Page 10 of A Highlander’s Heart

“It sounds like yer patient is going to be leaving here feet first.”

Emma felt her eyes widen and she drew herself up. “Nay. I willna let my patient die.”

Jemima shrugged. “These things are in the hands of the Lord lass, ye ken that.”

Aye, she did know that and so far she had never lost a patient whom she had treated. A few had arrived ready to die after some battles, but never once after she’d taken a patient into her care.

“Emma, Jemima said ye need help?” A lad’s voice sounded in the doorway. Her requested assistant had arrived. Emma didn’t turn to look at him, but remained focused on her patient.

“Aye, thank ye for coming Enoch. What ye can do for me now is bring me some honey from the kitchen which I dinna ken I was out of here.”

“Honey?”

“Aye. Once I finish sewing the mon up, I will smear some on his wound which will help it heal.”

Shaking his head, the lad left while Emma continued to study the newly sewed gash. The wound was a mess, and she would need to do a lot of work to get him on the path to good health.

Enoch returned with the honey and watched Emma for a while. “I would like to train as a healer one day.”

Emma turned to peer at him. “Yes, ye have followed me around before and I could use the help. I had a helper, but she married and moved into her husband’s bothy. They have a large farm that belongs to her husband’s family that they are very busy with.”

“If I can get Jemima’s permission could I train with ye even though I’m no’ a lass?”

“I doona see any reason why no’. There is a legend of a mon from one of the Highland clans who is much in demand, his healing skills being remarkable.” She looked again at Morgan’s leg. “I think ye would have a better chance if I ask the laird.”

Enoch’s eyes grew wide. “Aye. Would ye do that?”

“As I said, I could use the help, and no one has shown any interest in healing.”

Emma knew the lad to be responsible and caring. If she could get the laird’s permission, the lad would make a very good healer and helper for her. Even though he didn’t know whether or not he’d be allowed to be her helper, Enoch watched her carefully. She hoped she could get Daniel’s permission for the lad to train with her.

It occurred to her that at fourteen years, Enoch was the same age that Emma had been when she had started her work as a healer, training under her Aunt Janet, who’d only passed away a couple of years before.

She turned to the lad. “’Tis glad I would be to have ye helping me because I will no longer need to ask for a warrior to help me with my patients when they are big and heavy and I can’t move them without causing more damage.”

Her point was proven when, with Enoch’s help, she could move Morgan to his back. Emma tried to get her patient to drink the tisane, but since he was still not completely conscious, it only dribbled down his chest.

Since Enoch had not yet been given permission to work with her, he returned to the kitchen until she could ask Daniel about allowing the lad to work with her.

Not long after he left, a soft moan and movement drew her attention to where Morgan lay. She walked over to his bed and rested her hand on his forehead. She frowned. He was growing very hot, and she needed to get his body’s temperature down.

She stopped someone passing by the hut to get Enoch and ask him to get cold creek water for her, and then she returned to the healing hut, where she dipped a clean linen into the cooled water on the counter from before, and began to wipe Morgan’s hot skin. Despite the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin, she truly did try very hard not to admire his handsome face and full lips—when they weren’t snarling at her.

She shook herself. She needed to stop this. He was the enemy of her clan that had just attacked them.

And a member of the clan that killed her da.

So—she felt an attraction. Nothing would come of it.

Taking a deep sigh, she smoothed the wet cloth over the hot skin at the back of his neck. The healer in her admitted that just wiping his face was not going to do as much as it would if he had most of his clothing off.

Her heart gave a couple of extra beats at that thought.

Nay, he was a patient and she the healer. Also, she’d done things like this many times before. She stiffened and adopting her professional demeanor, told herself this would not be a problem.

Since his plaid had already been removed when he’d first arrived, she now pushed his filthy, mud-splattered léine up, making sure his bottom remained covered with a wool blanket that he had attempted to kick off as his fever rose. She then gently wiped his hot limbs and torso down, rewetting the cloth when his skin warmed it up.

His cold creek water arrived, and she asked Enoch to help her remove the dirty léine from him and replace it with one of the clean ones she kept in the chest in her hut for just such occasions.