Page 27 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Wynda’s worried blue gaze swept once toward the window and then toward the boy. “Ye’re sure about this?”

“I am.”

Tears shone glassy in the woman’s eyes. “And ye can help Duncan live?”

Celia stepped toward Wynda and gave her most confident nod. “I can.”

It was a wild claim when the boy was so ill, but Celia was determined. She would not rest until he was better.

Wynda cried out and caught Celia in an unexpected and exuberant hug. Celia stiffened against the contact, unsure how to respond. The woman did not notice her obvious discomfort and rocked her several times before finally letting go.

The aroma of freshly baked bread surrounded Wynda, giving her a homey, comforting feel. A snarl of hunger emanated from Celia’s stomach.

Wynda released her. “Ach, ye’re hungry, lass. I’ll get ye some food—”

“No. Please, I need water boiled for Duncan. Also several bowls, clean strips of linen, a sponge…” She looked down at the sorry state of her dress. “And an extra apron.”

Wynda gave a nod and bustled from the room. Silence fell once more. Celia rolled up her sleeves and dug through the massive pack she’d carried across the western tip of Scotland.

Within minutes, Wynda returned with an armload of the required supplies and no breath. “I’ve got…” she panted, “…the water…in the next…room.” She stood upright and wiped the back of her hand across her slick brow. “Ye just call…if ye need more.”

Celia waited until Wynda left before peeling back Duncan’s heavy blankets. Alec opened his mouth, but she quieted his protests with a glance. “Trust me,” she said in reminder.

The boy’s lips were dry and cracked.

“Does he relieve himself frequently?” she asked.

Alec stared at her with a blank face. “I dinna…”

“No,” Wynda said, coming back into the room with a pot dangling from a thick cloth in her hand. “Mayhap once per day, twice at most.”

Celia nodded. “That’s what I thought.” She tied the apron over her filthy clothes and scooped a bowl from the kettle of boiled water. To it, she added meadowsweet and blackthorn bark to bring down his fever, blackthorn berries to increase his appetite when he woke, and some skullcaps, just a pinch, to ease the ache in his head from lack of proper liquids in his body.

The water turned a murky, brownish green with bits of dried herbs floating at the top. “Set this by the window to cool while it steeps,” Celia instructed.

While Celia waited, she wiped the sweat from Duncan’s flushed face and carefully prodded various parts of his body where sickness such as his could originate. Organs sometimes went bad. If this were the case with Duncan, her claims were for naught.

Fortunately, he did not appear to wince at any of her delicate presses. A good sign.

“It’s ready,” Wynda said, and set the bowl onto the small table beside the bed.

“You may close the window now,” Celia said, and pushed the sponge into the tea. “Keep the room the same temperature as you would for a well person, but try to air it out once per day.”

The sponge darkened and swelled in the mixture. Celia pinched it from the liquid, then, with a hand under it to keep drips from landing on the sick boy, she brought it to his lips and gently squeezed. A thin line of murky liquid dribbled into his mouth and trickled from the corner of his lip.

Alec hovered over her shoulder. “He’ll choke.”

But the boy did not choke, not with the careful amount she administered. His throat flexed and the sharp knot of his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Celia ignored Alec leaning so close and focused on the slow method of getting Duncan to drink the tea, stream by careful stream.

This process repeated through Alec’s impatient grunts and the shifting of his feet.

Perhaps his close observation should have bothered her, but concern did strange things to people. Experience had taught her asking for more space was only successful for several moments and wasn’t worth the effort.

When the tea was finally gone, Celia rubbed a salve made with plantain leaves over Duncan’s cracked lips and wiped her hands on the apron. “That is all I can do for now. He’ll need to be fed this tea every four hours with water in between, the same as you’ve seen me do.”

Alec frowned. “Ye dinna bleed him.”