Page 33 of Edge of Yesterday

She rolled her eyes. “Ye have been fighting all night, but swoon when a woman tends to you.”

“A woman with a knife frightens me far more than any man with a sword.”

Barely stifled laughter came from Gregory. Julianna shot him a narrow-eyed glare.

He shrugged. “Ye cannae blame a man for being honest.”

Cailean’s fingers tightened around hers and she shifted her attention back to him as he gently slipped the knife from her grip. In one quick move, he slid the blade between the knot and his arm and cut the bandage free.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

“Aye,” she agreed. “Ye are fortunate the blade didnae go a little deeper.” Or a little farther down his arm. If the blade had cut much closer to the elbow, he might have lost use of the arm. She set the bloody rag on the floor. “Now this bandage.” Julianna slid a finger beneath the bandage around his right forearm.

He cut the fabric as he had the other, then extended the knife toward Gregory. He sheathed the knife, then went to fetch more cider while Julianna unwound the fabric.

Blood spotted the inside of the strangely woven cloth. “What is this?” She looked at Cailean.

“Cotton bandage,” he replied.

She’d never seen such loose weave. Julianna started to toss the fabric into the fire, but changed her mind and dropped it on the floor. She examined the old wound, which she estimated no more than two days old. Little more than a thin knife cut down the inside of his forearm. She dipped a new rag in the water, wrung it out, and began cleaning the fresh cut on his left arm. The wound had begun to clot. She released a breath. Good.

Cailean watched for a moment, then said, “Are you a doctor?”

“Doctor?”

“Physician, healer,” he said.

“I studied with the Beatons.”

“Impressive. Not every woman gets to study with Scotland’s renowned hereditary medical dynasty.”

“More than ye might think,” she replied, though she was proud of her time spent with the Beatons. “My abilities are modest, I am no’ gifted like our healer.”

He smiled. “Anyone who studied with the Beatons is gifted.”

Julianna shrugged, but was oddly pleased that he might think well of her. “The knowledge is useful. Such as now.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said.

Gregory returned and gave him another cup of cider, then retreated to a bench near the bed.

Cailean took a modest swallow of the cider. “It kind of grows on you. Give me enough of this and I won’t care that one of your players took the swordplay too serious. Until I wake up tomorrow, at any rate.”

“Players?”

He set down the empty cup. “They were…enthusiastic.” He shook his head. “Really into it.”

Into it… Her thoughts snapped to attention. He had two more cuts on his left arm and one on his right arm. She grasped his right arm. “Be still now. This isnae from tonight?”

He pulled free and gingerly touched the wound. “This is the cut I received for the Blooding Stone.”

Blooding stone?

“And this,” he lifted his left hand and indicated the small slice above his wrist, “is where Val nicked me during the reenactment. This beauty” –he looked closely at the last wound on his forearm– “I thought was gorse thorns.”

“That is no’ a gorse thorn scratch,” she said.

“No,” he agreed. “In fact, it’s another cut from a blade.” He shrugged. “I guess Val nicked me a second time and I didn’t realize it.”