by Kris Tualla
“That’s no’ proper!” Logan protested. “You’re no’ married!”
Grier lifted one eyebrow. “And do you forget all the bodies I prepared for burial when the dying first began? The Black Death was no’ particular about that situation, either!”
Logan groused that those persons were beyond caring about modesty, but did as he was bid even so.
Grier went up to her sleeping chamber on the second level of the keep. She lifted a dry kirtle and chemise from her kist, changed into them quickly, and left her wet clothes in a heap on the floor. She grabbed some clean linen rags and hurried back downstairs to the warm kitchen.
The puny afternoon light weakened outside the leaded windows. Grier pulled her basket of healing supplies from a shelf and, fresh candle in hand, approached the stranger, now lying naked but for the linen towel.
“His leg’s broke. See, there? Hold this.” She handed Logan the candle. He paled a little as she prodded the man’s shin. “’Tis a clean break, and only the one bone. That’s good.”
Her experienced hands skimmed over the stranger’s mortally cold skin. The left side of his chest was already darkening.
“His ribs are bruised, might be cracked. But nothing’s loose.” Grier punctuated that assessment with a nod of her head. “A sharp bit o’ broken rib can poke a man’s lungs, so he’s lucky again.”
Logan glanced at her. “If he’s lucky, I would mislike seeing him on a bad day.”
Grier grunted and lifted his arm. “This wrist is swalt. I can no’ tell if it’s broke, but the bones are where they belong.”
“Lucky?”
Her lips twitched. “Aye.”
Blood pooled under the man’s left eye, most likely from a knot on his forehead. Though his body was marked with random scars that seemed the extent of his new injuries.
“Stitches or burning?” she mused, not really asking.
“What?” Logan’s brown eyes widened.
“The gash on his face. How might I close it.” Grier lifted her basket. “I’ll do it first afore he comes sensible. If he comes sensible.”
The cousins considered the limp form stretched naked by the fire. Tall he was, but too thin. Grier had no trouble feeling his bones through pale blue skin.
“Stitches. It’ll take more time, but will scar him less,” Grier decided, and pulled out a needle and thread.
“I’ll take that wee look at the water.” Logan backed away. “To be sure, ye ken?”
“Aye. Go on then,” Grier muttered and threaded her implement.
By the time Logan returned, the gash was closed. Grier dressed it with honey and a strip torn from one linen rag.
“None else washed ashore,” Logan confirmed and pushed a stool close to the fire. He sat and pulled his soaked doublet and shirt off over his head. “I’ll wrap the other’n and prepare his cairn in the yard when the storm blows over.”
Grier nodded her agreement and pointed at the man’s left heel. “Will you pull a bit there?”
Logan blanched and turned to face the patient. He gingerly grasped the man’s heel and swallowed audibly. “Here?” he asked.
“Aye. Hold it just so.” She leaned over the man’s leg and listened to his bones as she pressed them into alignment. “Do no’ move!”
She laid wool wadding over the break and wrapped a layer of linen around his calf. After a quick perusal of the kitchen, Grier selected two long-handled wood spoons. She laid them along either side of the man’s leg with the bowls of the spoons cupping his ankle and wrapped the shafts with strips of linen until his leg was secure.
“Might I move now?” Logan whispered.
“Aye. So long as his leg does no’!” Grier arched her back and stretched.
After she extended the cot with a wooden box to support stranger’s feet, she covered him in blankets and added peat to the fire. Logan went to put on dry clothes. Outside the sky darkened as, somewhere beyond the storm, the sun made her daily departure.
THE HANSEN FAMILY TREE
Sveyn Hansen* (b. 1035 ~ Arendal, Norway)
***
Rydar Hansen (b. 1324 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Grier MacInnes (b. 1328 ~ Durness, Scotland)
Eryndal Bell Hansen (b. 1327 ~ Bedford, England)
Andrew Drummond (b. 1325 ~ Falkirk, Scotland)
***
Jakob Petter Hansen (b. 1485 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Avery Galaviz de Mendoza (b. 1483 ~ Madrid, Spain)
***
Brander Hansen (b. 1689 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Regin Kildahl (b. 1693 ~ Hamar, Norway)
***
Martin Hansen (b. 1721 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Dagne Sivertsen (b. 1725 ~ Ljan, Norway)
Reidar Hansen (b. 1750 ~ Boston, Massachusetts)
Kristen Sven (b. 1754 ~ Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)
Nicolas Hansen (b. 1787 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri Territory)
Siobhan Sydney Bell (b. 1789 ~ Shelbyville, Kentucky)
Stefan Hansen (b. 1813 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri)
Kirsten Hansen (b. 1820 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri)
Leif Fredericksen Hansen (b. 1809 ~ Christiania, Norway)
***
Tor Hansen (b. 1913 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Kyle Solberg (b. 1919 ~ Viking, Minnesota)
Teigen Hansen (b. 1915 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Selby Hovland (b. 1914 ~ Trondheim, Norway)
***
*Hollis McKenna Hansen (b. 1985 Sparta, Wisconsin)
Kris Tualla is a dynamic, award-winning, and internationally published author of historical romance and suspense. She started in 2006 with nothing but a nugget of a character in mind, and has created a dynasty with The Hansen Series, and its spin-off, The Discreet Gentleman Series. Find out more at: www.KrisTualla.com
Kris is an active PAN member of Romance Writers of America, the Historical Novel Society, and Sisters in Crime, and was invited to be a guest instructor at the Piper Writing Center at Arizona State University.
“In the Historical Romance genre, there have been countless kilted warrior stories told. I say it's time for a new breed of heroes. Come along with me and find out why: Norway IS the new Scotland!”