A Healer For The Highlander (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 3

  “Yer doin’ good, Logan. I think tis the best idea we got.” Alrick put his hand on Logan’s back, but Logan was quick to brush it off.

  “Aye, but there’s much tae be done still. I need ye ae call the staff and explain what we are planning. We need tae get the council together too.” Alrick nodded. “Well, what’re ye waitin for? I need this done now.”

  Alrick gave a grumble and a nod. He had been second-in-command for many years now, and he knew not to take moments such as this personally. Logan had long shown himself to be more than a gruff man with a heavy temper. Alrick rushed out of the room, prepared to do what he needed to do to get the keep ready.

  People had been doubting Logan for some time now, but Alrick knew he was a good leader, someone to be trusted. Alrick had seen the best of Logan. There was a time when Alrick had been badly injured in a battle and all the men had left him behind while trying to save themselves. With a gash in his leg, Logan came back for Aldrick and carried him back to the campout. He knew then that Logan was as faithful to his people as any leader could be.

  After Aldrick left, Logan paused for a moment, sinking onto a bench. Even if he let the people into the keep, would they trust him to care for them? After he’d proven himself to be so horrid these last few years, would they even want to live there? Would he be able to provide for all of them? There was much at stake, but this wasn’t a moment when he could be doubtful and full of worry. He needed to move quickly.

  He was preparing to leave the room when his sister Mildred returned. “I left Ava in the kitchen with the staff. I wanted ta’ see if ye were still here.”

  “Aye, here I am.” Logan sounded worn down already.

  “Logan, I ken ye dinnae want tae hear this, but ye must remember the words of yer late wife. Ye must take this as a chance tae be the leader ye once were. Yer people need tae be able tae trust ye.”

  “I’ve heard enough about my wife fer now. I need tae focus. It is clear my people need me, and I am prepared tae be the leader they need right now. There’s no use remindin’ me, Mildred,” he growled.

  “Well, yer people have needed ye before this moment. And ye haven’t proven much of a leader lately. Tis simply a reminder, is all.” She scoffed and crossed her arms in front of chest.

  “An’ I dinnae need ye remindin’ me. I got it.”

  “Yer goin’ tae lose this land tae Laird Dillon, Logan, if you do na’ grow yer compassion!” Logan stormed up tae face his sister. Despite him towering by almost a foot over her, she did nae shake in his presence like most of his people.

  “I ain’t afraid of ye, Logan. I promised yer wife I would be here as she would hae—tae remind ye that yer anger has always gotten the best of ye.”

  “Well, yer doin a fine good job of making me angry now. And I am nae Dillon. I have always proven tae be a fit leader, and I will keep that in mind.” He paused, his hard face softening slightly. “I ken Isla would’ve wanted tae see me be a better man, and I’m trying, Mildred. I truly am.”

  “Aye, I ken yer trying. But maybe ye need tae try a bit harder.”

  “I miss her. Every day.” Logan turned away from his sister, wanting to shield her from his own emotions in that moment.

  “It will nae ever stop, Logan, but ye’ll find other ways tae fill yer mind, and maybe one day, yer heart.” Logan was silent in response. “I must go now. Yer daughter is waiting for me, and I have much tae prepare still. Remember what I said.”

  “Thank ye, Mildred.” She walked off, leaving Logan to think of all she had said.

  Logan knew, as hard as it would be, that he could be kind again. As short as he had been with Mildred, she was right. His wife wanted more than this for him. She wouldn’t want him carrying on, hurting everyone around him. He didn’t know what to do, so he thought about what she would have done instead.

  He could hear her words as if she was calling out directly to him—I would be tellin ye tae rush on out there and get ae welcoming yer people. Get on with yer gruff self, Logan. They need tae ken ye want them there. Show them ye do.

  Logan knew this was exactly what she would want him to do, and so he did. As he rounded the corner to prepare to greet his people, he heard the soft whispers of Alrick’s voice.

  “He could barely stand tae look at the destruction. I thought fer a minute the man was going ae ride off and never come back. He’s losing himself.” Logan tried to listen for the other voice, the voice of a clansmen, but he couldn’t tell whose it was.

  The voice responded to Alrick’s concerns. “Isna’ that I think he canna lead. I just think, maybe there are better leaders for an estate as big as this.”

  Not only was there talk between his staff, but now his second-in-command was clearly showing his own distrust in Logan. Logan hung back and waited for the voices to disperse. Was Alrick working for Dillon? It seemed there was no one Logan would be able to trust.

  Chapter Four

  Sophia moved in a daze. It was still dark out. After escaping from the flames, the rush of panic had left her body, and she was beginning to feel more exhausted than ever before in her life. She steered Moon as well as her weak body would allow. She had difficulty concentrating on anything but the loss surrounding her. In front of her, a mass of people moved in a line. They seemed to have an idea of where they were heading.

  “Well Moon, nae much can be done now except tae follow all these folks.”

  She rode past masses of people; families and individuals who were lucky enough to leave their homes before the fire trapped them all inside. Struggling to understand where everyone was heading, Sophia leaned down and asked a kind-looking older lady for help.

  “Where ye all headed?” Sophia tried to smile, but knew it wouldn’t be necessary in a time like this. There was a mutual understanding between them, strengthened by the ash that covered both of their bodies.

  “Hadn’t ye heard? The Laird’s opened his keep tae all of us.” The old woman kept her eyes in front of her, focused and moving with as much grace as she could muster.

  “What do ye mean, all of us?” Sophia was still confused from the entire evening’s events.

  “Anyone whose home has been burnt. There will be an inventory and attempts to restore what was lost.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  The old woman nodded and continued on her way.

  Sophia looked around, and was happy to see some of their closer neighbors were safe. Though she and her family had lived a mostly isolated life, they did have a few people they exchanged pleasantries with. She had to wonder why the Laird was being so kind so suddenly. Sophia had heard rumors about him recently; even her father had complained from time to time, saying the estate was being run with an iron fist. She knew people were not happy with his leadership, and that many found him to be a brute with little care in his heart. She remembered hearing that his wife passed a few years before. Maybe that had been the catalyst that had caused his brutish ways. Still, Sophia thought, he canna be all that bad if he’s letting us all in tae his keep.

  Sophia trekked on, losing track of time. The sun began to rise in the sky, signaling the true start of the day by the time she reached the outside of the keep. She found herself straining her neck to look up at the sheer size of the structure.

  “My goodness, this place is massive.” She dismounted from Moon and tried to figure out where she was supposed to enter. The keep itself looked like a smaller version of the castle, with hordes of people entering and exiting.

  “Well, Moon, I ken they shall have a room fer me here. This keep looks like it coulda fit the whole of the farmlands!” She gave her mare a little pat. To her left, she noticed groups of people with horses heading around a corner. Sophia moved closer and followed the others toward a stable. Suddenly, she had a momentary memory from her childhood. She had been here before, visiting the keep during one of the yearly festivals.

  There were flowers everywhere, and the scent of fresh food wafted through the air even before they entered. Her fathe
r had brought her to the castle’s grand hall after her mother passed away in hopes it would lift her spirits. It had. The entire estate was filled with merchants of all kinds, and the laird was giving out delicious treats to all visitors. And the food! The meals were full of all kinds of salted meats, jellies, and thick, hearty breads. It was one of Sophia’s fondest memories. They had danced until late, met with various travelers, and her father even sold some of his sheep’s best cheeses. But that was the last time she and her father visited.

  Living far on the outskirts of the Laird’s lands, her father needed her help greatly. There was little time for either of them to go off on an excursion. She was an only child, so there was always work to be done, whether it was helping Father tend to the land, or helping keep the house in order, like any good daughter should. While the work kept her busy, she was mostly happy there. There were days when she longed to see more of the country, to get to know more women like herself, or even to expand her knowledge of healing. But she would happily have given up those ideas to stay with her father in their tiny but comfortable home.

  The keep, as massive as it was, had to be a lonely place. Sophia couldn’t imagine living in a space without her father so close. This would be a drastic change for her. Her farmhouse was all she knew, and the little house was a good place. It was filled with so many pleasant memories of time spent with her family. The house was the only thing she had that reminded her of her mother and her childhood.

  What would living in the keep be like? How long would she need to live there? Sophia had left her home with nothing but the clothes on her back and her mare. She worried about making a living, about feeding herself. Even if the castle gave her some basic necessities, what would happen when the Laird tired of these people? How long would the generosity actually last?

  Sophia arrived at the stable more disheartened than ever. A stable worker reached out and took her mare. This was all she had left of her home.

  “I’ll be taking the horse, lassie.” The man gave her a smile. “It’ll be taken care of real well here, dinnae ye worry yer wee heart.”

  She lifted her eyes and tried to express gratitude, but found her frown frozen in place. “Be good, Moon. I’ll stop in when I can.” She gave Moon a pat on her neck and nuzzled her. Her mare was behaving well, given everything that happened over night.

  The stable man urged Sophia forward, to follow the line of people toward the great hall. “Right over there is where ye’ll be helped. We’ll be getting some food out for the lot of ye. Just wait inside.”

  “Thank you.” She walked stiffly in the direction the man pointed. Inside, there were many people gathered. Some families, she recognized; some families, she did not. A few people tried to speak to her, but she didn’t have the energy to respond.

  Ms. Little, a family friend, approached Sophia. “Sophia dear, I’m so glad you’re alright. Where’s yer father?”

  Sophia’s mouth dropped as she tried to dig around for the words, for an explanation.

  Ms. Little sensed the question was one that evoked great heartbreak. “I’m sorry, dear. I had no idea. He was a good man, yer father.”

  Sophia felt the tears well in her eyes. She tried to look around for a corner to hide in, an area to run to, but all that surrounded her were soot-covered faces just as long and sorrowful as her own. She turned, followed the crowd toward the great hall, and wandered inside, hoping to find out where she would be staying so she could disappear for a while.

  Inside the great hall, Sophia wandered to an empty bench tucked in a corner. She did not know what her next step would be, who she needed to speak to, or how to get a room, and it was all overwhelming her.

  “Is that Sophia McDragel? Wee Sophia all grown up now, eh?” Sophia turned her head and found herself staring into the wrinkled but loving face of Fanny. Fanny was serving her thirtieth year as the clan healer, and she knew Sophia and her family very well. Her mother had worked with Fanny in her younger years. Fanny was the one who taught her everything she knew, and Sophia’s mother passed on all that knowledge to Sophia before her death. Fanny was known as one of the best healers, not only for her strong hands, but her deeply giving and caring heart.

  “Fanny, I haven’t seen ye in years.” Sophia was shocked, but happy to find a warm and comforting presence near her. “How are ye, Sophia?”

  Sophia tried to think of a response, but the shock, the lack of answers, and the chaos around her only brought tears springing to her eyes. “Nae well,” she finally managed to respond.

  “Is it yer father? Was he one of the lost ones?” Fanny placed an arm around Sophia and pulled her in close. She could tell from the number of tears, the lack of breath, that Sophia was experiencing great shock and loss.

  “Aye, he died carrying me out of the house.” Fanny had always been a comforting presence to Sophia, especially after the death of her mother. When her mother grew ill, Sophia was only ten years old. Fanny came over every morning before her healing duties began, and every evening after dinner. She sat and taught Sophia how to care for the fevered and the unwell. Together they gathered the necessary herbs. Fanny taught her how to properly dry them, to store them; which to use for salves and which to use for tonics. Sophia had wanted to continue her studies, but being the only woman in the household meant she needed to put her household duties first and set her personal ambitions aside.

  “I’m sorry. Yer father and mother were some of the best people I knew.” Fanny pulled Sophia in for a full hug and ran her hand along her head, soothing her.

  “Aye, Fan, we must go. I’ve got all we need for the burns.” A man reached over and tapped Fanny on the shoulder. Sophia hadn’t noticed him before.

  “Thank ye, Gilbert. Yes, we must get going.” Sophia panicked for a moment at the idea of losing Fanny. She didn’t want to be trapped and alone in the chaos again. “Well, I’ll be off now, dear.”

  “Wait, wait, please.” Sophia grabbed onto Fanny’s hand. “I, I need something tae keep my mind occupied. Do ye need help with anythin’? I’m a hard worker, and I have no work here. My entire farm has been lost tae the fires.”

  Fanny stopped for a moment to consider the thought. “Yer mother was a natural healer, an I ken ye take after her. I ken she taught ye a thing or two more than I did.” Fanny looked at Gilbert, who waited for her against the far wall.

  “I’ll take ye on. Ye can join Gilbert and be an apprentice. We have much work tae get done here anyways. There are many burn victims, an’ many wounded from the journey tae the keep.”

  Sophia’s tears slowed. For a moment, she felt triumphant and relieved to have a task at hand.

  Fanny led Sophia toward Gilbert and introduced them quickly. The three rushed off to the opposite corner in the great hall, where Fanny had been treating burn victims. The area was small and cramped, but given how many people they would be helping, it was well suited for quick treatments. Nearby, a long line of people waited. There were some with small linens over their feet, or arms, but others were badly injured. Some men moaned in agony while lying miserably on the floor. Some needed help just to keep from falling over. The fires had done so much damage; it was unbelievable how quickly they had moved through the farmlands, wreaking havoc on the clan.

  “Gilbert here has everything organized for us. Keep yer eyes focused on what I do for these next few patients, and then ye can have a hand at it.” Gilbert shot his eyes up as he heard Fanny say this. She had yet to let him try to care for anyone.

  “Come along now, lad,” Fanny waved forward a man with a bright red streak of blisters across his neck. Sophia stood still, focused, and watched as Fanny wiped the wound with a wash. The man leaned back as she poured a tonic over it. Sophia saw how careful she was with the burn, how much ointment she applied, and exactly how she bandaged it.

  “Now tis yer turn.” Fanny called forward another man, one who had been moaning in agony, waiting for his turn to be mended and healed. The man sat in front of Sophia, his leg covered by a t
orn piece of linen.

  Sophia pulled the fabric away and the man moaned in agony. “Ach, please, God it hurts.”

  “Fanny, ye really think she can do this?” Gilbert sounded almost annoyed with Fanny’s decision.

  “Aye, watch.” Fanny remained confident in Sophia’s abilities.

  Sophia looked at the burn, the fabric, and thought about what to do. Clearly, the man’s burn had blistered and ruptured, and now the linen cloth was stuck to him. If she pulled it off quick, it would hurt. It would expose the skin that needed healing, but it could make the wound worse. Without asking Fanny, Sophia reached instead for the water with the boiled herbs. She poured a cupful on the linen, pressing it more firmly into the wound. The man responded with a groan of pain, but it was milder than the start. Sophia was focused, but she thought saw Fanny nod out of the corner of her eye. After letting the linen soak, Sophia carefully pulled it away, and was happy to find that it did not pull the man’s flesh at all. In fact, he seemed almost relieved.