Her eyes widened in fright and she rushed forward. “What happened?”
“I am not sure,” he said. “She was fine one minute and then the next she appeared in pain, then fainted.”
“Get her in bed,” Aliss ordered, hurrying ahead of him to open the door. She tossed the bed covering back for him to lie her down.
Tarr was as gentle as possible, but Fiona yelped with pain as he placed her on the soft bedding.
Fiona finally opened her eyes, seeing Tarr’s face first. “Go away.”
“What pains you?” Aliss asked, drawing her sister’s attention.
“My shoulder.”
Aliss nodded and slipped the brown shirt off her shoulder.
Tarr winced at her drooping shoulder. “Some of my warriors have suffered such an injury.”
“What do you do?” Aliss asked.
“My mother taught me how to move the shoulder back in place.”
“Then you have done it before?”
“Aye, but it is terribly painful. The strongest of my men faint from the hurt,” Tarr said, concerned for Fiona’s fate.
“Good, then you can adjust her shoulder.”
“You do it,” Fiona snapped, and regretted her slight movement.
“Tarr is stronger than I, which means he will be faster and it will be less painful for you.”
“I do not care,” Fiona said.
“I do,” Tarr and Aliss said in unison.
Raynor stepped forward. “Tell me what to do and I shall do it.”
“No!” Again Tarr and Aliss spoke simultaneously.
“It is my choice,” Fiona insisted.
“Not this time,” Tarr said, and stepped forward.
Fiona glared at him.
“I mean you no pain,” he said, apologizing for the suffering he was about to inflict on her.
“Worry not, I can withstand the pain.”
Tarr took a deep breath and as his hands reached for Fiona’s shoulder, her eyes followed him. He met her defiant eyes with a sense of relief. This was one time she would benefit from her obstinate nature.
After examining her shoulder gently he asked, “Ready?”
“Be done with it,” she urged.
He obliged, and with a sudden quick snap her shoulder was in place.
Fiona gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before springing them open. She glared at him with fury.
“With my tolerance for pain I should birth sons for you without difficulty. Now get out of my sight. I hate you!”
Chapter 23
“You drive the poor man insane,” Aliss said, ladling them each a bowl of cabbage soup from the iron pot in the hearth before joining her sister at the small table in their bedchamber.
“You take his side now?” Fiona accused, and eagerly lifted the bowl to taste the potent smelling soup.
“Careful it is hot and your question deserves no answer.”
The steam drifted over Fiona’s face as she placed the bowl on the table for the soup to cool. “He cares for me. Cares! What about love?”
“Perhaps he expressed his feelings the best he could.”
“There you go defending him again.” Fiona grimaced at the ache in her shoulder.
“Your shoulder will mend fast enough, but I can’t say the same for your unbending heart.”
“You are my sister, you should be agreeing with me.”
“I will not agree to foolishness,” Aliss insisted. “I see how Tarr looks at you and I also see his confusion. His life has been devoted to his clan. His choice in a wife was with his clan in mind. Enter a crazy woman who turns his world and his heart upside down, and you have a man who is completely lost.”
“I am not crazy.” Fiona’s voice faltered almost as if she questioned herself. It was followed by a lazy yawn.
“Finish your soup, then it is to bed and rest.”
“I do not mean to demand,” Fiona said, pushing her near empty bowl aside.
“I know,” Aliss said, and walked over to nudge her gently out of the chair. “You need to sleep to let your shoulder heal, and rest will also help you think more clearly.”
“I told him I hated him.”
Aliss heard the quaver in her sister’s voice, which meant tears were close at hand, though Fiona had not shed a single tear since the day after their mother died. She did not even cry the day they buried her.
“You were in severe pain and not thinking straight.”
“I felt the hurt in his eyes.”
“It was probably your own pain you felt,” Aliss said, hoping to ease her sister’s guilt as she helped her into bed and pulled the blanket over her.
“Nay, this pain was different. It was as if I could feel it down to the very core of me, and it lingers there waiting.”
“For what?”
Fiona strained to keep the tears that pooled in her eyes from falling. But they rolled slowly out as she whispered, “Hope.”
Aliss sat with her sister while she slowly cried herself to sleep. Of course the potion she had added to her soup had helped in inducing her slumber. But she needed a good solid night’s rest, and knowing Fiona she would have had a fitful sleep without it.
Besides this was a good time to speak with Tarr.
With a tuck of the blanket around Fiona, and after extinguishing a few candles, she silently crept out of the room.
Tarr looked anxiously at Aliss when she appeared in the hall and stood suddenly at her approach. “Fiona?”
“Is sleeping soundly and will remain so throughout the night.”
His wide shoulders sagged with relief.
Raynor stood and pulled out a chair for her to join them.
“I was hoping to speak with Tarr alone.”
Raynor obliged her. “My solar is a more private place for you to speak.”
Aliss thanked him and followed Tarr to the solar. It was a small room with a generous fire in the hearth, keeping it comfortably warm. A narrow wooden table looked as if it served as a desk, and several chairs took up most of the space. Candles added a faint glow.
Tarr moved two wooden chairs nearer to the fire and waited for her to sit.
Aliss intended not to mince words, but Tarr spoke first.
“Fiona hates me.”
He sounded devastated, as if he had just lost his best friend. Aliss reminded herself never to fall in love; it simply involved too much trouble and heartache.
“Fiona does not hate you,” she assured him.
He turned to stare at the flames, her words not assuaging his worry.
She studied his profile. He was a man of fine features, and she appreciated the way he kept his long auburn hair so clean and shiny. Sitting near him she could smell its freshness. It hinted of fresh rain on a summer’s day.
He was also a man of considerable strength, his tall frame carrying much weight, and yet there was not a soft spot on him. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his thick forearms were pure muscles. His hands gripped the arms of the chair and while large and powerful, she had seen tenderness in those hands when he had cradled her sister in his arms and hugged her tightly to him.
If she had doubted that he truly cared for Fiona she did no more. She had seen the concern in his eyes, the worried expression on his face, and the gentleness of his touch. This man did not just care—he loved Fiona.
“It is not always easy dealing with my sister.”
“Fighting raging battles has been easier.”
She laughed. “It is good you retain your humor. You will need it”
Tarr released his grip on the chair and leaned back shaking his head. “I thought my plan simple. Pick a woman and wed her. I felt I had much to offer a woman, a strong clan for her to join, a man who would protect and respect her.” He shook his head again. “Then I met your sister.”
Aliss reached out and patted his shoulder. “Then something happened you did not expect.”
Tarr stared at her, his look one of disbelief.
“You fell i
n love with Fiona.”
He leaned forward and dropped his head in his hands. He raked his hair with his fingers as he swung his head up and rested it back against the chair. “I have no idea how it happened or when. And I still question myself. Is this love or lust?” He paused, his dark eyes round with confusion. “Then when she was hurt—” His confusion turned to distress. “I never feared as I did when Fiona toppled off her horse into my arms, and I never prayed as hard as I did while I rushed back to the keep.”
“Sounds like love.’
“Really?” he asked anxiously.
She realized that he looked to her to confirm it for him, but who was she to know of love?
“What does your heart tell you?”
“It is more of my stomach that speaks.”
She smiled.
“I cannot eat, and when Fiona turns stubborn my stomach knots. You are a healer,” he said as if just realizing it. “You can give me something for my aching stomach.”
“Advice is what I can give you.”
He seemed disappointed, but then he shrugged. “Anything if it helps.”
“Fiona has seen to our care since our father died. Our mother had turned ill soon after and was bedridden until she passed. I tended her while Fiona saw to the care of the fields, hunted food, made repairs to the cottage, made certain there was peat and logs for the fireplace, and protected us.”
“She was but eleven years, how could she protect?”
“With sheer stubbornness and a sharp tongue,” Aliss said and smiled, though it instantly faded. “And a tenacity to survive.” She turned silent for a moment, recalling the painful memories. “After mother died, I cried terribly; Fiona cried but once right when she died. She kissed our mother, prepared her for burial, then dug her grave. She dug straight through the night, wanted it deep like father’s grave, so that no man or animal would disturb her.
“I wanted to help but she insisted that I sit with mother, that she was not to be left alone. When it was finally done, the wooden cross staked in the ground, the prayers spoken, she turned to me and held out her hands. They were raw and it took weeks for them to heal.”
Tarr winced at the thought. “Your uncle came then and she had to worry no more, right?”
“Fiona intended to take no chances of us ever worrying about surviving on our own again. When we arrived at the MacElder clan, she immediately befriended the bowmaker and begged Uncle Tavish to let her learn bowmaking. She also discovered that an old warrior known for his swordsmanship lived as a hermit in the woods. Many thought him a myth, but Fiona searched those woods until she found him. At first he chased her away, yelling at her that he wanted nothing to do with children. But she persisted, and he soon relented they became friends. It is because of him she is skillful with a sword.
“Fiona did what was necessary for us both, and the only thing she has ever asked for herself is to find a love as strong as our parents’.”
A catch in her throat paused Aliss, and her shining green eyes warned of tears.
“Fiona loves you. I hear it in her voice when she speaks of you. I see it in her eyes when she looks at you, and I feel her joy when she returns from having spent time with you.” She paused purposely this time and reached out to place her hand on Tarr’s forearm. “And I think you feel the same about her. You are both lucky to have found such a strong love. Do not let pride or foolishness stand in your way.”
“You are telling me to fight for her.”
Aliss nodded, fighting back her tears.
“But I must fight Fiona to win Fiona.”
Aliss smiled and let one tear fall. “She is so very obstinate. I fear she will lose you and will always regret it.”
Tarr patted her hand and grinned. “Thank you for telling me all this. And do not fear Fiona is mine and will always be mine.”
“I am glad to hear you say that, for then I will worry no more. I know you will be good to Fiona and patient with her.”
“Patience, you will need to remind me of this every now and again,” Tarr said with a laugh and stood, holding his hand out to her. “Suddenly I am hungry, will you join me?”
She took his hand. “I would be honored.”
“Nay,” he said, his expression serious. “It is I who am honored that you join the clan Hellewyk, and proud I will be able to call you my sister.”
A tear fell as they walked out of the solar. All would be well now. Her sister would be happy and so would she. Life was good.
“I am famished,” Fiona said as she and Aliss entered the great hall the next morning. “You were right, rest was what I needed.”
“I wish to speak with you,” Tarr said, stepping out of the shadows and grabbing hold of Fiona’s arm.
“Can it not wait until after I have eaten?” Fiona stretched her neck so that she could glimpse the table heavy with platters of steaming food.
“It is important.”
“Oh, all right, but it better not take long.” She walked off with him not having noticed the wink he sent Aliss. “Do not eat all the honey bread,” she called over her shoulder to her sister, then sent Tarr a heated glare. “This better be urgent.”
He drew them into a small alcove off the hall and took her hand. “I love you.”
Fiona stared at him and shook her head. “You love me?”
“Aye, I love you and thought it time I told you.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You have only suddenly realized this?”
“I am not certain when I realized I loved you.”
“Yesterday you simply cared for me,” she reminded. “Now suddenly today you love me?”
“You do not believe me.”
Fiona folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
“I do not lie,” he said vehemently.
“No, you conveniently discover you love me just before my parents arrive.”
He gritted his teeth. “I love you.”
“Simple enough words to say. Why do you love me?”
“Why?” Tarr threw his hands up. “I have no idea why I love a bullheaded wench like you.”
“Oh, you give me gooseflesh when you talk that way to me,” she mocked.
He grabbed hold of her good arm. “How does this sound? I love you in spite of your pigheaded nature and I am determined, in spite of your pigheaded nature, to love you until the day you die.”
He kissed her before she could speak, forceful and hungry as if he were trying to solidify his words by his actions.
He pushed her away when he was finished and stomped off.
Fiona stood alone for a moment, her fingers faintly tracing her swollen lips. They pulsed from his kiss and ached for more.
“Damn him,” she mumbled, and marched into the great hall in a fury. She looked around, and catching no sight of Tarr she hurried over to the dais where her sister sat alone. “Where did Tarr go?”
Aliss pointed to the door.
Fiona debated. Did she follow him? Why, though? What else could she say to him that she had not already said?
She looked to Aliss.
“The decision is yours,” Aliss reminded.
Fiona sighed and hurried out the door.
She looked over the village, trying to see where Tarr had gone. She finally spied him talking with one of his warriors.
She had responded badly to his declaration of love, though she could not help question it, coming so soon after their discussion. How could she believe he truly loved her?
She kicked at the stone near her foot. He had expressed several times how he had not felt love was necessary to marriage, so why should she believe his change of heart now?
This love thing was not what she had expected. She had expected to meet someone, fall in love, wed, and be happy. She had suffered nothing but angst since meeting Tarr. But then she had not expected to fall in love with him.
“Have you chased after me to apologize?”
Fiona looked up to see Tarr standing a few feet away. S
he was about to snap at him when she thought better of it. She held her tongue.
“Love is new and strange to me, Fiona. It caught me off guard, quaking the ground beneath me, and I am still trying to find firm footing. It makes no sense to me, and the more I attempt to define it the more confused I become. So all I can say to you is that I love you and I’ll keep saying it until you finally believe me.”
Fiona stared at him.
“Do not tell me that I have struck you speechless?” Tarr asked with a laugh.
“I think you have,” she said surprised.
“Good, then you will think on what I have told you and hopefully reach the same conclusion that I have—that I love you.”
He had declared his love for her several times in a short span of time. Did he truly mean what he said?
“Doubt it if you will,” Tarr challenged, “but I do not.”
A shout drew their attention and Raynor waved to them. “Our parents have arrived.”
Chapter 24
“I do not know if I am ready for this,” Aliss said to her sister while they stood on the steps of the keep watching a procession of impressive warriors enter the village.
Fiona took her sister’s hand. “We have each other. That is all that matters.”
Tarr walked up from behind. “You also have me.”
Raynor paced at the bottom of the steps, looking about ready to burst with excitement. Though he appeared a potent warrior in a dark brown leather tunic and leggings, he seemed more a young boy eager to reunite with his parents.
The warriors divided to the left and right before reaching Raynor. Then finally, two horses approached and on them rode a man and woman. The woman’s eyes rounded when she spotted Raynor, and she rushed to dismount.
Raynor hurried forward and helped her, though she needed none. She was on the ground, her arms stretched out, before Raynor could reach her.
The woman was stunning, her height equal to Fiona’s. Her hair was dark like her son’s and plaited in a braid that hung over her shoulder. She wore a simple though elegant gown of a heather color with a rich purple cloak draped over her shoulders. She was slim, and though she had to be at least twenty years older than Fiona, she showed little signs of an aged woman.
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