It gave her hope that whatever had happened might not be as bad as originally feared.
Randvior kissed the back of her neck before he slipped from the saddle. Several riders dismounted and met him near the trees. Noelle could see Brandon and Randvior’s hands gesturing angrily. Bad news. The men broke apart and Brandon followed Randvior back to his horse.
