Page 10 of Hold Fast

“Dinnae stop,” he commanded as he tightened his hold around Connor.

She ducked her head and continued her grisly work, biting her bottom lip so sharply as she worked that she drew blood. Time crawled as she worked neatly and carefully. Eventually, Connor passed out from the pain. “Thank God,” Angus muttered.

Slowly but surely, Cat’s even stitches brought the final edges of the wound together. With the last stitch in place and the bandages tied, Catriona stood, walked gracefully as a queen to the corner, and retched into the chamber pot on the floor. Ewan’s arms ached, and his leine was soaked through with sweat and blood. His brothers and David stood around the bed, equally gray in the face, equally exhausted.

Wiping her mouth, Catriona turned to them and asked the question that Ewan had been pondering all the while she stitched. “Now what?”

“We wait. And we pray that he doesnae catch fever. Or if he does, that he has strength enough to fight it.”

Catriona sniffed and dragged the back of her hand under her nose. Her ladies’ maid, Joan, rushed forward with a handkerchief. Ewan hadn’t even noticed her come in.

“Beg pardon, m’laird,” Joan said quietly as Cat blew her nose into the kerchief. “The Camerons have a healer. A brilliant one, they say. Perhaps they’d be willing to come.”

Ewan narrowed his eyes. The Camerons were enemies. They had plagued his father for decades as they tried to encroach on the boundary between their lands.

“Why would I trust a Cameron healer? They’re just as likely to finish Connor off and poison the rest of us as they are to help, especially if their laird had anything to say about it.”

“But m’laird, they are the best. Lady Stewart said so.”

He arched an eyebrow in her direction.

“Laird Stewart’s servant told us the story when he paid you that visit two months past. Said that Lady Stewart had called for the Cameron healer to deliver her bairn and would have nae other.”

That fact, if true, gave Ewan pause. He didn’t trust the Camerons, but he also knew that the Stewart laird would entrust his precious wife—a rare love match—to no one but the very best.

“Ewan! You must beg them to come!” Catriona said.

It wasn’t as if he had any other options.

CHAPTER4

Una woke before the dawn and collected her belongings, meager as they were. Her bow and quiver of arrows, her medicine satchel, a sack of provisions, her wool plaid, a cloak, and the only gown she owned. The laird had sent it down from the keep the night before her handfasting. It was a fine garment, made of soft wool dyed a rich green. And while she hated to keep anything that had come from him, she had no other clothes. Her father had sent hers with her sister when she’d been married. She’d worn this gown into the keep, and she’d worn it out a year later.

She let herself out of the cottage as quietly as possible so as not to wake her father. Greer followed close on her heels as she strode briskly away from her family cottage, making for the burn that ran alongside the forest. The Stewart lands lay to the south. If she walked all day at a strong pace, she should reach the border by nightfall.

After a time, she cut into a wood, grateful for the tall trees that blocked much of the icy wind.

“Go on, Greer,” Una said to the dog as she scratched behind her ears. “Have a run. Let’s see what you catch.”

The lanky greyhound raced joyfully off into the forest beyond. While Una had brought the dog with her on her daily outings with Blair, she seldom was able to let her run as free and fast as she wanted. But things were different now.

Una listened to Greer tear through the brush. Greer was enjoying every single second of her newfound freedom. Yesterday, Una had been practically vibrating with excitement for that same freedom. But now, as she stood beneath the ancient, towering trees, the world suddenly felt very big and she very small.

It was alarming.

For her entire life, her worldhadbeen small. And for the last year, it had been smaller still. As Laird Cameron’s special pet, his handfasted maybe-bride, she had been guarded closely, used with fiendish delight, and then tucked away again until he desired her next.

Until she reached the Stewarts, she was on her own in that great big world she’d barely scratched the surface of seeing. That feeling of smallness, so foreign to her, caused prickle of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold. A few months before her handfast, she’d been called to the Stewarts, and gladly gone, but had been accompanied by a full detail of guards. Now, she was utterly alone, which was both a blessing and a concern. A blessing in that she belonged to no one any longer. Her life was her own to live, to save… or to lose. But that last part made her anxious.

Una kept walking, making as little noise as possible as she picked her way through the undergrowth. Greer was far enough away now that Una no longer heard the crackling of sticks and leaves as she ran. She adjusted her heavy medicine satchel higher on her shoulder. Perhaps keeping to the road would have been easier, but her journey needed to be a secret. Her safety—Blair’s safety—depended upon it.

She picked her way along a burn, the water ruffling over smooth stones as the wind blew through the tree tops high above. The branches rustled together, and late falling leaves fluttered down to the forest floor. A flock of geese flew overhead, their honks echoing in the cold air. She took a deep breath, appreciating the peace, thespace, and was comforted by the sounds of the forest around her.

But then, hoofbeats. The nickering of a horse.

Una froze, a desperate sort of panic clawing at her throat. What if Cameron had come for her? What if he meant to bring her back? She’d die before she allowed that to happen.

As quietly as possible, she lowered her satchel and food bundle to the ground. Her quiver was on a belt and at her hip. She reached for an arrow and nocked it in the bowstring before sliding silently behind a tree. With great effort, she slowed her breathing, the way Blair had taught her, making the inhales and exhales silent from her open mouth. Blood was rushing in her ears, but she felt all of her preparations sliding into place, the way Blair said they would.