Page 6

“I took Beitris as an apprentice, she helps—” His aunt lifted her hand.

“The lass is married now, once she and Liam have bairns, then what? Ye must find a new apprentice. And not a woman, but a man.”

His aunt was right, and it wasn’t that he didn’t wish to do it, but so far he’d not found anyone interested in apprenticing to be a healer.

Once he’d eaten his fill, Camden stood and yawned, unable to stifle it. “I best go so that Anne can go on about her day.”

His aunt gave him two loaves of bread and a bowl of stew for him to warm up later. “Give one of these warm loaves to Anne,” his aunt instructed.

Instead of entering through the front, Camden entered through the side door so that he could place his food on the table. Then he walked to the adjoining door and stopped at hearing the sound of soft humming.

Inside the room, the man, Brae, looked to be crying. Anne was leaning over him, holding his hand between both of hers, humming softly to comfort him.

Chapter Two

Her heart broke as she hummed into the injured man’s ear. Upon entering Anne had not expected to see such a severely injured man. His face was grossly disfigured, with purple bruises covering it almost entirely. The poor fellow’s eyes were swollen shut, the top of his head was bandaged, and there was an angry gash that had been stitched shut on the left side of his jaw. There was little doubt he would remain scarred and perhaps even maimed by the looks of his splinted arm.

“I’ll give him more tincture for the pain,” Camden said, startling her. “There is little else that can be done to aid his pain and healing.”

Anne turned to see that Camden had already turned away and was pouring something into a small wooden bowl. He moved with graceful efficiency, reaching for this and that from the many shelves that were replete with bottles and sacks of powders and herbs. Every once in a while he hesitated before choosing, head bent in concentration.

As she watched, she couldn’t help but admire the broadness of his back, and although his hair was disheveled, it fell to his shoulders in a tumble of red waves.

Once he’d gathered what he needed, she watched as he sprinkled a greenish powder into the liquid in the bowl. He then mixed it with quick practiced movements. His eyes met hers for a moment as he neared the sick man’s bed.

“Lift his head,” he instructed, his voice quiet but firm. Carefully as she could, Anne cradled the man’s head. Lifting it just enough so that he could drink.

Camden brought the bowl to the man’s lips and helped him drink. “This will help with the pain. I also have some broth for ye to take. Ye must have something.”

His green gaze lifted to her’s and for an instant Anne found it hard to meet Camden’s eyes. She’d been at the apothecary many times, getting his advice for what to do when caring for several village elderly, but for some reason today it was as if her nerves were on edge. Everything felt stark. Vivid. As if she saw things through different eyes.

“Would ye mind helping me?” Camden asked. “Just for a few moments. I cannae wait for Beitris as I am nae sure when she plans to come.”

“Of course,” Anne said, looking past him to where her satchel lay on a chair. She didn’t have any plans for the day, other than cooking some simple meals, which she’d deliver to two elderly women later that day.

When Camden left to go into his living area, she looked to the injured man noting a tear trail from the corner of his swollen eye down his temple. The fat tear plopped onto the bedding.

“The pain will go away soon. I promise.” Unsure what she could do to soothe him, she began talking. “It is cold out this morning. The village square is quieter than usual. I believe many are hesitant to leave the warmth of their homes. Soon spring will warm the land, and it will become quite lively.”

He was silent, giving her hope she’d distracted him. “I am nae sure if ye ken old lady Agnes. She lives outside the village. Never well-liked. She has always been cruel and unkind. Now she finds herself alone and too infirm to take care of herself. I visit her often. To bathe her, comb her hair, and bring her a meal,” Anne chuckled. “She remains unkind, only speaks to tell me what she dislikes. Some days it is the way I comb her hair, other times, she finds displeasure in the food.”

The man murmured something that sounded as if he did ken the elderly woman, or at least that’s what Anne thought. She continued telling him about the old woman until Camden reappeared.

Together they fed the man, who she learned was called Brae. She was familiar with who he was but refrained from saying anything to Camden.

“Ye dinnae have to remain,” Camden said when they’d finished feeding Brae, and she had wiped his face carefully.

Anne shook her head. Gathering the soup bowl and spoon she took water from the bucket by the door and cleaned them, then tossed the dirty water out the door. When she placed the cleaned items on a nearby surface, she felt Camden watching her.

For whatever reason, she became nervous; her hands trembled slightly. She’d not had a proper meal, and it was already late morning. That had to be why.

“I best go,” she said and motioned to the door.

Understanding spread on Camden’s face. “I will walk ye out. He took her satchel and carried it out the door. Anne walked past him, noting how much taller and broader he was than her. For such a large man, he moved with grace, was gentle with his patients, and from what she’d heard he rarely had a cross word with anyone.

As she walked past him, once again something strange happened, a shiver ran down her spine. She turned to look up at him, and he gave her a quizzical look.

“I feel…” Anne felt silly; her mouth had acted independently of her mind. “I feel a need to tell ye,” she improvised. “I ken of Brae and his family. They are the ones who live past the hills to the east. Ye ken the ones whose father was killed by the raiders. He is the youngest son of that family. I would say perhaps ten and eight or nine.”