Reade tore his lipsaway and stood awkwardly, keeping his injured arm as still as he could. Blair turned her attention to his wound, peering inside the sagging sleeve to assess the damage to his arm. Most of the other men had collected the discarded Gordon weapons, mounted their steeds, and had started back toward the keep with Seamus. Maddock remained behind and approached them, sheathing his claymore at his back. He, too, investigated Reade’s wound, clicking his tongue as he poked around. Maddock’s poking was like a hot iron against his arm, and Reade hissed at his intrusive finger.
“God’s man! Have a care where ye poke!”
Maddock’s lips curled into a knowing grin. “I presume ye’ve heard that sentiment before,” he joked before growing more serious. “Now, we must get ye to the keep. Mother can clean this. Mayhap Mona has some herbs so pus doesn’t fill the wound. ‘Tis deep.”
Blair’s hand had dropped to his sleeve, crusted with blood and filth, and her face shifted, looking uncomfortable. The pain in his arm was forgotten at her sickened-appearing state.
“Blair? Are ye unwell?”
A hard burst of panic flooded his chest. Had he saved her from the hands of the Gordons only to have her fall sick in the woods?
“Nay, I’m well –”
Then she bent at the waist and lost her stomach contents into the dirt by her feet.
As soon as she stood upright and wiped at her face, Reade immediately swept her off her feet, ignoring the searing pain in his right arm, and carried her to his horse.
“Here, Reade!” Maddock shouted behind him. “Have a care for your arm!”
Maddock reached out his arms as if to take Blair from him, but Reade shifted her away.
Blair smiled wanly at him. “Nay, Reade, I assure ye I am well.”
Reade disregarded her words and made for his horse. Once there, he realized that his right arm would not lift high enough to get her on, and he couldn’t mount with her in his arms.
“Brother, please. Let me assist?” Maddock inquired, one eyebrow raised and his arms outstretched.
Reade ground his jaw, hating to hand Blair over to Maddock but seeing he couldn’t get her home any other way.
“I can stand,” Blair said louder, trying to make her voice heard.
Both Reade and Maddock ignored her. She had been sick, and now they would protect her and do everything in their power to get her back to the stronghold safely.
Maddock took Blair from Reade. “Maddock, I swear to ye –” she tried to speak, but he cut her off.
“Lass, ye are paler than the moon. Let us get ye home, and ye can protest all ye wish there.”
Using his stronger arm, Reade gripped the saddle and pulled himself up and settled in. Maddock lifted Blair, and Reade helped her get set on the saddle in front of him. He wrapped his arm around her and she relaxed into his chest, exactly where she belonged. After everything that had transpired this day, this was what he needed – to have Blair secure in his arms.
Or rather, arm.
Maddock handed over the reins and Reade wrapped them in his left hand.
“See ye at home, brother,” Reade told him.
Maddock slapped the horse’s haunches, and the horse trotted toward the road.
The sun was fully setting, and the gray skies of gloaming enveloped the land as night blanketed the woods to the east. They rode in silence and darkness for a short time with Blair reclining comfortably against Reade’s chest. His breathing was steady against her back, and he hoped it meant his wound was not overly egregious. His right hand rested on his thigh so as not to irritate the already inflamed wound. Reade didn’t relish the surgery work his mother and the healer were going to inflict upon him after he arrived home.
Home.
With his wife safely in his arms and his family secure in the keep, the concept of home bloomed and found new life. Instead of gut-stricken with sorrow over the loss of his cousin, home in the MacDonald clan lands had become a place of hope, of growth, of a future with his wife.
Blair, who decided to stay. Why? He had given her the opportunity to leave, to create the life she wanted, the one denied her. One of her choosing. Why had she elected to remain with the man she was forced to wed? A man who had doubted her over and over, and even thrown her in a dungeon?
Her decisions, though he was grateful for her choice, did not make sense to him.
His curiosity got the best of him.
