Page 38 of Fire in his Highland Heart

In a sudden burst of affection, Arguen hugged the child as the two of them laughed.

At that moment, Blake burst through the door, his jaw tight, his countenance drawn. “What happened? My daughter, is she...” his voice trailed off, and he saw Arguen hugging the child. It didn’t register in his mind that Arguen was laughing—he thought she may be crying. He stormed over to her bedside, ready to cast the healer aside, when he realized what was happening.

Arguen let go of the child and wiped her own eyes with the corners of her apron. “’Tis broken! The fever is gone!”

Blake’s heart soared. For a moment, he thought he’d lost the one family member he had left. He knew he could not bear that, not when his daughter was his treasure and most precious jewel. His heart was soaring. “Och, my precious child. I’m so glad yer well now,” he said, and held his daughter close to his chest. The two of them did not let go for quite some time, so Arguen and Patsy backed away, regarding the familial, domestic scene with swelling hearts.

When they finally did let go, Arguen could see that his eyes were brimming with tears, though he wouldn’t let them fall.

“Arguen, I owe ye a great debt. Whatever ye need, ye may ask, and I shall endeavor tae provide it for ye.”

She felt herself blush again. “Nay, Laird. And Patsy did help quite a bit. Ye ought tae thank her too.”

At that moment, Patsy spoke up. “Dinnae listen tae her, yer lairdship. She did the healing. I simply did as I was told.”

Arguen looked to Patsy and smiled thankfully.

“I owe both of ye a great deal,” Blake said.

“Yer lairdship, ye already have a debt tae my brother. Ye needn’t have one tae me as well,” Arguen protested gently.

Blake took a deep sigh and nodded. “Still. Whatever ye ask, I must try tae grant it.”

Seeing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, Arguen smiled and changed the subject. “I’ll stay until Mirellain regains her full strength. We dinnae want a relapse.”

“Nay, true indeed. I’ll think of somethin’. I promise ye that,” he said. There was a twinkle in his eye when he said it, and she wondered what he had up his sleeve.

For now, she and Patsy decided it was best to let father and daughter have their moment in peace, and the two of them left, satisfied with a job well done.

* * *

Initially, Arguen had wanted to go back to her cottage to tend her plants, which she was sure were not faring so well after about ten days, but she also wanted to make sure that Mirellain stayed well. She also treated some of the other castle children with similar symptoms since many of them played together. Soon, the whole castle was beginning to brighten and bustle as it once did.

She felt as though she had to keep busy though, so she spent a good deal of time in the kitchens, helping out like she used to when she’d first arrived. This time, everyone was talkative and friendly, as she’d treated many of the townspeople and their children.

And suddenly, it dawned on her. This was what it felt like to belong somewhere. She didn’t know any of these people before she arrived at the castle, starved, exhausted, and injured. And yet, after just a couple months, they seemed to accept her into their community. Total acceptance was so foreign to Arguen. Even at Bruckstone, where she’d been born and raised, she never felt like she was truly part of the community. Many other children shunned her on account of her silver hair. They would tease her, call her names, and purposely exclude her from their games. As an adult, it was no better, except it was whispers around the castle and hardly anyone reaching out to her unless they needed her help as a healer.

Mrs. Kinney’s voice shook her out of her reverie, as the plump, good-natured woman sidled up next to her. “Seems ye’ve been busy since we last saw each other,” she remarked.

That was true—Mrs. Kinney had come over to the cottage a few times when people really started to count on Arguen, but after the delivery of the Jenkins babe and Mirellain’s illness, she’d been spread so thin that she hadn’t had a chance to see the person she truly counted as a friend.

“Aye, seems everyone needs a healer now,” she said, as she kneaded the dough on the table.

“I spoke to Mrs. Jenkins this morn. Her babe looks healthy. And she sang yer praises, lass. I commend ye—I’m sorry I wasnae there tae help.”

Arguen made a dismissive noise. “Och, yer a healer, too. I ken how it is. By God, I was frightened, though. Never delivered a child on me own before.”

Mrs. Kinney chuckled. “Well, ye might add midwife to yer belt. Clearly yer capable of more than ye say.” There was a gleam in her eye as she said so, and Arguen wondered what she meant by that. She brushed it away, however, as the two of them conversed as friends.

The afternoon passed in a pleasant manner, with Arguen cooking and making bread with the other women, until James sauntered in and plucked an apple from the fruit bowl. Mrs. Kinney scolded him, but he only laughed. Arguen couldn’t help but crack a smile at his good nature.

“Miss Arguen, if ‘tisnae too much trouble, his most esteemed lairdship would like a word wi’ ye,” he said, after making small talk with Mrs. Kinney for a moment.

Arguen raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright? With Mirellain?”

James waved a hand, signaling that he had to chew the bite of apple before he could speak again. “Aye,” he said after a large swallow. “Mirellain’s fine. Blake just wants tae talk wi’ ye. Not sure what about. I’m tae take ye tae his study when ye’re free.”

Arguen looked down at her hands, covered in bread dough, and held them up to James as if to say, “I’m workin’ here.”