She wondered if she could ask someone to help her find some herbs in the forest and along the side of the river. It seemed weird how the place she had been brought forcefully to provide her with so much opportunity and a sense of purpose.
Another thought suddenly occurred to her. Where was she going to sleep tonight? Hamish had given her his own bed the previous night because she was ill, but now that she was better, would she be tied to a tree again? The thought was terrifying, but somehow she thought it unlikely that Hamish would take that route again.
So what was going to happen to her? Amanda doubted that she would be given a tent of her own, and the thought of sharing one with one of the hostile women was a nightmare. But there was an even worse option. Would Hamish make her share with a man? Surely not!
Amanda was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice the well-built man with steady grey eyes and greying dark, wavy hair approaching her. He was older than Hamish, but Amanda guessed that the wrinkles fanning his eyes were the results of laughter more than age. He was tall, although not quite as tall as Hamish, and had an air of authority that marked him out as someone that the other men respected. Amanda liked him at once.
“Good mornin’ healer,” he said pleasantly. “My name is Gregor Nicholson, an’ I am Hamish’s—well, I suppose ye could say I am his right-hand man. I am glad tae meet ye.”
“Call me Amanda,” she invited, as the stranger reached out and clasped her hand in both of his.
His grip was warm and firm, and he smiled at her broadly as he said, “Thank ye for what ye did for Jimmy. He is a hard worker an’ a kind boy, an’ we would have been so sorry to lose him.”
“I was glad to be of use,” she replied, returning his smile. “Please let me know if there are any other people who need my services. I am always at hand.”
Gregor frowned and shifted his gaze away from her for a moment. When he looked up, he said awkwardly, “I am sorry about the way we took ye, hen. It was no’ very nice o’ us tae scared ye so.”
“Well, I cannot say it was pleasant,” Amanda agreed, her heart fluttering, “but it’s done now, and something good has come out of it.”
She looked across at Jimmy, who was now playing cards with another young man, looking as though he had never been ill at all.
Gregor followed her gaze, then asked, “Ye have been properly trained as a healer, then?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I spent two years studying and refining my skills. I will never be able to work miracles, of course, but I can set broken bones, clean wounds and bring down fevers most of the time, although there are some conditions that are beyond my skill.”
“Aye, well, as ye say, ye cannae work miracles,” Gregor agreed. “Naebody can, but ye are a fine healer an’ a fine woman to have used yer skills on the people who took ye… truly we thank ye.”
“Thank you so much.” Amanda was blushing. She hesitated for a moment, then asked, “I am sorry to ask this, but…” Again she paused awkwardly. “I only have one dress and this one that Hamish borrowed from Fiona. My other one is filthy, so I haveno clean clothes at all. Is there anywhere I can get some new ones? They don’t have to be smart, or even new, just practical.”
Gregor nodded. “I will see if I can find somebody tae take ye tae the village,” he replied. “There is a market once a week an’ ye can get some nice things there.”
He turned and looked around to where porridge was being dished out from a large cauldron by one of the women. She looked to be halfway through a pregnancy, and Amanda wondered if she would be at the camp long enough to deliver the baby.
She received her plate and helping of porridge, and debated whether to ask the woman when the baby was due, and if she could help her with the delivery, but decided against it. The mother-to-be looked as friendly as everyone else—which was, of course, not friendly at all—and Amanda wondered if she would ever form a good relationship with these people who seemed so determined to hate her.
As she turned these thoughts around in her mind, she happened to glance at Fiona, who seemed to epitomise this spirit of loathing. Her eyes were narrowed and the corners of her mouth turned down, and as Amanda watched, her brow furrowed into a deep frown.
Amanda felt as though a weight had suddenly landed on her shoulders, and sighed deeply. She was never going to fit in, no matter how hard she tried.
Just then, Hamish arrived with the cloak she had borrowed earlier and handed it to her with a slight grin.
“You forgot this,” he said kindly.
Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw Fiona’s frown turn into a fierce glare, and for the first time she wondered if she had disrupted some kind of relationship between her and Hamish. If there had been such a thing, Fiona would have disliked Amandainstinctively, and the fact that she was English was rubbing salt in the wound.
Amanda was surprised to find that she herself disliked the idea of a liaison between Hamish and Fiona, not only because she held her in complete contempt but because… Was she jealous? The idea stunned her.
Amanda took the cloak from him, then looked at him quizzically. “Thank you,” she said. “But I am not cold.”
“I’m taking you for a ride,” he said. “You said you needed new clothes, and I intend to see that you get them.”
“Oh, thank you,” Amanda replied, “but I can wash my own and give this one back to Fiona.”
Hamish shook his head, and his eyes crinkled with amusement. “That is not what you said to Gregor,” he remarked. “You said you needed more clothes, and I am offering to help you get them. Is there a problem with that?” he raised his eyebrows in a question, and Amanda suddenly felt silly.
She needed new clothes and this very attractive man was offering to procure them for her. Why on earth was she hesitating?
“I cannot pay for this.” Amanda replied, sighing.
