Page 53 of Highlander’s Sweet Poison

“We didnae either, but I trust my wife.” He cast a look Creighton’s way. “And I trust that ye have what ye say ye do.”

“I have a whole satchel full of leaves.”

They arrived in time to hear the wailing of someone inside. The fathers raced to the door, all nearly piling in, and when Graeme broke through, heart in his throat, he watched Jillian dunk Christy in a tub.

His niece looked listless.

“Her fever is too high,” Jillian said tightly as she looked up. “Please tell me that ye have the leaves.”

Without a word, Creighton opened his satchel and showed her. Relief swept over Jillian’s face. “Annella, keep her head above the water,” Jillian instructed. “Graeme, I need ye to ground the leaves as thinly as possible and add them to boiling water. It needs to simmer for an hour. My supply of honey is out, so I need to visit the kitchens and get more.”

She looked exhausted, and it was no wonder. She’d insisted on waking just after dawn, and from the look of it, she’d been working tirelessly since then.

“Tearloch,” Graeme ordered, “get Jillian some honey from the kitchen. Is there anything else that ye need?”

“Nay, I have everything that I need,” she said distractedly as she stirred the pot in the fire.

Nobody even so much as gave her an odd look. Tearloch nodded and left, and Creighton blew out his breath. “I apologize for doubting ye.”

“In yer place, I would have done the same.” He and Creighton needed to talk, but it was never the right time, and it was hard to convince someone that they were on the same side when less than a year ago, he had lost everyone.

“Jillian? Mortar and pestle?”

“My bag. My bag. It’s ummm....” Straightening, she wiped her brow as she looked around. Panic crossed her face. “Oh, where is my bag?”

“I have it,” Kylie said as she snagged it from the side of the bed and carried it to her. Next to him, Creighton inhaled sharply, but Graeme ignored him. Grabbing both Jillian’s bag and Creighton’s bag, he sat down at the table and went to work. It seemed like it would require delicate hands to do this, but he didn’t have time to be delicate. Grinding the leaves down to almost a powder, he showed them to Jillian.

“Good. More,” she instructed. “Two more bowls worth. Do we have enough?”

“Ye have enough.” Creighton moved in front of Kylie and narrowed his eyes. “I know ye.”

That got Graeme’s attention. Jerking his head up, he looked at Kylie and saw a brief flicker of recognition in her eyes followed by panic, but she covered it well and shook her head. “I think I saw ye at Laird Fletcher’s funeral.”

Creighton stared at her for a moment and drew back. “Perhaps.” He handed Graeme more leaves.

As Annella pulled a shivering Christy out of the tub, Tearloch returned with the honey. Jillian was all focus as she finished stirring and heating her concoction. Grabbing a ladle, she spooned some out into a tankard and set it on the counter. Then, she stared.

Everyone stared at her.

“Jillian?” Graeme asked quietly.

“As it cools, it should turn blue.”

Right now the liquid was green, but there was no point in telling Jillian. Awareness was written all over her face. Silence descended in the room.

“Come on,” Jillian whispered. “Please.”

“‘Tis all right, Jillian. We will start another batch. We have time,” Annella said quietly.

A smile brightened her face, and Jillian stood and lifted the bowl. “We don’t need to. It’s done.”

The liquid was blue.

“Annella, give this to Christy. The rest of ye, give me a minute, and I will cool the rest of the antidote.”

Sitting next to Christy, Graeme held her hand and looked at his sister and could no longer ignore the bruise forming under her eye. “Where is her father?”

“Not here,” was all Annella would say as she held up her daughter. Her hands were shaking, so Graeme took the bowl and held it up to Christy’s lips. Moaning, the girl drank and coughed.