Chapter Nineteen

 

Fear for Kristina's life driving him forward, Colin dashed to the edge of the ravine where the waterfall plummeted downward. A small brown wooden boat lay splintered on the giant rocks. "God's blood!" His stomach aching with dread, Colin clambered and slid down the snowy embankment, his friends following.

"Kristina!" He waded into the icy water up to his thighs, his eyes scanning the rocky area for any sign of her. He saw nothing, no broken bodies, no clothing. But she could be underneath the water or already washed downstream.

Dear God, nay!

Even though the river wasn't in spate, a hard rain had fallen a few nights ago, and the water roared where it crashed onto the rocks. The rushing current would be strong enough to wash away any sign of her in minutes. He stared downstream, unsure whether to go farther southwest and look for her there or search here. Hell, he couldn't even think. Fear for her life had him near paralyzed.

Two of the MacKenzie clansmen shouted from the cliff above them on the opposite side of the river. They waved and yelled but Colin could not understand their words amid the thunderous waterfall. They motioned for them to come. Had they found Kristina?

Please, God, let her be all right.

Colin and the rest of the men climbed the bank.

"We found sign of horses in the wood," one man shouted, then pointed to a copse of trees about thirty yards away.

"Thank God." Colin leapt into his saddle. The others followed suit and they all carefully rode across the river at a wide, shallow point.

Once they were away from the noisy falls, 'twas easier to hear the MacKenzie clansman.

"First, we noticed the disturbed weeds and grass beside the river, then we followed the footprints through the snow to the wood, where we found tracks of four or five horses and piles of dung."

On horseback, they dashed toward the wood. After drawing up abruptly, Colin leapt off the horse.

'Twas true, the black dirt and leaves were kicked up. The men had tried to cover the horse dung with leaves and pine needles, but it hadn't worked. They must have been in a hurry. "Looks like the horses were held here for a few hours," Colin said.

Cyrus nodded.

"The horses ate here." Ralston pointed at the short-cropped grass at the edge of the wood where the snow had been nosed aside.

"Do you think 'twas Holme's men?" Cyrus asked.

"Aye. Let's follow them." Colin mounted again.

They trailed the tracks from the wood onto a narrow, muddy wagon road between hills, then increased their speed to a gallop. They couldn't be far behind Holme and his men, maybe a half hour.

He prayed Kristina was alive. But what if Holme had already injured her again, like last time?

 

***

 

Gripping the bridle in one hand and Kristina with the other, Red Holme kicked the horse into a full gallop along the muddy road flecked with small patches of snow. The wriggling lass was still wrapped in the sooty canvas and lying across his lap. He'd heard men's shouts behind them at the river. The Camerons were giving chase, damn them! He'd hoped they would all be burned to ash by now, or at least delayed by the crashed boat in the river.

Holme had to take Kristina farther away. If he could get her back to Stirling, she would be much easier to hide at a run-down inn on the outskirts. He was friends with one of the proprietors who would not report him for keeping a lass against her will. He grinned. Then he could enjoy her under him for days. But they were still a few days' ride from there.

At the moment, Holme and his men were coming upon a whitewashed stone kirk and a wee village too small to hide in. Anyone who saw them here might give the Camerons information.

Abruptly, Holme's horse slipped in the mud and snow, stumbled and careened onto his side, falling and tossing Holme and Kristina to the ground.

"Damnation!" Holme roared, pain blasting through his left knee. He hoped it wasn't broken.

Although his knee had struck a rock at the side of the road, Kristina had broken most of his fall.

His four men turned and cantered their horses back. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Dobson asked.

Holme cursed again and pushed himself to his feet. He limped forward, testing out his knee strength. He'd have a large bruise, no doubt. "I'll live," he grumbled. "Catch the horse and see if he's injured," he ordered. After falling, the horse had bounded to his hooves again and trotted several yards away.

Scroggie caught Holme's horse and led it back, then examined the horse's hooves. "He's thrown a shoe."

"God's blood! We don't have time for this! The Camerons are on our tail. I'll take your horse, Scroggie. You hide and, once the Camerons are gone, take my horse to the farrier in the village, there. Then, meet us in Stirling in a day or two."

Frowning, Scroggie nodded.

Dobson stood staring at the canvas the lass was wrapped in. "Is she still alive?"

"Aye, of course. Why do you ask?"

"She hasn't moved or made a sound."

Holme limped toward her, remembering she had broken his fall from the horse. She was a fragile little thing. He hoped she hadn't broken her neck, because he did want to have some fun with her. He unrolled her from the canvas and turned her onto her back, finding she wore naught but a soot-stained white smock she'd obviously slept in the night before. It conformed enticingly to her every curve. Her pale skin was smudged as well. Her beautiful blond hair was unbound and tangled about her shoulders. He saw no blood upon her but she lay unmoving, as limp as a wet rag, her eyes closed.

"Kristina?" Holme nudged her with his foot. She did not respond. Was she dead?

Annoyance and regret punched at him. Hell, he didn't know why he liked her so much. She was not a strong enough woman for him. No doubt a bedding from him would kill her, if she wasn't already dead.

Grunting at the pains shooting through his knee, he crouched next to her and placed his finger beneath her nose. In the cool morning air, he felt a slight stirring and warmth coming from her nostrils. "She's breathing. She was injured in the fall. That's all." That made him feel a mite better.

"Horses!" Dobson yelled as he stared in the direction they'd come from, his agitated gelding stamping about.

Holme heard the distant sound of hooves pounding the earth, growing closer and closer. "Hell! 'Tis the Camerons." They had not come into view yet.

Holme cursed, picked up Kristina and tossed her over his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his knee, he trotted with her toward the kirk, the closest structure in the area. "Take the horses into the wood behind the kirk!" he yelled to his men. "Then, scatter and circle back around. Kill every Cameron you see! They'll never suspect I'm in the kirk."

He opened the door, went in and closed it. He placed Kristina onto the wooden floor, then dragged a heavy oak shelf laden with items in front of the door.

He drew his sword, fury and the need for revenge quickening his blood. Kristina might be near death, but he forced himself not to care. His main concern was Colin Cameron. "If 'tis him, he's a dead man," Holme growled.

 

***

 

As Colin and his search party rode around the bend, a man was running on foot, leading two horses around the back of a kirk toward the wood.

Colin veered off the road onto the snow-covered area near a small stream. Hooves had torn up the snow, grass and black dirt. Some sort of soot-blackened canvas lay on the ground.

Colin leapt from the horse before it even stopped, placed the targe upon his forearm and drew his sword and dirk. He ran behind the kirk, his friends following, their boots pounding the earth.

Four men, leading five horses, headed into the wood.

"Halt!" Colin ordered. "Or we'll fill you with arrows!"

Releasing the horses, the men stopped and spun around, their swords and targes drawn and ready for battle.

Colin halted, his gaze running over them. He thought two of them looked familiar but didn't know their names.

"Where is Lady Kristina?" he demanded. "And Red Holme?"

The men's faces paled, for they obviously realized they were greatly outnumbered. One by one, they dropped their swords and dirks.

"Where did he take Lady Kristina?" Colin shouted, glancing behind them and farther along into the wood, but seeing no one.

"The door of the kirk is blocked." Ralston yelled behind him. "I tried it."

"He's inside," Colin growled. "Tie them up." He hastened to the front of the kirk with Ralston. Bryce and a few more followed.

Colin beat on the heavy oak door. "Open the door, Holme! Do you think God and the kirk is going to protect you now? After you've done so many evil deeds?"

"Go to hell!" Holme shouted from inside.

Colin ground his teeth. "Give me Lady Kristina unharmed and I won't kill you."

"Ha! Come in alone and see if you can take her from me. Coward!"

"I'll be glad to! Open the door." Battle lust surging, Colin was ready to run the man through.

"Tell your other men to back away, or I'll kill her now!" Holme shouted.

Colin glanced around at Ralston and Bryce. Could Holme see them through the small glass windows?

"I'll slip around back to see if I can crawl in a window," Bryce breathed.

Colin nodded.

Weapons drawn, Ralston and the MacKenzies slipped farther along beside the church, out of sight, in the event Holme opened the door.

"I'm alone now!" Colin called out. "Open the door and fight me, man to man."

Scraping sounded, as if a large piece of furniture was being dragged across the wooden floor, then the door inched open. The building was dark inside.

He had no inkling what sort of weapons Holme had. The bastard could shoot him with an arrow for all he knew. Colin moved to the side of the door, so he would be out of the line of sight and lifted his targe and sword.

"Welcome, Cameron! Come on in," Holme taunted.

Why did this feel like a trap? He glanced back and met Ralston's gaze. He stood about ten feet away now. Looking intense, Ralston nodded.

Colin assumed that meant the young man who claimed to be Kristina's brother would be his backup. If everything he'd said was true, naturally he would want to rescue his sister. He had never done anything to cause Colin to mistrust him.

Colin turned his attention back to the open door and yelled, "Kristina?"

Inside, Holme laughed. "She cannot answer you. She's knocked out cold. Nearly dead. You'll have to hurry if you intend to save her life."

Dear God, nay! Fear and rage infused Colin's veins. As he took a step to charge through the door, someone yanked him back, sending him stumbling off kilter, and bypassed him.

"Damnation, Ralston," Colin growled low.

The younger man was already charging through the door, sword, targe and dirk in hand. Colin dashed after him.

Inside the building, swords clanged and the two men grunted and growled curses. A high, open shelf containing several items sat to Colin's right. Holme stood behind it. Ralston struck out powerfully, and his blade stabbed into Holme's shoulder. Face still covered in soot, Holme roared in pain and sliced his blade across Ralston's thigh. Ralston stumbled backward and fell.

"Holme!" Colin shouted, trying to take his attention from the younger man so he wouldn't deal a killing blow.

Blood ran from Holme's sword hand. Baring his teeth, he shrank back behind the shelf.

Before Colin could wonder what his strategy was, a blade slashed between the shelves toward Colin's gut. He brought his targe down just in time to block the sword's tip. Putting his shoulder and whole weight behind it, he shoved the targe against the heavy wooden shelf, toppling it onto Holme. The whoreson roared, his blade thrashing, but the shelf trapped him, constraining his movements. Colin positioned his sword and stabbed between the shelves, connecting with flesh. Holme shouted out in pain and fury. Colin further took advantage of Holme's trap of his own making, stabbing again and again until the man grew silent and still.

"I think he's dead," someone shouted. "I'll check him."

Pulling himself back from the intense battle rage, Colin glanced around to find Bryce behind him. Cyrus and Fraser knelt near Kristina, who lay unmoving on the floor. Her eyes were closed. Soot stained her white smock and pallid skin. Cold terror chilled Colin, and he dropped his weapons. "What the hell did he do to her?" He hastened toward her.

"She's alive," Cyrus said.

"Thank the saints." Colin fell to his knees beside her.

Fraser had already cut the gag off her and was now cutting the wrist bindings with his small sgian dubh.

Sitting nearby, Ralston muttered a curse through clenched teeth while two of the MacKenzie clansmen bound his bleeding thigh.

Colin turned his attention back to Kristina, worried that Holme had injured her terribly.

"To be knocked out like this, she must have a head injury, but I don't see one." Cyrus ran the tips of his fingers over Kristina's skull, beneath her hair. When he reached the back, he cursed.

"What is it?" Colin asked, an ache in the pit of his stomach.

"A large swollen knot on the back of her head." He withdrew his hand and looked at his fingers. "But no blood. Whatever hit her did not break the skin."

"I wager he had her rolled up in that damned sooty canvas I saw outside," Colin growled.

"Without doubt."

"Kristina?" Colin gently picked up her hand and ran his fingers over her arm to see if it was broken.

Cyrus felt along her other arm, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal her upper arm bent at an odd angle. "A broken arm. No telling what other injuries."

Colin cursed and ground his teeth, glaring back at Holme's bloody body beneath the shelf. "That bastard."

Using a sash, Cyrus bound her broken arm to her body to prevent further injury to it. "Do you want to check her legs to see if they're broken?"

"Aye," Colin said, praying they weren't.

"We must get her back to the castle quickly so the healers can help her. We'll make sure the horses are ready to go." Cyrus and Fraser left, while two of the MacKenzie clansmen helped Ralston limp outside.

"Can you bring the plaid blanket from behind my saddle?" Colin asked Bryce, the only man remaining.

"Aye." He hastened out the door.

Colin lifted the smock's hem and pressed his fingers along Kristina's cool, pale legs, finding no obvious broken bones or any other injuries, thank the saints. He drew her smock down again. He needed to get her wrapped up and warmed as soon as possible.

Bryce returned with the wool blanket.

"Her legs appear to be unharmed. I simply hope the ride back to the castle doesn't worsen her injuries."

"We'll have to be careful," Bryce said.

Colin felt as if his soul were rent in two as he carefully wrapped Kristina in the blanket, lifted her from the floor, and carried her outside. The other men rushed around him, dragging Holme's body from the kirk, rounding up the horses, and getting their prisoners ready to take back to Rhodie. Three Camerons would hang back to notify the local village and minister of what had happened in the kirk and help clean up.

Colin stood by his horse, looking down into Kristina's pale, impassive face. "Please, God, keep her alive," he whispered. "I love this lass more than life itself. I cannot live without her."

 

***

 

A half hour later, Colin and the search party arrived back at Rhodie. Thankfully, no more smoke trailed toward the sky, but the castle mattered little to him compared to Kristina. He simply hoped no one had been injured or killed.

Two of the MacKenzie clansmen had raced quickly back to the castle and notified everyone of what had happened, so the healers would be prepared for both Kristina and Ralston.

When Colin entered the bailey, Neacal waited near the entrance steps, ready to take Kristina from him. He frowned with concern. "She has not awakened?"

"Nay." Colin handed her down to him, then dismounted. "Was anyone hurt in the fire?"

"Naught serious."

Anna rushed down the steps toward them, tears in her eyes. "How is she?"

"Still knocked out from the blow to the back of her head. I'm taking her to my bedchamber. Can you tell Deidra we're here?"

"Aye," Anna said. "We'll be right up."

Colin took Kristina in his arms, carried her into the keep and upstairs to his room. The smoke scent was not as strong here, and a warm fire burned in the hearth. He gently laid her on the bed.

"Kristina?" he murmured.

When she still didn't respond, his gut knotted.

Anna, Deidra and her two helpers hurried into the chamber with their supplies.

"Her legs do not appear to be broken," Colin said. "But she might have other hidden injuries."

"We'll check her over." Deidra removed the blanket.

"I'll wait over here." Colin turned his back to stare out the window at the leaden, gray sky and snowy mountains.

He prayed they would find no other wounds. The head injury and broken arm were bad enough. The women worked quietly, murmuring amongst themselves for several minutes.

"The men said Holme was dead," Anna murmured at his elbow.

Colin glanced at her, nodding.

She blinked back tears. "What did he do to her? Beat her?"

"I have no inkling. But we figured he had her rolled up in a sooty canvas. He probably took her from the bedchamber in it. 'Twas lying beside the road."

"Did he toss her from the horse?" Anna's green eyes flashed with rage.

Imagining that, Colin's whole body ached and his fury flared again. "Knowing Holme, aye. Or, considering they were riding like the devil, she could've fallen off. Either way, 'tis most likely why her head wasn't bleeding—the canvas at least protected her in that way."

"I'm thankful to you that Holme can no longer hurt anyone else."

"Thank your brother also. Ralston shoved me aside and rushed in first. That's why he was injured."

Her eyes widened. "Good Lord. He must truly be our brother."

"I believe he is."

Anna moved back toward the bed, but knowing Kristina was still uncovered and likely unclothed, Colin did not turn.

"What have you discovered?" Anna asked.

"She has several new bruises that are starting to swell and turn violet, especially her shoulder and the upper part of her back on one side," Deidra reported. "But, thankfully, no cuts. And no more broken bones, besides her arm."

The absence of cuts was good news. Less chance of infection. But still, hearing about the bad bruising made Colin want to strangle Holme, even though the bastard no longer drew breath. How could any man treat the lass in such a horrific way?

"She wasn't—" Anna's voice caught. "The knave didn't force her, did he?"

"I saw no signs of rape," Deidra said.

Thank the saints for that. Colin hadn't seen any indications of rape either when he'd checked her legs earlier, but he was glad to have it confirmed by the healer.

"What about her ribs?" Anna asked.

"Let me see." Silence followed. "I don't feel any broken ones, but they could be cracked. I'll have to check them again when she wakes."

Colin closed his eyes, wishing he had been the one who'd sustained the injuries instead of Kristina. Although she was resilient and strong in spirit, she was physically too fragile to endure such rough handling. Still furious with Holme, he clenched his teeth.

"We have her covered now," Deidra said.

Inhaling a deep breath to dispel his anger, Colin turned around, again struck by her wan skin. "When do you think she will awaken?"

"Cannot say." Deidra frowned. "Hopefully this eve or tomorrow."

"What can I do to help?" Anna moved closer to the bed.

"Mix these herbs into a poultice. We'll put it on her head to reduce the swelling."

While Anna stirred dried herbs in a bowl, Deidra and her assistants set Kristina's arm.

Colin scowled, glad she was asleep for that, because the pain would be excruciating if she were awake. Still, he prayed she would awaken within the next hour or two, for it would bode well for her speedy recovery.

He paced from the window to the door, over and over, feeling helpless as he watched the healers work. He mentally urged Kristina to open her eyes, grimace or flutter an eyelash. Anything. But she lay motionless.

A strong, comforting hand clasped Colin's shoulder. He glanced aside to find Neacal standing next to him, looking troubled and solemn.

Colin wanted to thank him for being there but suddenly found his throat was too tight to speak.

"How is she?" Neacal asked.

"She is breathing well," Deidra said. "I'm thinking she simply needs time to rest and recuperate. Time for the swelling in her head to go down."

"Come," Neacal said to Colin. "I'll pour you a dram."

"Let me know if anything changes," Colin told the women.

"Aye, m'laird," Deidra said.

"I will stay by her side, too," Anna said.

Though Colin didn't want to, he followed Neacal from the room. He encountered his mother, who was getting ready to enter the room, along with a dozen other people waiting in the corridor, including Maili and Shamus.

"She hasn't awakened yet," he told them, then went into the solar with Neacal.

Colin closed the door but found no comfort in the room as he usually did. Stark fear and desolation permeated him. "Damnation, I cannot bear losing her, too."

"You're not going to lose her," Neacal stated firmly while he poured whisky into small glasses.

"I pray you're right."

Neacal handed Colin a glass, but there was no jovial toast this time. Colin tossed the amber liquid back and swallowed swiftly, the fiery liquid burning his throat. He needed it to dull the sharp pain in his soul. "How could this happen? Why? She recovers from her previous injuries, regains her eyesight and now this."

"Colin, she will recover. Have faith."

His chest felt constricted. "I cannot breathe without her."

"I ken it. 'Tis how I feel about Anna. Thankfully, she wasn't injured, but when Blackburn abducted Anna, I almost went mad with worry and fear for her life."

Colin nodded. "Kristina has already suffered too much, even before this."

"She is a resilient woman with a fierce spirit."

'Twas true and one of the things he loved about her. In fact, she possessed so many traits he loved, he could not recount them all.

"Did you resolve things with her?" Neacal asked.

Regret felt like a leaden weight upon Colin's shoulders. "Not yet. I talked to her briefly last night, and she apologized but…" Colin shook his head. "I was daft and did not let her know I forgive her and still want her to be my wife. I told her I couldn't trust her. Damnation! I cannot seem to make the right decisions."

Neacal scowled. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"If I'd forgiven her and spent the night with her, none of this would've happened."

"You had no inkling Holme was within the walls."

"But I should have." Colin poured himself another dram of whisky. Aye, a clan leader should know who was inside the walls of his castle.

"She will awaken soon, and you can tell her how you feel."

"But what if she awakens blind again? She'll never marry me then."

 

***

 

Colin sat alone by Kristina's bedside for the second night in a row, the low-burning hearth fire and a single candle the only light in the room. She had not moved. Instead, she lay on her side, limp, lifeless and pale. The sheet and blankets had been pulled up over her shoulder. Her broken, splinted arm was cradled on a pillow, while she lay on her unbruised shoulder. The healers determined this would be the best position for her, to take the pressure off her head injury.

When Deidra had changed out the poultice earlier, he'd seen the bruised and swollen knot on the back of her head. 'Twas an appalling shade of blue and purple within her blond curls, and it pained him to see it. At the moment, it was covered with a fresh herbal poultice and a linen cloth.

"Why did this happen?" he whispered.

Everything happened for a reason, the wise ones said. What was the purpose of this?

He didn't understand why suffering happened.

Remembering how his father had responded after he'd talked to him, Colin leaned forward, took the hand of Kristina's uninjured arm and kissed the back, then stroked her palm.

"Kristina, I don't ken whether you can hear me, but if you can… I need to tell you I'm here for you. I love you and I forgive you. More than anything, I want you to be my wife. If only you will wake up and recover, we will be married when you're able. That is… if you will have me."

She shifted restlessly and grimaced. Despite her obvious pain, joy and thankfulness filled him. 'Twas the first time she'd moved since her injury!

When she dropped still, he leaned closer, studying her face in the low light. "Kristina?"

She did not respond or move another muscle. Her face relaxed.

He stroked her palm and her fingertips. "I'm sorry you are hurting, my sweet."

No response.

"Are you awake?"

Nay, she was not, but the movement had to be a good sign.

Leaning back, he listened to her even, steady breaths, thanking God for each one.

Colin didn't realize he'd dropped off to sleep when he was startled awake by the sound of wood thumping against the floor.

He straightened, finding he still sat in the chair at Kristina's bedside. Dawn light glowed at the window. He swung his gaze toward the door, where someone stood.

"Ralston?"

The burly young man limped forward on a pair of ancient crutches. He stared at Kristina. "How is she?"

"Earlier, she moved a wee bit." Colin sat forward, taking her hand and stroking the palm, listening to her breathing. "Lady Kristina?" he murmured.

She did not move an eyelash.

Ralston shook his head, looking as worried as Colin felt. A sinking feeling latched onto his gut, but he was determined to be hopeful.

"How's your leg?" Colin asked.

"'Twill be fine soon, I'm thinking. Tavia is a good healer."

"I've not yet had an opportunity to tell you 'twas a rash and daft thing you did, shoving me out of the way and running into danger like that. 'Tis why you were injured."

Ralston shrugged. "I could nay let you get yourself killed, now could I?"

Colin frowned, wondering what exactly he'd meant by that. It sounded more like something his brother would say.

"I did it for Kristina," Ralston clarified. "She loves you, and if you were to get killed, she would be devastated. She came here to marry you, after all. I ken you love her, as well. You will always take care of her… far better than I ever could as her penniless half-brother." Ralston's expression was bleak but determined." I wasn't there for my sisters during their worst ordeals, when those two bastards were tormenting them, but I'm here now. I wish to make it up to them. I want to see them married to men who will treat them like queens."

Colin was shocked speechless for a long moment. "You're a good man, Ralston. I appreciate everything you've done to help Kristina… and me."

"I thank you, m'laird, and I was glad to help."

"Please, call me Colin."

"I would be honored." He bowed, then straightened and lifted a brow. "Will you be marrying my sister, then?"

"If she'll have me."

 

***

 

Kristina must have been dreaming, for she heard the most divinely beautiful music. Had she died and gone to heaven?

Nay, she recognized it now. 'Twas Anna's flute music. No one played the way she did. Kristina focused on it and imagined the lovely sounds saturating her body. On and on they went, swirling through her like glowing, spinning stars, touching every part of her being. 'Twas almost like an angelic healing power in the form of sounds.

She felt cocooned within the warm, downy embrace of two angels' wings, while pure unconditional love surrounded her. All pain disappeared from her body, and it seemed she was floating, suspended in the warm air.

The flute music stopped, but the love surrounding her remained.

And then she heard the whispered words in her ear, "I love you, Kristina. Please awaken and stay with me."

Who had said that? The deep voice was so familiar.

Colin!

Where was he? She wanted to tell him she loved him, too, but no words would emerge from her mouth. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift.

 

***

 

After playing another tune, Anna lowered her flute.

"'Twas the most beautiful music." Colin's mother sat in the chair by Kristina's bedside.

"I thank you."

Colin stood behind the chair. "I believe it will help her."

"I certainly hope so." Looking worried, Anna leaned over Kristina and kissed her forehead. "Rest well, sister. I will see you in the morn."

Colin bid her and Neacal good night as they left the chamber. After closing the door, he sat down in the chair beside his mother's.

"She is such a lovely, sweet lass, Colin," his mother whispered, then patted his hand. "You love her, do you not?"

His mother knew him too well. He'd never been able to hide anything from her.

"Aye. I wish to marry her, if only she will awaken and agree to it."

"Love matches are the best." His ma gave a bittersweet smile. "Although I didn't know your father before I married him—I had only seen him twice—I quickly grew to love him. And I thank God each day that I had a wonderful marriage to a good man. He was always kind to me and he made my life happy all these years. I wish the same for you."

"I believe Da approved of her."

Her eyes widened. "Did he say something?"

"One night while I was sitting by his bedside, I told him about her and the situation—how she'd been abused and injured. I didn't think he could hear me, but then he said love."

His mother drew in a quick breath, tears welling in her eyes. "He had not said a word since his injury," she whispered.

Colin nodded. "I think he meant that love was the most important thing when it comes to marriage. Not alliances or dowries."

"Of course. I knew him well after these many years. If he knew how you felt about her, he would approve of the match, especially with her being a chief's daughter and of your social station. Your da would wish you to be happy. Anna told me that Kristina was blind for two years and miraculously regained her sight a few days before arriving here."

"Aye. It happened after I left Bearach. When she was blind, I asked her to marry me and she refused, not wanting to be a burden to me."

"Oh my. She seems such a good and honorable lady."

Colin frowned, annoyed his mother would see Kristina's side more than his own. "Of course, but 'twas not enough of a reason to refuse me. Would you have refused to marry Da if you'd been blind?"

His mother considered for a moment. "Mayhap, but I would have regretted it if I could've known then what a wonderful marriage we would have. Lady Kristina does not wish to be selfish. She's a principled lady."

"Well, I think that was one reason she came here… to let me know she'd changed her mind and now wishes to marry me. Do you think the clan elders will approve?"

"I know not. But I will speak to them on your behalf."

 

***

 

Two nights later, Colin gazed down at the lovely sleeping lass who had so entangled his heart. She still had not awakened, though she had moved a few times, as well as frowning and grimacing. He prayed she was not in terrible pain and unable to let them know. Of course, there was naught they could do about it if she couldn't swallow the herbal tea.

The longer she remained knocked out, the more his stomach knotted with worry.

He picked up her hand and kissed her exposed palm. "Kristina, no matter what happens, I want you to know I love you," he murmured. "But please, I beg of you, remain with me. We can have a wonderful life together. I can easily see how bright our future will be."

Kristina's eyelids fluttered, and her mouth opened as if she might speak.

His heart drummed with excitement. Filled with expectation and hope, he stood and stroked her cheek. "Wake up and smile at me, beautiful Kristina."

Frowning, she opened her eyes a crack and tried to move her injured arm and turn onto her back. She cried out, and tears trailed from her eyes.

"Wait, Kristina." He tried to hold her in place. "You must lie still. Deidra! She's awake." He kissed Kristina's forehead. "Thanks be to God."

Deidra pushed herself up from the pallet by the fire and rushed to the bed, the kerchief on her head askew. "'Tis the miracle we've prayed for. How do you feel, m'lady?"

Eyes closed and face contorted, Kristina gritted her teeth.

"I believe her arm is giving her great pain. She tried to move it."

"I'll make some herbal tea with poppy." Deidra set about mixing herbs and pouring hot water.

"Colin?" Kristina's voice was weak and raspy.

Thrilled at hearing his name upon her lips, he leaned closer. "Aye, mo ghraidh. I'm here."

"My arm hurts. What happened?"

"'Twas broken. Just rest and don't try to lift it so the pain will ease. Deidra is making some tea for you."

"Aye," Kristina breathed, lying quietly but still frowning.

"How does your head feel?" he asked.

"Hurts, too," she whispered, then seemed to slip back to sleep.

Thank you, God, for bringing her back to me. Colin wanted to leap with joy but had to restrain himself. His eyes burned with unshed tears of gratitude. He swiped his sleeve across his eyes lest Kristina or Deidra see his emotion. Men weren't supposed to cry with happiness, were they? What difference did it make? He wanted to shout from the battlements, but that would wake everyone in the castle in the hours before dawn and terrify them.

Staring into Kristina's lovely face, he held her hand and kissed it again, though he wanted to kiss her from head to toe. Aye, they would have a wonderful future together. He could easily imagine it.

"Here we are, m'lady." Deidra turned from the bedside table with the wooden cup. "I've cooled it and weakened it a wee bit with cold water. But it should be steeped enough to give you some pain relief. I've added a touch of honey so 'twill go down easy." She glanced at Colin. "Could you help me raise her up so she can drink?"

Remembering the pain she'd been in when she'd first awakened, Colin cringed, but he knew she had to drink it to feel relief. He moved to the back side of the bed. "Kristina, I'm going to lift you up."

She moved her head a fraction of an inch and frowned with her eyes closed.

"Are you ready?"

"Aye," she whispered. "If I must."

He helped her sit up, her small frame even lighter than it had been. She hadn't eaten in days.

"Ow." She ground her teeth.

The knowledge that his actions were causing her pain gutted him. "I'm sorry, mo chridhe, but you must drink the tea."

"Just a few sips, m'lady, and you will feel better," Deidra urged. "Can you drink some so the handsome lad holding you will smile?"

Colin grinned, watching as Kristina swallowed several sips of the tea.

"All right," Deidra said. "That should help the pain go away soon."

Colin lowered her gently to the pillow.

"I'll return in a few minutes." Deidra set the cup down, then left the room.

Returning to the front of the bed, Colin sat on the chair and watched Kristina. Her eyes were open, but she was not looking at him. Dread prickled at the back of his mind.

"Kristina?"

"Aye?" Even then, she did not look at him.

He frowned. "Can you see?"

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "Nay."