Page 73 of His Secret Highland Bride

“Take me to Bess’s cottage.”

“She will be at the castle. We must take ye there.”

Shane shook his head and hoped he could hold on long enough to speak clearly so his wishes were heard. “Take me to her cottage and bring her to me. If ye are wrong and I die, I don’t want to do it at the castle in front of my people.” In front of Lindsay.

“Aye, laird. If that’s where ye wish to go, I’ll see you there.”

He remembered something else he needed to tell his men. “Send word to Ronan that we have prevailed so he doesn’t worry.”

“I will see it done, brother.”

Shane must have faded, for Alec leaned over to pat his cheek painfully.

“But know this—you will not be leaving any of us. I have no wish to be laird. Do ye hear me?”

Shane attempted to nod, but his head felt too heavy to move. He had no desire to leave anyone, especially Lindsay. But he couldn’t fight the need to close his eyes and let the quiet darkness draw him in.

…

Lindsay had known no greater fear than seeing the war chief jump off the back of a wagon at Bess’s cottage. Another man close to his size stood with him, but there was no sign of her husband. That must mean… Were they coming to tell her he’d…

Nay. They didn’t know she was there. As they got closer, she picked up on part of their conversation through the open window.

“…that blighter nicked Shane in the back like a coward,” the large war chief was saying.

“Aye, but the bastard got what he should. His body missing his head,” the other man responded with a grin as if something was amusing. “Did ye see how I did it, Alec?”

She’d known the war chief’s name was Alec—her husband’s younger brother—but somehow hearing it said while he was there made him less intimidating. A man instead of the monster she’d thought him before. And when his lips tipped up in a smile, she was almost shocked he was capable of such a thing.

Certainly, they wouldn’t speak like this with smiles on their faces if Shane had been mortally wounded. “Where is he?” She looked between the men and the wagon as she rushed out to meet them.

Alec glared at her, and she remembered why she’d thought him frightening.

“What the bloody hell are ye doing here? You’re to be up at the castle. Where are your guards?”

“We were left behind as we were gathering supplies to tend to any wounds. We are fine, and I have two injured MacColls inside that will need to be taken up to the castle.”

“Bloody hell,” the man repeated. “Shane told us to bring him here and fetch Bess to stitch him up.”

“Bring him inside,” she said, though her voice sounded far away as they lifted Shane from the wagon. Dizziness caused her to sway and blink. Alec grasped her upper arms and gave her a tiny shake to drive it away.

“Don’t worry, lass. He’s one for dramatics when he’s injured. He’ll not die today. I’ve seen the way a man looks when death comes for him, and Shane will live. I swear it.”

She shook off the lightheadedness and nodded. “Quickly. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I need to see him myself.”

He nodded. “Aye.”

The dog followed him as Alec carried her husband into the cottage. His legs dragged behind them in the dirt. Alec held a bundle of bloody rags to his back.

“He’s bleeding like a stuck pig,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it was a common thing. Perhaps for men of war it was. Would Shane have acted as casually had it been one of the other men bleeding?

She thought of Maria and wondered if the woman had been as cavalier, having seen the efforts of war every day. Lindsay said a little prayer to the other woman. Please, help me save him.

“He’ll be fine,” Alec said again.

Lindsay knew a man only had so much blood to let before there was no more. But a man could also die without a drop spent if the bleeding occurred beneath the skin. She set to work with Bess at her side, while the other men argued about the severity of her husband’s wound and what to do with the sleeping MacColls.

She cleaned the wound and began stitching up the gash so the bleeding would stop. She paused a moment when her hands trembled.