Page 18 of Redemption

He didn’t reply and, for an instant, she feared he did blame her. Then the deep furrow of his brow registered. God forgive her, she was worrying about guilt while he was in pain. Helena laid a hand on his shoulder then eased him forward. She scooted behind him and reached to grasp the arrow, then realized she couldn’t hold it without the point cutting her. She scooped up several cloths, wrapped them around the point, then wrapped her hands around the base between the point and his back and levered herself.

“Are ye ready?” she asked.

He gave a tiny nod and she discerned the tensing of his back muscles. Without warning, she yanked. Kaden sucked in a loud breath as her shoulders collided with the wall. Blood flowed from his shoulder. Helena tossed aside the arrow. It clattered to the floor as she grabbed the rags and pressed them firmly against the wound in his chest, then seized his hand and jammed it against the cloths.

“Hold that,” she ordered.

Thankfully, he complied, and she pressed more clothes against the exit hole in his back. She picked up the whisky and poured some on the exit wound.

He sucked in another breath. “By God, Helena, that burns worse than when the arrow hit me.”

She could well imagine. She poured some on the front wound. This time, he only drew a sharp breath.

“Ye will need stitches,” she said.

He shook his head. “Tis too deep. Ye must burn it with the poker.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She’d forgotten about the poker. Helena look at the poker. The tip glowed red.

She swung her gaze back to Kaden. “I am no healer.”

He nodded, eyes dark with pain. “Never mind, lass. Bring me the poker. I will do it.”

Helena hesitated, then she said, “Lean against the wall. I want the cloths on your back to stay in place. He did as she said, and Helena got the poker and returned to the bed. Kaden pulled his leather belt from around his waist, then lifted a hand for the poker. His large hand trembled slightly.

She released a shuddering breath and shook her head. “I will do it.”

He gave her a gentle smile mingled with pain. “Ye dinnae have to, lass.”

“I do.” She nodded at the belt. “Bite down on the leather.”

He released a sigh, then fitted the belt to his mouth and bit down.

“On the count of three,” she said.

He nodded.

“One.” Helena positioned the poker over the wound on his chest. Two—

She jammed the poker against the wound.

He groaned and stiffened. Helena jerked, but he seized her hand and pressed the poker hard against the flesh.

Mother of Saints.

The smell of burnt flesh caused her stomach to roil. The wound had stopped bleeding.

He released her hand. “Now my back,” he said through teeth that still clenched the belt. “Hurry before the poker cools.”

This time, she didn’t flinch. Kaden tensed, but remained firm as she jammed the poker against the open wound on his back. When she finally pulled the poker away, the bleeding had stopped.

Kaden removed the leather from his mouth, and muttrered, “Christ Almighty.”

Relief flooded Helena. He would live.

She leaned the poker against the table near the bed and examined the exit wound. The flesh around the cauterized area had begun to bruise. That was normal. Helena turned him so that she could examine the wound on his chest. The flesh was more badly torn than the exit wound but had closed nicely.

She released a shaky breath and began wiping blood from his chest. “Who were our attackers?”