Highland Sanctuary (17 page)

She slipped an arm around Cara, while Serena assisted from the other side to help lift her. Evelina tilted the cup to her lips. Cara sipped and swallowed. She laid her head back against the feather pillow.

"Thank ye." Her voice sounded weak. She tried to smile, but one corner of her lips remained still. "I know yer brews. At least I'll sleep well tonight."

Voices outside signaled that Tomas and Gavin had returned. A horse neighed and snorted. They knocked. Serena swung open the door. Tomas stepped in and strode over to Cara. Serena leaned outside, peeking to see Gavin tugging on a rope around a chest on the wagon.

"Gavin, won't ye come in?" Serena couldn't imagine what he was doing. Was he leaving now that he had delivered Tomas to them? Her heart pounded as she tried to think of how to encourage him to stay. "Yer supplies will be fine. Ye must be tired from the day's travels. Come inside, rest, and take refreshment. Surely ye'd like to hear what Tomas has to say about Cara?"

"Aye, I would, but I brought ye something back." He sighed. "I suppose now would be a bad time to bring it in. Don't know what I was thinkin', lass. Please forgive me."

His blue eyes met hers. A soft wind graced her cheek as a tremor pooled in the pit of her stomach and flooded her heart. Gavin MacKenzie was an honorable man, if only their circumstances were different. An aching pang braided inside her.

"Nay." She shook her head. "An apology isn't necessary. We're all feeling out of sorts."

"In that case, I shall join ye, then." Gavin met her at the threshold. Ducking inside, he stepped into a dark corner. Serena closed the door and slid the bolt in place. Gavin may be lurking in the shadows, but Serena was well aware of his presence as she stepped to the foot of the bed.

Having him near gave her strength and comfort. While she knew she should draw such security from the Lord, would it be wrong to rely on Gavin if God had brought him here for this purpose?

"I don't believe ye've any broken ribs. Merely bruised is all," Tomas said. "No doubt, ye'll be sore for a few days. Serena did a fine job cleaning all the wounds. Yer hands and arms took another beating from the limbs and briars ye ran through."

"What about her head?" Serena asked. "She complained of a headache when she first arrived." Serena helped Cara sip more of her mother's brew.

"Nay." Tomas pulled the blanket up to Cara's neck and tucked her in like a wee child. "No swelling or lumps that I could tell. Her pupils look fine." He paused, looking down at Cara. "With some rest, Cara, ye'll be right back to yer auld self again. The main thing ye'll need to overcome is the fright ye've had. It can make ye fearful of things ye weren't before. Only God and time can heal ye of that."

"Thank ye." Cara yawned, her eyes drifting closed. A few seconds later they fluttered open again as if she fought to stay awake.

"Yer brew is working, Mither," Serena whispered.

"I can . . . still hear ye," Cara murmured, her weary eyes shutting.

Soon, her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Serena sighed, satisfied her friend would now sleep easy. She returned to her discarded sewing.

"Gavin and Tomas, please join us by the fire." Evelina said. "Would ye like somethin' to drink?"

Tomas took a seat at the table. Gavin's heavy boots pressed against the hard dirt floor as he sat opposite from Tomas.

"Nay," Tomas said. "But I'd like to know what ye gave her. It didn't take an immediate effect, but when it did, the brew worked well."

Evelina smiled, her cheeks a rosy glow from the praise. "I put a wee pinch of chamomile in some warm milk and honey."

"Ah, that explains it." Tomas nodded, folding his hands upon the table.

Gunna's head rolled back against her chair. She started snoring. Serena was torn between concern at her increasing naps and mirth. She grinned. "Mither, should I wake her before she falls?"

"Nay, she'll be fine. Of late, Gunna has perfected her talent of sleeping in awkward positions without mishap."

"And what are ye working on, Serena?" Tomas dropped his elbows on his knees. "Looks quite involved."

"I'm altering a gown for the laird's feast." Serena shook out the folds and held it up, proud of her handiwork. "I'm sewing in a lace border here." She pointed to the neckline.

"But I thought ye didn't have aught to mend." Gavin's tone sounded more like a protest as his back straightened and his chin lifted in speculation, his dark eyes assessing her.

Serena lowered the gown, feeling a sudden censure from Gavin. "I didn't misspeak ye, if that's what ye're thinking." Her throat went dry at the sudden change in his behavior.

"Gavin, the most wonderful thing happened," Evelina interrupted, walking over to the chests and opening the large one. "Ye know how Serena worried she didn't have a decent gown for the laird's feast? Well, the laird had these delivered from the castle yestereve. Both chests are filled with bolts of fabric, lace, satin and a few gowns like the one Serena is altering. He said she's to make herself a gown fit for the feast— a couple if she wants. Then she's free to give the rest to Kyla for other lasses in the village."

"I daresay, that's verra considerate of him." Tomas moved to the edge of his chair and angled to view Gavin. "Wouldn't ye say so, lad?"

"Aye, I would." Gavin stared at the chest as if it might burst into flames. He glanced at the empty table, preoccupied with his thoughts.

"Not only that," Evelina said, linking her fingers, excitement shining in her eyes and smile. "But the laird requested Serena save him a dance."

"I must be going." A chair scraped across the floor. Gavin stood with force. The wooden seat swayed on two legs. He grabbed the back before it could fall. Gavin cleared his throat. "Allow me to offer my earnest congratulations to the happy news."

"Ye're leaving so soon?" Serena bolted to her feet, crumpling the gown in her fists. Searching for a reason to detain him, Serena remembered what he had said outside. "What about the gift on the wagon?"

"Gift?" His blue eyes darkened as he gave her a direct look that resembled pain. He blinked and it was gone. Had she imagined it?

"Aye, ye mentioned something about a gift earlier." She nodded.

"Nay." He waved his hand. '''Tis naught of consequence. Mayhap, it should wait until Cara is awake to enjoy it as well."

"Verra well." Her hopes fell as she dropped her gaze, lest he see her disappointment that it wasn't something special for her.

"By the looks of it, ye've plenty of gifts from Iain MacBraigh to keep ye busy for a while. Good night." He left, the door shutting behind him. Serena stood for several moments, trying to make sense of his words.

"Serena, I'm so sorry, lass." Mother sank in her chair by the fire with a dazed expression. "I didn't expect him to . . . react like that."

"Aye." Thomas nodded, sitting back and crossing his ankles. "I do believe the lad is jealous."

"Of Iain MacBraigh?" Serena couldn't believe it. She lowered herself down and took up her sewing again. "That's the most foolish idea I've ever heard. Either way, as my friend, he should be most happy for me. And think how glad the other village lasses will be to receive a new gown." She pulled her needle through the material with a snap. "Indeed, I'm most disappointed in Gavin."

He should have known better. Of course the laird intended to see to Serena's needs, especially since she was under his care. Now Gavin was stuck with a trunk of fabric he didn't need.

Hearing that Iain had asked Serena to save him a dance hadn't helped matters any. Gavin wasn't prepared to battle the assault of jealousy that consumed him, making him unable to think.

Anger, he understood. But jealousy? It didn't need sufficient motive. A simple dance could give rise to the unwanted feeling. Nor was there a target, as Iain MacBraigh had proven to be a good man . . . a friend. Serena deserved the best, all the happiness life could offer. If he truly cared for her, was it fair for him to get in the way?

Cracking twigs and branches caused Gavin to unsheathe his sword. He held the reins in his left hand and strained to listen through the dark over the rattling wagon. Movement shifted leaves and bushes at the right. The horse continued at the same pace, unaware. Had he mistaken a wild animal for a man?

His stomach churned in discomfort. The muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed as he braced for a blind ambush. The wheels rolled on beyond the trees and out into the open under the moon and stars where the loch glistened from the silver reflection. The burning camp fires among the tents were a welcome sight in contrast to the black woods. A chill in the air kept his men huddled around the flames.

"Gavin is back!" One of the lads hurried toward him. "Where's Craig?"

"Oh, there's much to tell, but first would ye secure the wagon and see to the horse?"

"Aye, but wait to tell the tale when I return." The lad reached up and held the animals while Gavin bounced to the ground.

"Where's Leith?"

"Over there." He pointed to the middle fire pit. "He has news for ye as well."

Gavin strode to his brother, greeting men along the way. Leith bent, warming his hands. He noticed Gavin and stood with a welcoming grin. "About time ye came back. I thought ye'd decided to take up residence in town." He leaned to the side peering around Gavin. "What happened to Craig?"

"He's fine, but first, I heard ye have some news," Gavin said.

"Iain MacBraigh has invited us to stay at the castle—you and I."

"What about the men?" When they had first arrived, Iain had offered a guest chamber to he and Leith, but Gavin had made it clear they would not depart from the men.

"He's offered a chamber to us and any men of rank, such as Craig and Roan. The rest may stay in the barracks inside the protection of the gate."

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, considering this latest event. "Do ye have any idea what might have changed his mind?"

"Nay." Leith shook his head. "But mayhap it has something to do with the upcoming feast." Leith shrugged. "If his guests are residing outside the protection of the castle . . . in tents, it wouldn't look verra good."

"True." Gavin stroked his chin. How would they continue providing protection to the villagers?

"I thanked the laird and told him we'd have a ready answer on the morrow. If ye remember, the barracks are in poor condition. We'd need to make them fit to sleep in. Still, it might prove to be better than the hard ground and a canvas tent. What do ye think?" Leith raised a dark eyebrow, the firelight glowing upon his face.

"I think the move would be sensible, but I don't want to lose the ability to protect the villagers. Mayhap, we could change shifts staying with Tomas."