“Och,” said Ana softly. “That’s a good sign.”
Aiden put his hand on the dog’s snout, surprised to find the wiry fur was soft and smooth. “There’s a lad,” he said encouragingly. “You’ll eat now, or I’ll take you to task.”
He spooned a little broth into the animal’s mouth.
It swallowed, then licked its lips in a silent request for more.
Ana looked on, amazed. “I tried the very same thing only a few moments ago, to no avail.”
“He’s a wise dog. Knows better than to refuse his chief.”
She snorted. “Were you, perchance, the one who carried him here from the forest?”
“Aye.”
Ana nodded. “He remembers your scent. He knows it was you who saved him.”
For some reason that pleased Aiden. He spent the next while happily plying the beast with soup and talking to his brother’s chosen woman. When he had emptied the bowl and set it aside, he was rewarded by a damp lick on his hands and a contented rumble in the dog’s throat.
As he carefully shifted the dog and rose to his feet, he asked, “When will he be hunting rabbits again?”
The healer laughed. “One step at a time. Let’s get him on his feet first.”
“But he will recover?” he asked seriously.
She nodded. “Although, it would be best if you returned a few more times to encourage him to eat.”
He frowned.
“Do you wish him to heal swiftly?” Ana prompted.
“Of course.”
“Then spare him a few moments of your time.”
Strangely, Aiden was not insulted by the request. A stable boy or young Jamie would have been better choices, but the task had been oddly rewarding.
He nodded.
“You did well to heal him,” he acknowledged. “I will return.”
* * *
The instant MacCurran stood up and showed signs of leaving, Isabail scurried away from the door to Ana Bisset’s hut. She wasn’t quite sure what to think about what she’d just seen, but one thing was certain—she did not want to be caught spying.
Darting behind the other roundhouses, she kept to the shadows and circled the central fire to the door of MacCurran’s hut. Once inside, she tossed the blankets onto the mattress and ran a quick hand over her hair to flatten any hairs gone astray. Just in time, as it happened.
MacCurran entered the roundhouse a moment later.
Isabail watched him as he closed the door.
All of the anger and bitterness she had felt upon finding Ana Bisset in his camp was gone, replaced by two emotions she wasn’t entirely comfortable with: gratitude for the healer’s efforts to save her injured dog and amazement over MacCurran’s gentle feeding of that same beast. He’d actually coaxed Gorm to eat with softly spoken words.
The sting of impending tears forced her to turn away.
Damn him.
He’d done it again. Confused her. Shaken her beliefs.
