“They’re in the horde lands to the west of us. It’s mainly a goodwill trip to keep relationships between the hordes positive and ensure borders are confirmed, neither party encroaching on the other’s land and all that. Maybe discuss matings between clans.”
“My ma is actually from that horde!” Nina grinned. “She moved here decades ago when she met my father—folks regularly move between the lands and hordes, especially when love is involved.”
“That’s good,” I commented. “Crappy relationships with the neighbors can make everyone suffer. I saw some stupid shit in Alaska where hordes were so busy trying to tear each other apart that they forgot to look after their own.”
Given that females were rarer in the hordes, sometimes they got alittle…overprotective.
After scraping the last of my oatmeal from the bowl, I hummed in appreciation. Griffin pushed his plate toward me, and with a roll of my eyes, I plucked a piece of toast off the plate. Griff wouldn’t stop until I ate more. He was like a mother hen with me, which was funny, considering I washishealer, and it was my job to fuss over him.
“So, what do you want to do this morning?” Griffin asked.
I took a moment to think. Ideally, I wanted to dive into the files and supplies in the medicine cabinet to get a good idea of where I stood and whether I needed to order more. But I had a sinking feeling Jenkins wouldn’t let me near his offices unless I was treating Rory, and that was only because his Alpha had ordered him to allow me to help. Were it up to him, I’d be back in my car, driving away, in a heartbeat.
“I want to look at the medical supplies. Will Jenkins be an issue?” I asked.
Griffin frowned. “He’ll be a pain in our necks, for sure, but Alpha Orsen is back tonight, and I’m sure he’ll set the old bastard straight. Maybe this morning, you just settle in. You sent the teas for Rory, right?”
“Yeah, his parents are giving them to him today. I’ll check on him this evening. Do they have a way to let me know if he improves or gets worse?”
Griffin held up his cell phone in affirmation.
A tall, lanky young man ambled up to our table. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen. “Uh, Griffin? Could we have Miss Rowan’s help? Kellan hurt his hand. I think he needs stitches. Doc said he was busy.”
He looked between the two of us, a slight panic on his face.
“Kellan?” I asked, already getting up.
“His older brother,” Griffin informed me before turning to the boy. “Alex, go up to my room. At the end of the bed is Rowan’s medical bag. Grab it for us. Where’s your brother?”
“With Ma,” the boy told him before turning and dashing out of the room.
“She’ll be in the back kitchen,” Griffin said, standing and gesturing toward the rear. “Follow me.”
“There’s never a quiet day for a healer.” I chuckled as I strode after him.
We entered the back kitchen, which was a smaller, more intimate one directly off the large room I’d eaten in the previous night. Ma and another young man, who I assumed was Kellan, were sitting at a tiny table. A cloth, stained bright red, was wrapped around his right hand. Kellan looked slightly queasy while Ma fussed over him, putting pressure on his wound.
Ma’s face broke into a relieved smile when she saw me. “Rowan! Oh, you’re a welcome sight. Kellan accidentally got himself a nasty cut.” She nodded at the hand in question.
“Hi, Kellan.” I spoke in a soft but firm voice, one I used to calm patients. After making a beeline for the sink, I quickly washed my hands and took a seat at the table, gesturing for Kellan’s hand. “I’m Rowan. I’m a traveling healer. What did you do?”
I gently lifted the bandage, careful not to worsen the damage. The cut was deep. Stitches were a must.
“I was putting some fence posts up, and I slipped.”
“Okay, I need to clean this out, then I’ll stitch it up and bandage it. Your brother went to get my medical bag.”
Kellan’s eyes flared wide. “You can do that?”
“I can. I’ll use dissolvable stitches. They’ll wash away naturally in a week or two, so, unless it gets infected, they won’t need to be taken out. You’ll just have to keep it clean and covered for a while. I can give you an ointment as well.”
Griffin stepped forward and placed my old leather medical bag on the table. The young boy, Alex, must have been damn fast to get it so quickly. Muttering a quiet thank you, I started pulling out antiseptic supplies and a suture kit.
“Washing it may sting a little.” I scrunched my nose at Kellan, who took a deep breath and nodded bravely.
“How old are you?” I asked to distract him while I doused a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol.
“Seventeen,” he said in a shaky voice.
