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“I suppose ye’re right,” she said, looking down at Imanie, feeling her heart break. She should never have left her here alone yesterday. “What happened to her?”
“I dinna ken. She clutched her chest and fell like a rock. It was all so sudden.”
“It must have been her heart.”
“Could be.”
“Will ye really help me bury her body?”
“I promise,” said the Highlander.
“All right,” she agreed, bending down and using her hand to close Imanie’s eyes. She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I am sorry I wasna here to help ye when ye needed me,” she whispered to the woman. Then she stepped around Imanie and made her way to the door of the hut. “The needle and thread are in her sewin’ kit in the house. It will be better if ye come inside while I sew ye up.”
He followed her into the cottage and collapsed atop Imanie’s bed with a loud thump.
Fia filled a basin with water and found some old rags, bringing them over to the bed along with a needle and thread.
“Have ye ever done this before, lassie?” he asked as she threaded the needle.
“Nay,” she admitted. “But I ken how to stitch, and I have tended to the wounded in other ways before.”
“Then let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, removing his weapon belt and lying it on the bed. With his eyes fastened to her, he reached behind his back and drew his sword. Her heart about stopped until she saw him toss it on the bed and heard his next words. “Help me off with my tunic.”
“What?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to help the man undress.
“Well, did ye think ye could sew me up right through my clothes?”
“Of course no’,” she said, feeling foolish. She put down the needle and thread and reached over to help him remove his tunic.
“Alastair,” he said once his chest was bare.
“Pardon me?”
“My name is Alastair MacPherson.” He feigned a half-smile. “I thought if I was goin’ to be half-naked and on a bed with a bonnie lassie and all alone, ye should at least ken my name.”
“Oh. Yes, I ken yer name. I remember it from the day ye saved me in the woods three years ago.” She cleaned his wound while she spoke.
“One guid turn deserves another, right?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Fia inspected his wound, pushing the needle through his skin.
He bit back a curse and closed his eyes while she sewed him up. “What is this place and why are ye even here alone?”
“It’s a secret garden,” she told him. “My cousins, sister, and I would sneak out of the castle to meet here with Imanie.”
“What for?”
She looked up, pulling the thread as she did so. She had started feeling comfortable around him and had already told him too much. She had to be careful. “Never mind. I shouldna have even told ye that.” She put her head down and continued to sew. “What happened to ye?”
“I was stabbed with a sword,” he told her, sounding as if he thought she was daft even to have to ask.
“I can see that. It looks as if ye were lucky since the wound is mainly in the skin. The man wasna a guid aim. Why didna the person who wounded ye, also run ye through again to make sure ye were dead?”
Her statement must have sounded cold and cruel to him because he made a face before he answered. “I suppose it was because he was too interested in stealin’ my horse.”
“Then ye have no way to get back to yer clan?”
“Half my clan has left without me by my orders, and the other half is either dead or have been taken prisoner by the English.”
