Chapter Eight
The regiment left well before dawn. Heather nearly wept with regret since she had no’ wished Geoffrey God’s speed. And yes, to kiss him. She would simply have to greet him with that kiss upon his return. She knew Royce regretted leaving Ahna so close to her time of confinement, but hopefully, he would be back in time.
After several days of perfecting her walking, she knew she had to reciprocate. She knew he was a clever wood worker, yet he had not only helped with her special elevated soles’ creation, but had designed them. His caring and consideration, as much as his effort, touched her more deeply than anything else had in her entire life. How could she ever show her heartfelt appreciation? She would come up with something he would treasure.
He drove her crazy. Kisses one minute, annoyance the next. Yet, she had fallen in love with the gruff, arrogant, tender-loving, confusing mon. What would she do? Her jumbled thoughts made her head spin.
As she added the final touches to the mural and reworked one of the horse’s tails, it came to her. She would paint a portrait of Darktonian. She knew his profile, his coloring to perfection. She would start it on the morrow. Geoffrey could put it on the back wall of Darktonian’s stall or in his room set aside from the other men.
• ♥ •
A fortnight later with the ground covered with an inch or two of fresh snow, the men returned. Heather heard the cheer, grabbed her cloak, fastening it on the run, and joined Ahna in the middle of the courtyard. As the regiment drew near, Heather noted Geoffrey was no’ alongside Royce. Further back, Darktonian hobbled slowly, being led by Rodney. A warrior lay upon a litter being pulled by Alan’s horse. Heather trembled from head to toe, her breath leaving her. She wanted to scream. Nothing would come out.
Ahna hugged her. “’Twill be all right. Take a deep breath.” Only when Ahna loosened her hold did she gasp. She felt her legs give way. Ahna let her slide slowly to the ground.
Before she had time to wail, Royce rushed to her side. He squatted down and clasped her hands. “He lives, Heather. He is badly injured, and lost much blood, but he is breathing well and the bleeding has stopped.” She just stared at him. “He lives. He needs you to be strong, to nurse him back to health. Can you do that?”
Two lone tears rolled down her cheeks. She gasped, then nodded. “A…Aye.”
“Good. Let me help you up before you are soaked clear through to your skin. Ahna will take you inside to get a bed ready for him.” When he had her standing, he embraced her. He winked at Ahna over Heather’s shoulder. “With our help and prayers, he will be well soon.”
When she nodded, he released her. “Good girl.” He then embraced Ahna, giving her kiss for all to witness. “We will put him the room at the end of the hall, past Heather’s.”
• ♥ •
The next week was long and busy, scary and joyous.
Geoffrey tossed and turned, mumbled and flinched throughout the days and nights, taking only forced sips of broth mixed with Tessa’s healing herbs at frequent intervals. After Ahna had reassured Heather no one would think less of her if she remained by Geoffrey’s bedside, she slept on a thin pallet. He had no’ awakened at all. After three days, his fever subsided. Three warriors had been killed; five others had been wounded, but were healing well.
Royce was happy to be home, pleased the battle had been a success as the Cunninghams had finally complied, and ecstatic with his two-week-old son. Heather said prayers every day for all.
Ahna had delivered a healthy, chubby baby boy with a wisp of auburn hair, striking green eyes, and a good set of lungs when hungry. He was perfect. Ahna wore a perpetual smile. So did the very proud papa of Alexander.
When others were caring for Geoffrey, Ahna visited Darktonian, fussed over Alex, or painted the portrait of the horse. It was now finished. The canvas had been pulled taut over the wooden rectangular frame. It would be up to Geoffrey to make a lovely crafted frame to showcase it. She would enjoy seeing his reaction.
• ♥ •
Heather once again swabbed most of Geoffrey’s body with a cool, wet cloth, carefully keeping the sheet over his midsection. Bertha, Tessa, and others took on the more intimate tasks of his care, thank the good Lord.
She marveled at the corded muscles on his hairy legs, the steeled, broad chest with the soft, curly hairs, and his bulging arms. He was so very masculine, so beautiful. She smiled as she peered at his handsome face. She scowled at part of the bandage she could see wrapped around the top portion of his thigh. He had been verra lucky.
Royce had told her Geoffrey had been swinging his sword when he turned Darktonian sideways. The horse had stepped into a foot-deep hole and Geoffrey had tipped in the saddle. The enemy’s sword had sliced his upper thigh, even through the mail. The horse had the will and strength to pull his leg out just in time; otherwise both would have had mortal wounds. Darktonian had a badly pulled muscle, but Royce felt he would heal well. Heather would feed that horse all the apples he wanted from now on.
On the ninth day, Geoffrey woke and had no’ stopped mumbling and cussing since. It seemed no one could do anything right. He was worse than a caged bear. She thought she could understand his disgruntled attitude. Maybe. He would soon be well after he healed and gained strength in the leg. She tried to tell him exactly that. The glares he sent her way convinced her to not talk about it.
Every time she fussed over him, his face turned red, or he would mutter things under his breath she was glad she could no’ hear clearly. He needed something to make him smile, to think about—other than his leg. She would present him with the gift. He would have to smile at that.
• ♥ •
While Tessa redressed Geoffrey’s wound and exercised his leg, then several of the men had visited, she stopped to talk with Ahna and coo to Alexander, then fetched her present. She held it so it faced her to prevent him from seeing it as she approached his bed.
He was propped up on several pillows with the blanket kicked off. He wore loose fitting braise, and remained bare-chested. She tried not to ogle him as he watched her come to his side. His expression had no’ changed from being dour. So much for the company boosting his spirits. She could only hope he would like her gift.
“I hope ye had a nice visit with yur friends,” she said cheerfully, hoping to put him a better mood.
“They are the men I command.”
She wanted to remind him most were indeed friends, but she was no’ about to argue the point.
“I want ye to know how verra much I appreciate yur gift, both the shoes and the boots. I can walk so much better, and I can even do it fairly fast. Like a slow run.”
He looked embarrassed. He nodded.
“It did no’ seem much of a thank ye simply to say the words, so I thought what I could do for ye to show my appreciation. I have a little something I hope ye will like. It might go nice in Darktonian’s stall, or in yur room.”
She took a few steps back, turned the portrait around, then held it up higher so he could view it better.
He studied it, his eyes taking in every inch as they roamed from corner to corner. “I heard you were an expert, and I was looking forward to seeing your mural, but this is remarkable. You are truly gifted. He looks like he is going to walk out of the picture. I do not know what to say.”
Their gazes met and held. She smiled. “I think a thank ye be more than plenty. I hope ye will like my gift to ye as much as I love mine.”
“Thank you.”
“Yur verra welcome.” She walked across the room and set portrait on top of a chest and propped it against the wall. When she turned back, she found him staring at her. “Now, how about we try a few more steps than ye did yesterday?” She flashed him another smile as she picked up the cane.
“Do not coddle me, Heather. I am not a child to be pampered. I am a leader of men. I am a warrior, and that is all I know. I have no idea if I will ever be able to do my job again. I have always protected women, but they are and never will be a necessity in my life. I certainly have never wanted one to hover over me, nag me, and expect more than I am willing to give.”
She stood ramrod straight. He most likely needed to get all this off his chest. But she had no’ expected to hear this defeated attitude. Of course, he would return to captain the men! Most likely, he would walk without any ill effects from his injury. And if he truly did no’ want any more to do with her…God’s truth she loved him, and had been praying someday he would come to love her. The realization of that never happening near sent her to her knees.
Dreams be simply dreams, fickle dreams, not reality. He had called her foolish when they first met. She be indeed the biggest fool of all. He liked to touch her, to kiss her, and she had read more into it than he be capable of giving.
Aye, he be a warrior, trained to protect and serve. His whole life was combat. How could she expect him to show consideration, tenderness, worry? Those emotions were buried deep within him. She could no’ expect him to pull them from the deep recesses where he had buried them as a child, if he indeed ever had them, and bring them to the surface like a buoy cast upon the seas for all to see. Head held high, her shoulders back and straight, she crossed the room, opened the door and turned around.
“I will no’ ever be coming back to bother ye. I wish ye well in your healing.” His eyes grew round, his expression unreadable. Brokenhearted, she spun around and closed the door behind her. The onslaught of tears streamed down her face. There be no holding them back, so she did no’ even try. She had to stand still to catch her breath before she continued walking.
Did he truly love her? He knew he loved to touch her, whether it only was to guide her, with his palm pressed lightly, but securely, at the back of her waist, cradle her elbow, or handholding. He loved her kisses.
He was not worthy of her if he could not defend her, provide for her. For years, he had held himself back from any relationship, and now, he wondered if the best thing in his life had just walked out that door. What had he done? He held her heart, and knew it. What was he to do? He did not want to live his life without her. She believed in goodness in all those around her, had a vitality of life as if she were on a joyful journey. He realized he wanted to travel that journey with her. He wanted to continue smiling, and seeing her smile. He longed to laugh along with her.
“Hell!” he muttered. He grabbed the cane, hobbled across the room and threw the door wide. She was at the far end of the hall. He would have to yell before she went down the stairway.
“You are the best thing in my life,” he bellowed. He watched her stop, her back straight as an arrow. “You are sunshine to my gloom. I am stubborn. I am an imbecile. I love you, Heather Douglas. I think I have since I first met you.”
She turned, and even before she had tracked back halfway, he could see her wet, reddened face. Her tears tore at his heart, twisted and pulled within it.
When she reached him, she looked at him. She did not smile and that tore at his heart more. Had he hurt her so much that he had lost her? He quickly said a please God to have it not so.
“Do ye truly mean it?” Her wary gaze met his as if searching for the truth. He longed to see her bright smile.
“Yes, love. I truly mean it. I fought the truth since meeting you. And when I became injured, my stubborn mind told me I might not ever be the same man I had been and I would no longer be able to protect you or provide for you. I convinced myself to push you away. Can you forgive me for wounding you with such harsh words?”
“One fool and one imbecile should do verra well together should they no’?” She smiled, and he smiled back.
“I love ye, too, Geoffrey Eton. So verra, verra much. With all me heart and soul. And aye, I can forgive ye as long as ye will love me forever. But if ye ever have strong doubts or troubles that haunt ye in the future, ye must promise to share them with me, no’ hold them inside to fester. Can ye do that?” She touched his cheek with her fingers and gave him a light kiss upon his lips.
“I promise.”
“I thanked ye for yur gift of my shoes, but the gift of yur love be truly so much more. Words donna begin to express me love for ye. I can only show ye by loving ye equally in return. And cherish yer gift of love forever.”
“And you, my lovely lady, are very gentle, tender-hearted, soft, sweet, more than appealing and are so alluring my senses go wild.” Her smile did resemble bright sunshine.
When he placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, she leaned into him further.
“I love you, Geoffrey, with all my heart. I hope ye will always remember that. But I surely wish ye be a Scots,” she whispered against his chest.
He shivered. “What? Why, for God’s sake?”
“Ye are a giant of a mon, and I knew ye be well-built and well-muscled. But when I be washing yer legs and chest, I admired yur body and could only imagine ye in a plaid. Ye would be a bonnie sight to see, ye would.” They laughed together and hugged.
“Do not ever think I will wear one.” He shivered again.
She giggled. “I would never try to change ye. I love ye just the way ye be, English and all.”
He lightly gave her a smack on her backside. Then, his hand roamed across that backside until she squirmed and moaned like a contented kitten.
“What say you to a Yuletide wedding? Will you marry me, and make me the happiest of men?”
“Ye know I love children. Can we make a playmate for Royce’s and Ahna’s child?”
“We can make a whole army of playmates if you like,” he said with a grin.
“I think I would like that.”
His complete surrender to her should have had him railing against being so vulnerable. Yet, he felt as if he had just conquered the world. Nothing could be more wonderful or moving. He had never known such joy or total contentment.
She thought she was the lucky one to receive his gift, but he had the gift of her love and that was more than he had ever dared to wish for. He was one very happy man.
• ♥ •
THE GIFT is a sequel to THE CHALICE which was included in Prairie Rose Publications’ 2016 anthology ONE WINTER KNIGHT. If you enjoyed reading THE GIFT, then you may want to grab a copy of ONE WINTER KNIGHT to read about the upheaval Ahna and Royce faced before finally finding true love. Plus there are seven other fantastic stories by other authors you won’t want to miss! Happy Reading, and wishing you a Very Happy Yuletide.