He felt her words like a punch to his gut. She would always be honest with him. Unfortunately, he was unable to reciprocate. His response was terse and hasty. “It is time to go.” He hurried her forward and without thinking she rushed away from him to tend the more severely injured as they were loaded into the cart.
Rhys almost reached out and stopped her, but at the last moment he let her be. Later he wouldlay down some rules and God help her if she did not obey them.
Heather took a look at Douglas’s wound before she allowed them to place him in the cart. She had no choice. The wound had to be seared before he could travel and even then she was not sure if he would survive.
She ordered a fire built and the warriors were quick to summon Rhys.
“Before you argue with me,” Heather said when he stopped in front of her, “please understand that if his wound is not seared shut, he will not survive the journey home.”
“See it done,” Rhys ordered his men and turned to walk away.
“I request that I be allowed to accompany him in the cart.”
“No,” Rhys said bluntly.
“But—”
“Do not question me on this,” he snapped. “Be satisfied with what I have granted you.” He turned and walked away.
Heather turned her attention to the task ahead to keep her mind from dwelling on the fact that she now had to seek permission from someone after years of doing as she pleased. It was not something she could or wanted to comprehend right now. At the moment, making certain Douglas survived the journey was what she needed to think on.
Everything was prepared quickly and the task performed just as hastily. Heather was glad Douglas had passed out from the pain of the searing. He could then be placed on the cart and not suffer more pain until he woke.
Once it was done, Heather was surprised to see that she would ride her own mare. She pressed her face to the mare’s face and whispered, “It is good to see you, Meadow. I will find you a nice field where you can enjoy your wild onions.”
As if she understood, the mare nodded, and Heather smiled. It vanished quickly, startled when hands caught at her waist, and she was lifted with ease onto the horse. She looked down at her husband with wide eyes.
He placed his hand on her bare leg. “Do not grow so alarmed when touched, for the only hands you will ever feel on you—are mine.” He mounted his horse that waited a short distance from them and guided the animal alongside hers.
Meadow snorted as if displeased with the stallion’s presence and Heather reached out to calm her with a soothing hand.
“I have things I must see to. I will see you at the keep.”
Heather wondered over his abrupt departure but did not dwell on it. She was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than to reach the keep and have this day end. Or did she?
Tonight she would see her marriage to the Dark Dragon consummated.
CHAPTER 5
Heather stared bewildered as they entered the McComb village. She had visited here with her father over the years and with each visit the place had grown more neglected and the clans’ people older with few young ones to replace them. She was amazed to see the changes in the village. The cottages had new thatched roofs, doors and window shutters were all new, and summer flower wreaths graced most of the doors. It appeared as if the village had come to life. Even the gloom of a cloudy day could not diminish the improvements to the village.
As Heather looked about, she recognized a few of the clansmen. Many of the women were young, their stomachs swollen with bairns. There were a few elders, but not many she recognized. Where were those she was familiar with?
Rhys was not there to greet Heather and though she was directed to the keep, she ignored the ghost warrior’s orders and saw to the care of the wounded. Many wives and mothers came to claim the injured and Heather spoke with each of them, advising them on specific care needed.
It was when Bea appeared, looking far more pregnant than four or five months, that Heather knew she would need help with her husband. It was also the same time that the Dark Dragon made hisappearance, all moving out of his path as he approached his wife.
“It has been a long day and it is time for us to talk,” Rhys said, holding his hand out to his wife.
Heather looked to her husband and then looked to Bea, crying over Douglas who clung to her as if for the last time. She turned to her husband and said, “I cannot desert someone in need of tending.” She waited, seeing the anger in his eyes grow, but what else could she do. She could never abandon someone in need and Douglas and his wife were in dire need, perhaps if her husband understood that.
She stepped closer to him and laid a gentle hand on his arm as she whispered, “I fear he will not last the night. Please let me help them.”
Rhys felt his anger dissipate. She thought not of herself, but those in need. There was a time he had known such kindness, though he could barely recall it, but the memories it did invoke were better left buried.
Rhys brought his face close to hers. “You have asked many favors of me today. What do I get in return?”
“What do you want?” she asked without hesitation.
