Page 42 of A Healer for the Wicked Highlander

Relief washed over her, pushing Michael—and her bruised heart—briefly from her thoughts.

“Good mornin’, me wee fighter,” she said softly, forcing a smile as she sat on the edge of the bed. “How are ye feelin’ today?”

“Splendid,” he grinned.

She smiled back. “I’m very happy to hear that. Now, how about we take a walk, down to the loch?”

“A walk to the loch?” he repeated, his eyes wide with delight. “Truly?”

They usually took strolls through the garden and nearby woods, but Laila had told her about the loch and seeing that Cody had been feeling better and better with each passing day, Freya thought it would be a good idea.

Freya laughed softly, smoothing a curl from his forehead. “Aye, truly. If ye’re feelin’ up to it—and only if ye promise to take it slow.”

“I promise!” Cody jumped, throwing away his toy soldiers.

“Easy now!” Freya scolded, catching his shoulders and gently steadying him. “We’ll go after ye’ve had somethin’ to eat, and I’ll need to fetch me sisters.”

Cody settled, though his legs still kicked under the covers in anticipation. Freya’s heart warmed at the sight of him so full of life again. The days of worrying if he’d draw another breath in the night seemed almost like a bad dream now.

Almost.

Her hand lingered on his forehead, brushing his hair back, and her thoughts strayed again to Michael. He’d been so steadfast during Cody’s illness, always at his side, always asking after him. It was one of the reasons she’d come to care for him, though last night had made her feelings far more complicated.

She pushed the thought aside and forced herself to focus.

“Now, I’ll let the cook ken ye’ll need a good breakfast,” she said, standing. “And I’ll fetch yer cloak and boots before we go.”

Cody’s grin grew wider. “Do ye think Marissa and Abigail will come?”

Freya smiled. “Oh, I’ve nay doubt they’ll come. They’ll jump at the chance to fuss over ye and chatter about nonsense.”

Cody giggled, clearly pleased at the idea of being fussed over.

Freya lingered at the door, watching him as he hummed to himself, his hands fidgeting with the blanket. The sight filled her with warmth, but there was an ache beneath it, too, a longing for the family she had always wanted.

But that was a dream for another time.

For now, there was Cody, her sisters, and a rare day of peace by the loch. She clung to that thought as she left the room, determined not to let doubts about Michael, or the tender ache in her chest, ruin the morning.

About half an hour later, Freya sat at the long wooden table in the great hall, her smile fixed firmly in place as her sisters chattered and Cody practically bounced in his seat. The smell of fresh bread and porridge filled the air, but her appetite was lacking. She stirred her spoon absently, glancing toward the door every few moments, though she knew better than to expect Michael to appear.

He wouldn’t.

The servants had already mentioned that he was shut away in his study, “tendin’ to urgent matters. Had it been a mistake? Had she been a mistake?

“Freya?”

She blinked and turned to find Marissa staring at her, concern etched across her face. “Ye’ve hardly touched yer food.”

“I’m fine,” Freya said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just distracted.”

Marissa didn’t look convinced, but before she could press further, Cody interrupted, waving a piece of bread in the air. “Freya, do ye remember who was yer first patient?”

The boy’s question was simple, but it still caught her off guard.

“Me first patient?” she echoed, as if tasting the words. It had been such a long time. And it had been a story not often told.

She knew what he meant. Not the first person she’d helped with a knee or a fever, but the first time it truly mattered. The first time she had been the difference between life and death.