Highland Escape - Cathy MacRae Page 0,72

Before he could reach her, she completed her spin and drove both swords into his chest.

Anna lingered only a moment before racing to Duncan’s side. Though still conscious, he had lost a lot of blood—too much. Quickly assessing the others, she discovered Liam had a deep gash on his thigh, and Rory a gash across his chest. Ross bled from a number of small head and leg wounds. Iain and Malcolm, though nicked up, remained mostly uninjured.

Then she saw Donnan, a bolt protruding from his chest, his eyes unseeing. She closed her eyes briefly then turned back to Duncan.

The bolt in his leg did not go all the way through, but the one in his shoulder did. She snapped off the tip and pushed it through as Malcolm put pressure on the front and back of his shoulder with bandages retrieved from the wagon. With Iain holding Duncan’s leg firmly, Malcolm removed the bolt. Anna pressed the wound to staunch the bleeding, earning a growl of pain from Duncan. A warm, furry body pressed against her and Anna glanced up in surprise. Trean flattened himself on the ground at her side, muzzle on his paws, eyes intent.

“Keep out of the way, Trean,” she warned. Seeming to understand her, he wiggled his body once, then was still, though his eyes followed her every move.

Hands shaking, Anna made a poultice of yarrow and rose bark to stop the bleeding, mixing in clove and plantain to ward off infection. She allowed her healing skills to take over, pushing her emotions away. She told herself she treated a fallen warrior, not her future husband. Cleaning both wounds with the whisky Iain produced, she then applied the compound to the wounds, binding them tightly.

Moving to Liam and Rory, she stitched them both. Liam flinched each time her rounded needle darted in and out of his torn flesh, and he pulled hard on the flask of whisky. Rory lay unconscious, a blessing, as his chest wound went to the bone. Ross’s wounds proved shallow and easiest to treat.

Iain, Malcolm and Anna discussed their options. They agreed the men should not be moved for at least a day. They dared not risk further reducing their numbers by sending someone for help. Home remained roughly a day’s ride away.

Iain and Malcolm allowed Anna to treat a couple of smaller wounds she did not initially detect, needing only a few stitches between them. The fact she bore no wound only infuriated her further, creating a deeper sense of guilt. She started a cook fire while Iain and Malcolm searched the fallen. They collected what could be of use, then piled the bodies a furlong away downwind to burn.

A heap of retrieved weapons lay stacked in the wagon when they finished. Included in the haul were eighteen saddled horses picketed a few yards from the ambush site.

Iain approached. “I found these on Alain. Thought ye might know where they came from.”

He dropped a bag of silver coins, along with a note allowing safe passage for the bearer, in her lap. The seal on the note was unmistakable. The Earl of Northumberland. Her gut clenched to have her suspicions confirmed. The man had made several attempts in the past on behalf of his son for her hand. Now he offered payment for her capture. With this information, Anna knew in her bones he was the one who ordered the attack on her home, the one who had ordered her family killed. She stowed the items away for further consideration, pushing her thoughts only to the health of Duncan and his men.

Duncan was in obvious pain. Trean had moved his allegiance to Duncan, his small body tucked tight against the man’s side, Duncan’s hand fisted in the plush coat. Anna checked the dressings. The bleeding had halted in both wounds, though she knew movement could tear them open again. The real threat would be infection and fever. The men needed time to heal, but sitting here left them exposed.

As the men completed their chores, Iain stood by Anna’s side while she stirred a pot of stew and brewed a large batch of medicated tea for the wounded.

No tea could ease her pain. Restless, she checked on Rory, still lying unconscious on the back of the wagon, and made Duncan as comfortable as possible. Malcolm took the first watch while Anna stayed by Duncan’s side, absently stroking Trean’s soft fur. She placed her swords on the ground within easy reach, in case of