"Don'tfashyourself. I'm good with a needle."
Lachlan approached, carrying Jamie. "The wee man fell asleep."
Rebbie grinned and held out his hands. "I'll carry him inside."
Once Rebbie had the sleeping lad in his arms, his head resting against his shoulder, he felt, for the first time, that he was truly a father. He kissed his son's head, then turned to find Calla watching him with a grin, tears glimmering in her eyes. Wrapping his arm around her, he kissed her temple.
"Oh,monamie, you are hurt." Angelique rushed toward them, then fussed over Calla's injury. Rebbie left Devil in George's care and, carrying Jamie, followed the ladies into the great hall.
"Who is the healer here?" Rebbie asked.
"Rowena. Also, Gwyneth is here," Angelique reminded him.
"Aye, 'tis good. I think Calla may need stitches. I can do it, but I'm certain Gwyneth is far more skilled at the task."
After handing off her weebairnto a nursemaid, Gwyneth approached them. "What has happened?"
Rebbie explained the situation and how Calla was injured.
"We must clean the cut well," Gwyneth said.
Jamie awoke wide-eyed and apparently raring to go. He glanced around quickly, no doubt looking for his friends.
Reluctantly, Rebbie set him to his feet, and Jamie scurried across the great hall toward the four other lads.
Gwyneth and Angelique ushered Calla up the narrow stairwell and into a bedchamber. Rebbie followed but hung back near the door, watching Calla with concern.
The other two women glanced at him, then shared a faint conspiratorial smile.
"We promise not to hurt her, my laird," Gwyneth said.
"I know you won't." Realizing he was perhaps being a bit overprotective, he felt his face heat. But he was intensely concerned about Calla's cut. He didn't want her to lose too much blood nor get an infection.
"Rebbie," Angelique said gently. "S'ilvousplait, find something to drink. You must be thirsty after that long ride. Then, return in a little while."
"And would you please keep an eye on Jamie?" Calla asked him.
"Aye." Reluctantly, Rebbie turned and left the room. Indeed, he knew Gwyneth was an excellent healer. He'd witnessed her bringing Lachlan back to health after a terrible injury. And Calla was not that bad off.
Besides, he did want to see what his son was up to. Entering the great hall where the servants were busy setting up for supper, he spotted Jamie talking with the other lads. Considering how wide their eyes were, he must have been telling them a tall-tale. He grinned and proceeded to the private corner away from all the activity where Lachlan and Alasdair sat.
"Is Calla all right?" Lachlan asked.
"Aye. She's in the capable hands of both your wives."
"No telling what sort of ideas they'll put in her head." Lachlan grinned. "Ale?" He handed Rebbie a tankard from a tray on a small table.
"I thank you." Rebbie accepted it. "Slàinte."
They all raised their glasses in a toast, then Rebbie drank deeply, only now realizing how thirsty he'd been. After swallowing, he said, "I can never thank you both enough for your help over the past couple of weeks."
"We're glad to help. You've certainly helped us in the past," Alasdair said.
Lachlan nodded in agreement, then smirked. "Now, are you going to marry the lady or nay?"
"Aye, of course. She has agreed to put up with me." Rebbie smiled. "And Jamie will live with us at Castle Rebbinglen."
"He's a fine lad," Alasdair said.
