Braden settled on a nearby bale of hay. “I see that.”
“Do ye ken who yer Da got them from?” As he spoke, he moved around the horse, running a hand over its withers and along its back, a path that took him in arm’s length of Braden.
Jamie reached out and quickly laid a healing sleep on the lad, caught him as he slumped and leaned him back against the wall behind him.
Aftyn had saved him from his last breathing problem more than a year ago, but she worried constantly that he would have another episode. Jamie ran a hand from Braden’s chest up his throat to his face, extending his talent and probing for anything that seemed out of place. Jamie had seen something similar to the slight swelling in his airway in a young lass at the Aerie. Every time the weather got cold and dry, her body reacted and she choked, unable to breathe. Mint leaves in steam had helped her, but Jamie found the problem and fixed it. Braden’s condition was minor compared to hers, but he was older, and Aileanna had mentioned that some children in the village where she grew up who had this affliction grew out of it.
Braden might be well on the way to achieving that, but Jamie eased the swelling and did everything he could to ensure Braden—and his sister—no longer had to be concerned.
Braden’s breathing affliction had kept him from being as strong as he should be. Now he’d have a chance to grow into the leader and develop the strength and skills of a warrior that a laird needed to have.
Satisfied he’d done all he could, he woke Braden, stepped away and continued around the horse he’d been inspecting.
When he glanced around, Braden was awake, but bleary. Jamie kept talking, giving him time to recover. Braden would assume he’d dozed off for a second in the middle of whatever Jamie was saying.
“Ah, aye, of course,” he said when Jamie paused.
Jamie hid a grin behind the horse’s mane. “Very good, then. Let’s look at the other two,” he told Braden, and quit the stall. They had time to admire them before Aftyn returned.
“Janet shouldna be allowed near a blade,” she groused as she walked up the center aisle to them. “I have to wrap a finger of hers at least once a sennight. One day, she’ll chop one off, and then what will she do?”
“Ye will sew it back on,” Braden told her, smiling.
Aftyn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
Jamie knew she thought it impossible, but he wondered. With his talent, could he do it? He’d treated frightful battle injuries but never tried to reattach a completely severed limb.
“What weighty matters did ye two discuss while I was gone?”
“Horses,” Braden said, Jamie echoing the same word at almost the same time.
“So, lasses, then.” She grinned. “Ye dinna need to lie. I’ve heard the lads when they didna ken a lass was near.”
Braden gave Jamie a look that saidwhatever is she going on about, and shrugged. Jamie returned the shrug and turned back to Aftyn, just as Neve ran into the stable.
“Ach, there ye are. Aftyn, I looked everywhere for ye. I have bad news.” She put a hand on Aftyn’s shoulder. “Robena died in her sleep, sometime during the night.”
Jamie collapsed onto a nearby bale of hay. He’d failed her. He thought he’d given her more time, but he hadn’t.
Aftyn burst into tears, and clung to Neve and Braden, who told her, “I ken ye tried to help her. It was no’ to be, lass. Ye did yer best.”
“She fought for so long,” Aftyn cried, then her watery gaze found Jamie. “She was better.”
He pushed to his feet and went to her, taking her hand and bracing against the pain in her heart, so much like the pain already in his own chest. “Sometimes that happens,” he told her, wishing he had better words to console her. “Someone seems better before they pass on. ’Tis a gift, I think.”
“A cruel one,” Neve replied, frowning, “to give someone hope, then snatch it away.”
Was that what he’d done? Given Colin—and Aftyn—and even Agatha hope, only to have Robena snatched away? He blamed himself for not being able to help her. He thought he’d have more time. Being delayed at the abbey by the fire was no excuse. Being too hot-headed and close-minded to accept his mother’s teachings, aye. Perhaps if he’d learned as she wished him to, Robena would still be alive. Now he’d never know.
* * *
Later that morning,Braden found Aftyn in her herbal, sitting before a mound of greenery, staring at nothing. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Robena’s sudden death held her in shock.
Braden touched her shoulder, then held up a finger, glanced around, making no secret of checking to see if they were alone, then closed the door. Aftyn frowned and pivoted away from the table where she had intended to chop herbs for a poultice, but had done nothing. “What’s amiss?” Braden never sneaked around. This behavior was very unusual.
“I just came from the strangest conversation with Da about the abbot.”
“The abbot? What is he doing here?”
