She glances toward the Trading Post, and then nods, moving aside so that I can enter her home.
‘Lay Taramel on the table,’ I say, and she does what I ask.
I unswaddle the tiny thing. ‘Not very old,’ I murmur and Dawn nods.
‘But six weeks.’
She looks worried as I feel the babe’s stomach and chest, looking over her fingers and toes.
‘She is warm,’ I say. ‘I would suggest a tincture for you.’
‘Me?’ she asks.
‘Aye. When you feed the little one, the medicine will go to her through your milk. I’ll go to the apothecary now and get it for you.’
‘Will she be all right?’ Dawn asks, stroking the babe’s brow lightly.
‘Take the tincture three times a day. Keep her close to you. She’ll be cool by the morning, but keep taking the tincture for five days,’ I advise.
She grasps my hand suddenly. ‘Thank you,’ she chokes out, tears coming to her eyes. ‘I’ve been so worried!’
I pat her fingers. ‘You can come to the healer’s rooms whenever you have need, and if there’s no one there, come to the cottage. You know where I live?’
She nods and then hesitates.
‘Was there something else?’ I ask.
‘Well, yes, there was something.’ Her cheeks pinken. ‘It’s my teats. They’re so sore and cracked. They bleed. Feeding her is so painful.’
I give Dawn a sympathetic look. ‘I have a salve that will help.’
‘It’s safe for the babe?’
I nod. ‘Perfectly. I’ll bring it later.’
She nods. ‘Thank you.’
With a nod, and a promise to return with the medicines, I go back into the street.
I see Jak finally able to get away from the old man, and try to give him a normal smile. I’ve already decided not to tell him about Tavish’s rudeness, nor what I think I did. I won’t tell anyone aboutthat. I might need the upper hand later.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says with a bemused glance at the old man who’s now slowly walking down the road. ‘Old Alben is difficult to dissuade once he begins talking.’
‘It’s all right,’ I say. ‘Tavish said he didn’t have any of those herbs today.’
Jak's brow furrows. 'You’re sure? They're all usually there.'
'That's what he told me,' I say quietly with a light shrug that I hope looks natural.
I see his countenance darken. ‘Are you all right?’
I give him what I hope is a disarming smile. ‘Of course.’
'I see.’
He doesn’t look wholly convinced that I’m telling the truth, but starts walking with me back toward the apothecary.
‘I met a woman just now outside the Trading Post,’ I say as we go. ‘She needs a tincture and some salve. Can we take them to her in a bit?’
