Page 23 of The Eagle

Blowing out soft breaths, she remained on her bottom with her head bent.

“I did not mean to startle ye,” Stuart said as he neared. When she didn’t move, he noticed that she held her right hand in her left, blood seeping through her fingers.

“Here let me help.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her to stand.

Cait let out a shaky breath. “It hurts.”

Stuart walked her to the water barrel and once again dipped the bowl into it, then washed the wound. It was a deep cut that would need to be stitched. The bleeding did not stop, but at least all the dirt was gone.

“Come inside, Mother can help.”

Pale and looking as if she was fighting not to cry, the lass allowed him to guide her to the great hall. He called out for a servant to fetch his mother and almost immediately his mother hurried to them. “Oh, dear, what happened?”

“I startled her, and she cut herself with the garden spade,” Stuart explained. “It was not my intention. I thought she’d seen me.”

“Poor lass,” his mother said. At the words, his brother’s wife, Isobel, arrived and pushed him away.

“Please fetch my kit from the shelf there.” She pointed to a cabinet by the corridor. Stuart did as Isobel instructed.

“Stuart, hold her still. The cut is long, and this will hurt.” Isobel gave Cait an apologetic look. “If ye have to cry, it’s fine Cait.”

Stuart pulled up a chair and sat behind Cait. He held her against his chest. The lass shivered and he knew she was in great pain. The cut went from between her thumb and forefinger to the other side of her hand. It was an awful place for a jagged cut, and he knew it would cause her discomfort for a long time.

At the first stitch Cait cried out softly, and her breathing became more irregular with each subsequent one. Each time the needle pierced her skin, Stuart ached for her.

“I am so very sorry,” he kept repeating in her ear. Whether she heard him over the pain, he wasn’t sure.

By the time Isobel finished stitching her hand and wrapping it, Cait was sobbing.

“Why do ye cry?” his mother asked. “Does it continue to hurt lass?”

Cait sniffed loudly. “With my hand cut, I cannot continue to work and feed my family. Wh-what shall I do?”

“Do not worry about that right now,” Isobel said.

Both women gave Stuart a disappointed look. Finally, he mouthed “What?”

“Tell Cait what ye plan to do to help?” his mother said giving him a wide-eyed look as if there was an obvious thing to say.

“I will get herbs that will help with the pain from Greer,” he started and when his mother motioned with her hand for him to continue, he said, “And I will take ye home to rest.”

By the roll of his mother’s eyes and Isobel’s head shake, he’d said the wrong thing.

“Ye should stay here where we can look after ye,” Isobel said. “Stuart will also…” She looked to him.

Cait turned and met his gaze. His heart melted at seeing her wet eyelashes clumped together around her red-rimmed eyes. “I will inform yer mother what has happened and ensure that yer family has everything they need until ye can work again.”

His mother’s wide smile made it obvious he’d finally said the right thing.

Leaving the women to do whatever it was they did, Stuart went to find Anton. His squire nodded emphatically while he gave instructions for food and grain to be taken to Cait’s home and a message that she would be unable to travel home for a few days.

Once that was completed, he sought Darach to discuss the upcoming changing of duties at the southern post. In the study he found his brothers, Darach, Ewan, and Gideon.

With his wife in the family way, Duncan had returned to his home and was not expected to return to the keep unless there was a good reason.

Ewan lived close enough that he could travel back and forth daily, so he was usually at the keep most of the day helping with whatever was needed.

“A messenger just arrived,” Darach said. “Laird Maclean has died.”