All was briefly silent in the wake of my interruption.
“You and I will have a long talk upon our return,” the laird said to me, his glare blazingly direct. “First we find Wilkie.” He turned to his brother. “The lass can ride with you.”
“I can ride,” I offered, but my request was ignored. It seemed I was not to be trusted. Gratitude was not their foremost reaction to my sudden appearance, I reflected with some annoyance.
The group was quick to assemble, and I was led outside and hoisted upon a colossal horse, in front of Kade. “You’ll show me the path to Wilkie,” he said.
He wrapped massive arms around me and spurred his horse into a full gallop, followed closely by the others. I feared getting poked or speared with one of his many weapons, but I had no choice but to cling to him.
We made quick time of the flatlands and soon were traversing the steep slope of the hillside. It was so steeply inclined in places I feared our horses would flip from the weight of us, but the men were undeterred. I pointed out the path, and we reached the entrance of the cave just as dusk had given way to darkness.
“Here,” I said. Kade leaped from his horse, making no move to assist me, and he walked toward the cave with ground-eating strides, followed closely by the laird and several others. Kade’s horse was so large I had difficulty jumping down from the great height I found myself at. I swung my leg over and tried to lower myself to the ground but ended up falling into a painful heap. Brushing myself off, I walked over to the entrance of the cave, and crouched just inside, near where the men were circled, kneeling around Wilkie. The dying light cast a subtle glow into the small space.
“Brother,” said the laird, touching his hand to Wilkie’s forehead. “We’re taking you home.” Rigid concern lent a stern severity to the laird’s bold features as he exchanged looks with Kade. “He’s burning.”
Kade lifted the blanket I’d placed over Wilkie’s chest, pulling it down to reveal the lightly bandaged wound. He peeled this back, and each of them drew a quick intake of breath.
“You sewed this, lass?” the laird asked me.
“Aye.”
“Not a bad job of it,” Kade commented.
Wilkie stirred, his head rolling from side to side. “Roses,” he said, quite clearly, though his eyes were still closed.
“He’s delirious,” said the laird. “Let’s move him to the litter.”
“Roses,” Wilkie called out, louder this time.
Kade watched his brother, then his gaze slid to me. “What did you say your name was?”
“Roses,” I said quietly.
Kade nodded his head toward Wilkie in a curt, commanding gesture: I was being granted permission—or being ordered, perhaps—to go to him. I crawled over to Wilkie. I whispered in his ear, not caring if I was overheard, “I’m here, warrior.”
He settled instantly. His eyes opened, and he blinked several times as though struggling to keep them open. He reached up to lace his hand under my hair, around the back of my head. “Ah, lass. Such a beautiful dream, you are. Kiss me again.”
The laird looked less than pleased by the exchange, but he was studying his brother’s reaction with interest, obviously relieved to find him alive.
“’Tis time for you to go home,” I said softly. “Your brothers have come for you.”
“Stay with me, Roses,” he said drowsily, and it wasn’t a question.
I glanced at the laird, whose attention was directed at me. Would he allow it? His eyes followed Wilkie’s hand as it stroked through my hair, then fell at his side.
“Aye,” said Laird Mackenzie. “You’ll come. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FOUR
IWASNOTONLYALLOWEDbut also expected to remain at Wilkie’s side, as he was taken to his chambers and treated by the healer.
His chambers were large and, as expected, luxurious. Heavy furs hung at the windows to protect against the night breeze, which was becoming more biting with each passing day. A fire had been laid in a grand stone fireplace and crackled pleasantly, casting orange light. Wilkie’s bed was supported by four vertical carved wooden beams that reached to the ceiling and were hung with thick embroidered curtains, pulled back now, so the healer could attend to his injury.
I took my place in a chair by the fire as Wilkie’s attendants inspected and cleaned his wound. I was so exhausted, I could have slept in the hard wooden seat. My eyelids felt heavy, and I struggled to keep myself from drifting.
Kade and the laird hung back, watching the healer attend to their brother. In a flurry of commotion, two younger women rushed through the door, frantic with the news of Wilkie’s return. His sisters, it was easy to see, with their dark hair and blue eyes.
“Wilkie,” one of them gasped, pressing her hand to his brow. “He’s fevered,” she said.
