Just as the first fingers of dawn reached up to scrape her nails across the land, Fiona gave the signaled knock on the door.
“Ye must leave now,” she said, staring behind her into the distance. “I was discreet, but there is a contingent of dragoons not five miles away. They will reach here before the day is through. I’ve a new package to deliver, and I’ll no’ be able to return. Please, Annie. Go now.”
Annie stifled a cold shudder that started at the base of her spine. The farm fields stretching away behind Fiona were bare of life, reminding her just how alone they truly were. She’d known this day was coming, but she’d faced down the enemy before. She could do it again.
“Can ye take Leonard and Andy with ye? I’ll get the rest of us to safety.”
“Aye, but why do ye no’ come with me now?” Fiona glanced behind her again, her nervous energy spreading quickly through the room.
Annie tugged her inside, shut the door, and then beckoned Fiona to follow her into the back room of the house, a bedchamber that she and Eppy had shared with Mrs. Sullivan. With the door shut, she said, “We will only slow ye down. Andy and Leonard are the most healed. Ye’ve a package to deliver, ye said so yourself.”
Fiona started to shake her head, but Annie pressed her hands to her friend’s shoulders and whispered, “We will only slow ye down. I promise, I will be safe. We will figure out a way to meet soon so that ye can see for yourself.”
“I dinna like it.” Fiona pressed her lips together in a frown. “We are supposed to be doing things together.”
“Nay, we’re no’. We vowed to help the prince, and each of us has our own talents for that.” Annie tossed her friend a winning smile in hopes of changing the subject. “Before ye go, will ye eat some stew? ’Tis quite good.”
Fiona shook her head, sadness making her eyes droop. She did not return Annie’s smile, which sent Annie’s belly into a swirling storm of apprehension.
“There is no time, my friend,” Fiona said. “Leave the stew. Ye must escape, and ye must do it now.”
“I will.” This time Annie didn’t bother to hide her fear behind a smile. “And I’ll see ye soon.”
Fiona nodded, thrusting a small velvet bag into Annie’s hands. “Keep this in case ye need it.”
Annie unwrapped the packet as Fiona opened the door. The men in the main part of the cottage were quick to appear busy, most likely having been listening at the door to every word exchanged.
In her hand, Annie held a jeweled brooch in the shape of a Tudor rose, pearls, rubies, and gold forming the white and red petals and the golden center.
“What?” Annie shook her head. “I canna take this.”
Fiona glanced at her. “Aye, ye can, and ye will. It should be enough to free ye if ye’re caught.”
“Or get me arrested for thievery.”
Fiona shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. “Nay, my friend, it will gain ye safe passage. Trust me.”
Annie wrapped the jewel back into the soft velvet and tried to thrust it back at Fiona.
Fiona held up her hands, refusing to take it. “I meant it for ye. Keep it. And when this world is put to rights, if ye still have it, put it in that treasure box ye kept hidden at Cullidunloch.”
“If no one has stolen it already.”
“Ye hid it well.”
“Aye.”
Fiona pressed a kiss to Annie’s cheek and then turned to find Leonard and Andy having already collected together their meager belongings.
The two soldiers approached Annie, standing before her sheepishly, heads ducked, their equally brown hair hanging low over their faces.
“We shouldna be leaving ye,” Andy said, and Leonard proclaimed his agreement.
“Aye, ye should,” Annie said brightly. “The two of ye are well enough to travel back to the prince and devote your time to the cause. That is a soldier’s mission, is it no’? Ye’re no’ to remain behind doing chores for me. Besides, I will see ye all again soon when the prince establishes a new camp.” Despite what propriety might call for, Annie pulled them both into an embrace. Though she had no children of her own, she thought that seeing them off would feel a lot like this, like she was tearing off a piece of her flesh and letting it walk away. Aye, it was a strange feeling to have for men she’d not known all that long, but when she’d found them on the field, they’d been on the brink of death, and she had nursed them back to health. Prayed for them. Feared for them. And to see them stand, walk, smile, all of it was like watching a man be reborn from the grips of mortality.
Before she started to cry, she tugged Fiona into a hug, squeezing her tight. Fiona’s duty to the cause was dangerous, perhaps more so than Jenny’s, who rode into battle with hundreds of men at her back. Fiona was often traversing the Highlands alone, delivering important and dangerous messages to Jacobite rebels. If she were caught, hers was an offense punishable by death. But she was good enough not to get caught, often called a phantom by those who suspected her existence—able to get through walls and doors that should have been impassable to a human.
“I will pray for ye,” Fiona whispered fiercely. “Please dinna delay.”
Annie squeezed her hard one more time. “I will no’.”
“Head west,” Fiona said. “To the Isle of Skye. There is a fisherman by the name of Murtagh at the docks of Loch Alsh who will take ye across if ye give him my name. He’ll give ye information on where to hide as well.”
“Thank ye.”
“See ye soon.” Fiona, Leonard, and Andy stole into the dawn, sticking to the shadows where the sun had not yet touched, and then they were gone.
Annie listened for a minute to the quiet morning. The mist rose up on the ground, almost as if none of this was truly happening. And then, in the distance, she thought she could hear the sounds of horses on the road. Was it her imagination? So many times over the past few days she’d heard that sound, and it had never materialized into a true threat.
She turned back to the men left in her care and to Eppy who stood beside the table looking very worried. How many arrows did they have left? How much gunpowder and shot? Who could wield a weapon?
Besides Craig, there were Max, the stump of his leg healing cleanly, and three other men. One whose name she was yet to learn—he’d suffered some sort of brain injury upon the field and couldn’t remember who he was. She suspected his fever—which had lasted for nearly a sennight—might also have had something to do with it. The two others were in similar shape to Craig, with bullet and bayonet wounds that were nearly healed but did not allow for swift travel. Without a wagon, it was going to be difficult to get them out of here. They still had two horses, but with seven of them, there would be several who had to walk.
“The nights will be cold if we dinna find shelter,” she told the men. “Pack an extra blanket, and put a packet of jerky in everyone’s roll. And in case we are…attacked or separated, keep going. Dinna stop.”
The men worked to gather up their things, and she did her part, putting as much of her supplies as would fit into a bag she could carry on her back. They’d not be able to take everything without better transport options, but between her and Eppy, they had enough.
“My lady.” Craig came before her, his face intense, brows drawn. Why was he being so formal?
“Aye?”
“Go. Take Eppy, take the horses, and run. I will be certain to get the men to safety.”
Annie shook her head, uncertain she’d heard him correctly. Did he honestly think she was just going to leave them all here without her? Leave him here? “What? Nay, I canna allow ye to do that. I will no’ leave all of ye to be caught.”
Craig pressed his lips together in frustration and took her shoulders in his grasp, ducking his head to look her in the eye. “Annie, ye’ll be arrested for harboring fugitives. ’Tis madness. I canna allow it.”
Annie scoffed, growing quite tired of all the men in her life telling her what she could and couldn’t do. She brushed his hands away and stood tall. “Do ye forget that I too am a fugitive already for what I’ve done? Do ye think me incompetent?”
Craig shook his head vehemently. “Nay, ’tis no’ that. Ye’re the smartest woman I know. But we will slow ye down. Ye have a chance to be saved, and ye’re being stubborn about it.”
Had he heard the confession she’d so quietly made to Fiona about how they would slow her down and that was why Annie refused to go with her? God, she hoped he hadn’t.
“I willna ask ye to understand my decision, but I will ask that ye respect it. I have spent years putting my life on the line for those who fight for a better Scotland. I’m no’ going to stop now.”
He pressed his lips firmly together, considering what she’d said. “I do respect ye.”
“Thank ye.” She turned to the men in the cottage. “They are coming. We will head to Skye.”
“Wait,” Craig said. “I have an idea.”
“What? We must leave.” Annie started to gather items.
“Fiona said we should go to the Isle of Skye, but that is clear across the country and too arduous a trip for some of the men. We are closer to your castle. The men will be safe there. As it is burned down already, the dragoons will not bother with it again. They will think no one is there.”
Annie started to shake her head. But she knew he had a point. And there had to be someone near her castle who would aid them.
“At the verra least it allows us time to get a wagon,” he added.
“Aye, ye’re right.”
“There are seven of us, including ye and Eppy,” Craig said. “That is too many in a party if the men are on our backs now.”
“So what are ye saying, that we should split up?” Annie shook her head. “That is also too dangerous. And my castle is at least a day’s hard ride from here, but we are most of us on foot. That means four or five days. We canna wait that long.”
“If I may.” Max rose, using a long staff that he’d carved from a fallen branch to hobble toward them. “My family’s home is no’ far from here, a quarter of an hour’s ride. We could make it there on foot in an hour or less.”
“We couldna put your family in danger,” Annie said, shaking her head. “We’ll attempt the journey to Skye.”
“They would help us,” Max insisted. “At least give us a safe place to rest for the night and a few horses. We need horses to make the journey to Skye.”
Annie didn’t like the idea of putting Max’s family in danger, but the only other option was to seek hospitality from strangers or camp out in the woods. There was no guarantee they’d find anyone, and being out in the open left them vulnerable not only to dragoons but also to the elements. The April nights were still bitter and freezing, and lighting a fire in the woods was like a beacon calling enemies to their location. Though the men were all on the mend, they were still in a weakened state and could be brought down by something as simple as a frost.
“All right, then. Let us go to your family.”
Annie opened the door to the cottage and quickly shut it again, her heart pounding and bile rising in her throat. She muttered an expletive before realizing that every man in the cottage had likely heard her. They were too late. The sound of horses was loud and clear, though she could not yet see them. “They approach,” she whispered in a panic. “I can hear them on the road.”
Craig peered out the window. “They are no’ yet in sight. We must hurry. Everyone out, and to the rear of the cottage, to keep our retreat hidden. I’ll fetch the horses.”
Max led the string of men out, Eppy at the end of the five. Craig ran to the barn with Annie on his heels.
“What are ye doing?” he demanded, grabbing two bridles off the wall.
“Helping.” She took one of the bridles from him, and they quickly tugged them over the horses’ heads. “Go.”
They’d just barely skirted the building when the dragoons were pounding on the front door. Had they spotted them?
“Run,” she mouthed silently, helping to shove Max onto a horse with Eppy behind him. Two of the other men leaped onto the other horse, taking off toward the woods and crossing the creek with Annie, Craig, and the unnamed soldier on their heels.
Highlanders were trained to be silent, but she feared in their weakened state they would have trouble doing so now. She need not have worried, however. They were quiet, even as they splashed through the shallow water of the burn, and she concentrated all of her own energy into remaining as quiet as possible as they raced across the fields toward the forest. The safety of the trees would cloak them, should any dragoon happen to look out a window.
At any moment Annie expected to hear the firing of a pistol at their backs, to feel the agony as a bullet ripped into her skin. Crashes and bangs echoed on the moors, likely the cottage being ransacked for the supplies they’d had to leave behind. When they reached the other side of the narrow flowing burn, she turned around and peered through the tree branches long enough to see that they’d lit the cottage roof on fire. Annie refused to imagine what would have happened had they not made it out in time, though her mind kept trying to go there.
A dozen dragoons on horseback circled the cottage, one of them staring hard at the field where they’d been only moments before. Could he see the path they’d taken? See the lines of trampled grass? Distinguish their shapes in the woods beyond?
“We need to keep going,” Craig urged, brushing his fingers on her arm. “They will come this way if they are smart.”
“Let us no’ flatter the bastards,” Annie said.
Craig smirked and took her hand in his as they fled.
Despite missing part of his leg, Max was making good progress. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as he learned how to ride, holding onto the horse with his thighs. The effort for him was extreme, she could tell, and she was glad that he had Eppy at his back to help him.
“We’re no’ yet followed. We can slow down if anyone needs to,” she offered, not singling him out. Every one of them refused, Max being the first to deny her suggestion.
After a quarter hour of speeding through the forest, Annie insisted they stop. Not because she couldn’t keep going, but because she truly did fear for the men on foot. Craig and the unnamed soldier had been running to keep up. They’d all been on their deathbeds not two weeks before, and now were fleeing for their lives. Would this never end?
They stood in a tight circle, panting, staring at the forest behind them. The next bit of their journey was going to see them out in the open again. The unnamed soldier leaned against one of the horses, sweat dripping down his face, which was growing paler by the moment.
“This is your fault.”
Annie jerked her head up to see Paul pointing his finger at the nameless man. He blanched, lips twisting in horror.
“Nay.”
“Aye, ye’re the reason they came. Admit it! Ye’re one of them, and they’ve been looking for ye.”
“Paul, please,” Annie said. “He’s no’ a spy or a redcoat. When I found him, he was among the Scots, his clothes those of a rebel.”
“Then why does he no’ remember his own name?”
“Because he had a head injury,” Annie said. “Sometimes that happens to a man.”
“’Haps he willna remember us leaving him here then.” Paul hobbled toward the nameless soldier.
The man held up his hands, which trembled, and Annie feared his knees would buckle at any moment.
Craig came to stand between the two men. Paul looked ready to push his fist through the unnamed soldier’s gut, and if he’d had a pistol in his hand, he’d likely have fired it, too.
“Paul, we are all allies here. We canna start fighting amongst ourselves. We canna lose sight of what needs to be done—getting the hell out of here.”
Paul seethed, his teeth bared, looking more like a rabid animal than a worried soldier.
“I’ve been trying to remember,” the soldier said. Fingers at his temples, he slapped his head, and Annie winced. “But nothing is fucking working.” The last of his words were said in a frustrated shout.
“Give yourself time,” Annie said soothingly. “And the rest of us will be patient with ye, too.” She pointedly looked to Paul and then slid her glance to Max, whose face was pinched, but he kept silent.
The men had long suspected him of being a spy, but she didn’t believe it. She knew what she’d seen when she’d found him on the field; the other men didn’t. And they were likely to be suspicious of a squirrel if it showed up wearing red.
“I’ll hold off on killing him for now,” Paul muttered.
And Annie had to take that as a win, for she wasn’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, nor did she have time.
Annie passed around an old water canteen she’d found stashed on a shelf in the cottage. They all drank thirstily from the vessel, draining it completely. Hopefully they would come across a spring soon so that she could refill it, else the journey would become even harder.
Again they were off, Craig taking her hand in his. She didn’t know who was leading whom anymore. He seemed to be passing his strength to her, which was utterly wrong, given he was the one with battle wounds still healing.
The sun was fully risen now, and they were in full view of anyone who might happen to look over the field and see them running. Annie longed for the cover of the woods or the cover of darkness, something that would make them less vulnerable. She wasn’t certain if her heart pounded harder from running or from the fear that the dragoons would catch up with them.
When next they stopped, it was at a thinly trickling burn. The men dropped to their knees, Eppy helping Max dismount, and they all drank greedily, water dripping down their chins and wetting the fronts of their clothes. Still panting, Annie filled the canteen once more.
“How much farther?” she asked Max.
“We are close.” He pointed to the mountain in the distance. “Just there.”
Annie nodded, staring into the distant rise of land. Mountains always appeared closer than they were. They could be a mile away or five.
“How are ye holding up?” she asked each of her patients, checking their bandages. Only Paul had any blood seeping from his wounds, but it was a minimal amount.
“We can rest a little longer,” she said.
Paul shook his head. “Nay. The sooner we are there, the better. ’Tis only a wee bit of blood, my lady. There was a whole lot more of it there before, aye?”
There was. He’d been shot not only in the hip but in the ribs and was fortunate that none of his innards had been destroyed.
“Aye,” she agreed.
She checked Max, finding that the place where the end of his knee rubbed against the horse was irritated. She frowned, reached under her gown, and ripped a long strip from her underskirt, binding an extra bit around the amputated end. “Ye’ll toughen up in no time, and riding will be easy again.”
His face colored slightly, but he inclined his head, his expression grateful. “Thank ye, Doc.”
Annie grinned. “Ye’re a lot stronger than I think anyone gives ye credit for.”
“I’m the youngest of six brothers,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve always had to keep up.”
Last she approached the unnamed warrior, whose coloring had improved. He eyed her warily, eyes like those of a cornered animal. “I’ll no’ let anyone hurt ye,” she whispered as she checked his head. “Ye’ve a friend in me.”
He didn’t reply.
Less than a quarter hour later they were greeted at Max’s home by the end of a long smoking gun, the bullet fired from it landing about six feet in front of them as a warning. Hauled up short, Annie squinted into the distance to see who’d fired.
Fortunately, Max shouted, “Ho, there, brother. Would ye kill me when the bastards didna get the chance?”
A shouted curse was the reply, followed quickly by “Ma, Da! Max is home!”
“’Tis my brother, Jed Gair,” Max said, dismounting with Eppy’s help. The unnamed soldier handed Max back his staff, and he hobbled forward to embrace Jed, who lumbered toward them.
If the gun was their way of greeting, Annie could only assume the dragoons must have come by more than once already.
“Where the hell have ye been? We thought ye dead.” Max’s brother grappled him up in a bear hug, forcing Max to drop the staff that held him upright as he was crushed into his brother’s embrace.
“It was a near thing, but Doctor Annie saved me.”
Jed faced her, tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank ye for saving my wee brother.”
“Ye’re welcome,” Annie said, so many other words tumbling through her mind that didn’t quite make it past her lips.
Three other hulking Highlanders greeted them on the doorstep, and waiting inside was a tiny woman whom Max greeted as his mother. It was shocking to consider that she might have been able to birth those large lads, but given the size of her husband, it made more sense.
“We’ll no’ be long,” Annie said. “And we’ll leave if ye ask us to. The cottage where I was tending the lads after the battle was found out by dragoons.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the shut door. “They could have followed us here, though we tried to stay hidden.”
“Nonsense,” said Mr. Gair. “We’ll no’ be letting the bastards get to ye. And what kind of thanks would we be giving if we took our Max and thrust the lot of ye out?”
He ruffled Max’s hair like he was a lad of twelve, which only made the color rise in the young man’s cheeks all the more. Annie sucked in a breath, trying to hide her visceral reaction to this family reunion. Sadness had a way of seeping in, though, and she ducked her gaze to hide her quickly tearing eyes. She missed her brothers so much, and Graham… His life had needlessly been cut short. Anger replaced grief, drying up her tears. She shuddered, squeezed her eyes shut, hands clenching to fists at her sides. Craig brushed his fingers surreptitiously against hers, giving her the bolstering support she needed to face the happy family.
“Thank ye so verra much,” she managed, forcing a smile that quickly became genuine. She couldn’t begrudge them their happiness or their reunion. This was what her calling was, after all—to keep men alive.
“What do ye need from us?” Mrs. Gair asked. “We are happy to help.”
“Besides a place to stay the night? Some boiling water and clean rags if ye have them. I need to tend to the men’s injuries before we settle in and make sure that Paul’s wound has no’ opened more than it appeared on the road.”
“Here, come with me.” Max’s mother led them to a chamber off the side of the main room, where there was a bed, a wardrobe, and a small table.
“We canna take your bedchamber,” Annie protested.
“’Tis fine. There’s been more than one night that I’ve bedded down with my husband before the hearth, and today will be no different.”
“Ye have no idea how much this means to us. Ye have saved lives, madam.”
The older woman colored in her cheeks. “I would do anything for my lads, and to know ye saved one of them, it is the least I could do to provide ye a night’s shelter.” Tears brightened the woman’s eyes, and she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Thank ye.”
Annie nodded, trying not to get choked up herself. Mrs. Gair ducked out of the room, and Annie let out a ragged breath, grasping the bedpost and leaning against it for a minute to get ahold of herself.
“Are ye all right?” Eppy stopped on the threshold, linens draped over one arm and a pot of hot water grasped in the other.
“Aye.” Annie forced another smile and waved her maid in. “Are there coals in the water to keep it warm?”
“Aye.”
“Good.” Annie took off her satchel, pulling out the healing supplies she’d stuffed inside. Emotions needed to be set aside, and the work needed to begin.
One by one the men came in to have their wounds examined and cleaned and fresh salves put on them. They were a battered group, but none too much worse for the wear. As usual, Craig came last. When he entered the room Eppy left it, almost as if she were trying to give them privacy.
The wound on his head was healing nicely, the skin having grown back together in a puckered, pink, jagged line.
“I can probably remove the stitches soon,” she said. “A few more days is all ye need.”
She dabbed a salve onto the wound and then re-bandaged it. He reached for her hand, engulfing her palm with his own long, strong fingers. Every time he touched her, no matter the circumstance, a buzz of excitement washed through her. When this was over, when he was back with his men and she was following the prince’s camp, Annie was certain she’d never be the same again. No one else had the power to make her still. She was a bundle of energy, constantly moving, but when he touched her, that need to rush about turned to calm, and she felt like she could breathe.
“How are ye holding up?” Craig’s voice was soft, his eyes full of concern as he studied her.
With so much going on, Annie hadn’t given herself time to think about her own situation. And she didn’t really want to. The moment she started to think about herself was the moment that she might break down.
“I’m well,” she lied, shifting on her feet at how uncomfortable it felt to tell him anything less than the truth.
Craig raised a brow, clearly knowing that was a falsehood.
Annie huffed a breath. “I’m alive,” she added, which wasn’t a lie at all.
“That is true, and we must all be grateful for that.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles, and she bit her lip to keep in a sigh.
“Aye.” Annie let go of his hand, needing to put some distance between them, even if it was only an inch. They were alone in this back chamber together, and thoughts of kissing him were quickly invading her mind again, if only to steal a few moments of that bliss she’d felt by their smoking pit. Alas, kissing was not meant to be. Not now. She cleared her throat. “Take off your shirt and coat,” she ordered.
Craig’s eyes widened slightly at that, a slow, wolfish grin curling his lips. “Och, my lady…” he teased with a wiggle of his brow.
Annie rolled her eyes, realizing too late what her request might have implied. “Ye know I seek to tend your wounds, no’ to woo ye.”
“I confess I prefer the latter.”
She laughed softly. “Dinna all men?” Didn’t she?
Craig took his time removing the jacket and shirt. “I’d fight off any man who tried to woo ye, lass.”
“What if I wanted them to?”
His eyes darkened, as if he’d not thought of that possibility, and she could tell he didn’t like it. Craig reached up and tucked an errant lock of her hair behind her ear, smoothing his knuckles over her cheek, pausing right at the corner of her mouth. “Do ye want another man?”
God, nay! She wanted him…desperately. Annie shook her head, finding it hard to breathe. Hard to think. “I’ve no’ time for that.”
He grinned, said softly, seductively, “There’s always time for kissing.”
Och, but she felt light-headed. What she wouldn’t give to collapse right then onto this very convenient bed and let him kiss her until they were both breathless. Let him show her all there was to be enjoyed between a man and a woman. Pleasure, endless, glorious pleasure—for that was what the look in Craig’s gaze promised. Infinite bliss. Long, languid days of entangled limbs and nothing else.
Annie faked a cough that she hoped would snap them both out of whatever it was they’d been drawn into. “Are ye feeling sore?” She used her most nurse-like, no-nonsense voice.
That seductive grin still tipped the edges of his mouth. “Nay. Just savoring the time I have with ye.”
She didn’t know whether to believe that line or not, so she did the next best thing, which was to ignore it, else she fall limp into his lap. Ignoring his words might have been possible, but disregarding the expanse of muscled chest in front of her… Heavens. No naked torso had ever been so riveting. Her hands itched to stroke over the ridges and plains. To touch his flat nipples and see if they perked like hers did.
Utterly shameful, she was. She was not at all behaving like a woman in her position should. She was a healer, lauded by Prince Charles himself as one of the best in her field, and yet the sight of Craig’s rippling chest and belly, the slope and coils of his shoulders, had her breath catching and her mind going back to those moments by the smoke pit when he’d kissed her. When he’d pressed his chest to her breasts. What would if feel like for her to press her naked breasts against all that muscled flesh?
“Is it bad, Doc?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone bringing her back to the present.
“What?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Ye’re staring. I fear ye willna touch me because I’ve taken a turn for the worse.”
Annie shook her head, forcing herself back to the task at hand. Heat flamed her face. “Nay, I was…I was simply somewhere else.”
Craig cocked his head. “Where?” The way mischief danced in his blue-green eyes, she could tell he had an idea of exactly where she’d been.
Annie jutted her chin. “A lady doesna have to divulge her mind if she is no’ so inclined.”
“Is that a fact?” The wicked grin grew by a factor of two.
Annie wanted to roll her eyes at herself. She was not that type of lady. In fact, she was so used to working with soldiers over the years and having grown up with two brothers that she was more often blunt than subtle.
“Hush,” she scolded, peeling back the bandage at his torso. The wound in his gut was healing even better than the one on his head. It had taken her hours to dig out the bullet and fragments and then sew the wound tightly closed. “I could remove these stitches now, but I fear with more of our running, it might be too soon. Another day or two.” She took a clean cloth and washed the star-shaped scar. “Ye were lucky this one didna puncture any of your organs. I found the bullet resting just beside one, as though teasing whether or no’ it would go in all the way.”
Annie rubbed a salve on the wound and placed a clean bandage over it.
“How do ye feel?” She knelt on the bed beside him to look at the wound on his shoulder blade. “Incredible,” she murmured.
“I’m alive.” He repeated the words she’d used before.
“And I think we can all just be grateful for that right now, aye?” She rinsed the wound with a wet cloth.
He nodded, sitting still as she administered more salve. But when she went to move away, to clean up the supplies, he took her hand in his again. She paused, one knee still on the bed, very aware of how close she was.
“Do ye know how brave ye are, lass?”
“I’m no’ brave.” She planted both feet on the floor but didn’t let go of his hand. “I merely do my duty. I can tell ye that more times than no’ I’ve been scared so much my knees knocked together and my teeth chattered as though I’d been left outside in a winter blizzard.”
“Being brave doesna mean being without fear, lass.”
She stilled, his words washing over her. “Are ye scared?”
“Sometimes.”
Annie smiled. “I never would have guessed that would be your answer, Lieutenant.”
“I learned a long time ago that fear in the face of danger can often be an ally.”
She cocked her head at his cryptic statement, watching him intently. The muscle at the side of his face flexed, the only sign that he wasn’t completely calm.
“What happened to make ye so scared?” Absently, Annie sat down on the bed beside him.
Craig chuckled. “Do ye think it possible to use the same line as a lady and say a soldier doesna divulge his mind if he is no’ so inclined?”
“Of course.” She shrugged, making to pull away, but he tugged her closer, and the heat of his body made the chill she felt in her limbs warm some.
“But I find myself wanting to share with ye, lass.”
And a very large part of her longed to hear his innermost thoughts, to know what went on in his mind. Who was Craig MacLean, and what was it about him that drew her so?
“I want to hear,” she said, suppressing a shiver. They’d run for hours, and despite the exertion keeping her heated as they moved, now that her body was cooling and the sweat still clung to her skin, she was finding herself chilled. That was one excuse for her shiver. The other, well…
“Ye’re cold.” Craig’s touch went from her hands up to her arms and back down again, sliding over her in a way that was soothing and warming all at once.
Annie sighed. “Much better. Thank ye.” But she wasn’t much better. Every inch of her prickled with anticipation and want.
“’Tis my pleasure, lass.”
The way he said pleasure had her staring at his lips, distracting her once more, but she did want to hear about his times of fear. Was he distracting her on purpose? Perhaps he wasn’t ready to share that information with her. Should she leave? Should she go back to the others? The thought of leaving this room to go sit in the main room as they waited throughout the day for night to fall sounded dreadful.
Craig chuckled softly and pushed the sleeve of her shirt up over her arm until he could see the scar from where he’d stitched her up. Cool air touched her exposed skin. It was no longer as pink as it had been, though not nearly white yet, either. He rubbed his thumb gently over the scar, and gooseflesh rose on her arm.
“Before I was your healer, ye were mine,” she teased.
“How many more do ye think your wee cat has tormented in your absence?”
“Dozens, I’m certain. We will likely have to fight her for a place to sleep when we rebuild.”
He chuckled, deep and throaty, bringing her hands to his lips where he gently kissed them. As gentle as that kiss was, it sent a rioting shiver throughout her body.
“Still cold?” he teased, though he had to know that the reason for her shiver had nothing to do with being chilled.
“Aye,” she lied.
“We’re going to get out of this alive, Annie,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I promised Graham.”