by Fiona Faris
“I will be makin’ another poultice tae place along her chest. There are many patients downstairs with the same illness, and they are havin’ difficulties breathin’.” Sophia placed the mint and meadowsweet into the round of the mortar and began crushing it. The smell of crushed mint filled the room, and the sweet, floral aroma followed closely after. Sophia let the smell overpower her as she closed her eyes and continued crushing the leaves. The smell always brought on memories of her mother, who would make her this concoction any time she was ill or had stomach problems.
“Smells lovely,” Logan said finally.
Sophia nodded. “The mint will help her if she starts havin’ difficulty breathin’, too. It will also soothe her aching belly. The meadowsweet will help with the fever.” She added bits of water to give the herbs something to mix with.
“Ye have so much knowledge about all of this. Yer a great healer, Sophia, and I am grateful ye are here to help Ava and the other people of the keep.” He looked down at his daughter as he said those words.
Sophia felt a blush spread across her cheek. She had barely studied the healing arts, but she felt compelled to share her knowledge without thinking twice. It was something that existed in her and came out without conscious effort. She was happy to finally have a chance to use the knowledge and to grow, even if it did come under terrible circumstances.
Sophia walked over to Logan and Ava holding the mortar. The poultice was ready.
“I’ll need ye to pull her shirt down so I can place it along her chest and neck.” She gave clear guidance to Logan, and he nodded and followed her orders. Ava sucked on her thumb and squirmed a bit, but she was too weak to argue too much.
“I’ll just be puttin’ a wee bit of the healin’ mud on yer lungs, alright?” Sophia said as she began applying the mixture. At first, Ava pulled away from the cool of the medicine, but after smelling the mint she seemed to calm down a little bit. She closed her eyes as if feeling the effects already taking place.
“There, all done,” Sophia said as she lifted her shirt over the linen that held the herbs in place.
“Now,” Sophia looked to Logan, “we will be needin’ to keep putting fresh poultice on many times today. The fresh herbs work best fer this, and will get into her body quicker.” Logan nodded, understanding and listening.
“Papa, I dinnae feel good,” Ava mumbled. She closed her eyes and leaned into Logan, whose lip trembled almost imperceptibly.
“Aye, I know, wee one, but we will do what we can tae help ye feel better. Ye just listen tae Sophia, and let her give ye the medicine ye need, alrigh’?” He felt a pit in his chest at hearing the suffering of his daughter.
“Alright, Papa,” Ava said in a weak voice.
“Now, take a drink of water for Papa, aye?” He held the glass to her lips, and she took a few sips. She smiled afterward, and Logan cheered for her in a soft and gentle voice.
“Well done,” he said. Ava smiled, happy to have pleased her father.
Sophia watched Logan hold his daughter. Her attention was distracted, however, when a kitchen staff member walked in with a small cauldron and a bundle of more herbs. Sophia looked over, confused.
“Fanny has asked us tae bring ye a cauldron of water, some vegetables, and some herbs so ye can make the wee one a broth.” Sophia threw her head back. Of course—how had she forgotten to come up with a meal for Ava? She felt ashamed at her lack of thinking about that part of the healing.
“Thank ye; set it over there please.” The man walked in and set down the cauldron, along with the herbs, a knife, and some vegetables where Sophia had the mortar and pestle. He bowed swiftly and left the room.
“Logan, can ye help me get a low fire going? If we keep it small and keep Ava in bed, it will nae make her too warm. I’ll get tae making her a broth right away.” Logan nodded and stood from the rocking chair with Ava in his arms. He set her gently on the bed. Ava fussed a little, wanting to remain in her father’s arms of course, but she settled into the bed as he focused on building the fire.
Logan created a spark with some kindling and a slate stone. He lit the fire quickly, much more quickly than Sophia had ever seen any other man do. Logan clearly knew what he was doing. He walked over, picked up the cauldron of water, and set it over the flame so it could begin heating.
Sophia got to work. She chopped up more fresh herbs. She cut potatoes, carrots, and cabbage swiftly, making sure to cut them in tiny pieces so Ava could easily swallow without spending too much energy chewing. Once the water began to boil, she slid the ingredients into the warm water and let them simmer.
“Alright, wee one,” Sophia said to Ava, “let’s get ye out of these sickly clothes and into something more cozy, aye?” The little girl bounced, happy to change back into her cozy clothes instead of the heavy dress she wore while exploring the castle grounds. The girl reached her arms up and let Sophia slide off the sweaty, scratchy fabric. She slid on the nightshirt she had picked from Ava’s wardrobe. It was the softest and coolest one she could find to help keep her temperature down.
“A fresh pair of clothes always helps ye feel better,” she said to Ava, tucking a thin blanket around her.
Ava nods. “Tis my favorite night shirt!” she exclaimed, tugging at the fabric to show Sophia her favorite flower embroidery and the soft lace details.
Logan chuckled in response. “She cannae help but show off, even with an illness.” He shook his head, but after the worry lines that had creased into his face just moments ago, Sophia was glad to see him smiling and laughing.
“Tis a beautiful nightshirt, and I am mighty jealous tae not have me own!” Sophia responded sweetly. “Now, ye lay back, alrigh’? Try tae rest while yer broth cooks.” Ava nodded to Sophia’s command and laid back onto her fluffy pillow. Alongside the lingering mint, the smell of steaming herbs and boiling carrots filled the room. Sophia inhaled the scents and savored them. While the broth continued cooking, the light sounds of Ava’s snore took over. Sophia smiled to herself. She was happy to see Ava resting. It would help her recover more quickly.
Sophia sat on the edge of the bed with Ava for a few minutes after the little girl drifted to sleep. She reached her arm across and brushed her hair away from her eyes. She sat like that for a few minutes, smoothing down Ava’s hair, braiding the parts of it that were loose so she could sleep more restfully, without wild strands tickling her skin. Logan watched her from the rocking chair. He could not take his eyes off of Sophia in that moment.
The way she moved now, with Ava near her, made her all the more beautiful to him. She was a true healer, but even more than that, she had a natural motherliness to her. He could see how gently she moved in the way her fingertips only barely touched the girl’s soft hair. Sophia seemed to be humming a tune soft enough for only Ava to hear. He could see how much care she had towards Ava. In that moment, she wanted to do anything and everything she could do to make sure Ava would recover as soon as possible.
He knew he couldn’t sit there, staring at her without doing anything, so he thought it best to say something—anything.
“Ye have a natural motherliness about ye. Tis what makes ye a great healer I suppose.” He kept his voice low so as not to wake his daughter. But the lowered volume created a soft growl in voice that made Sophia’s skin tingle with anticipation.
“I was an only child. Growin’ up, I felt very alone some days, and tis part of what makes me this way I suppose,” Sophia responded in her own low whisper.
Logan leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees so as to hear her better. “Have ye ever thought about havin’ yer own? Do ye want a family one day? I reckon ye’d be a great mum.” Logan looked to the floor as he spoke. He knew the answer he wanted to hear, but was still worried she would answer differently.
“Aye, I have always wanted a big family with many wee ones. I cannae help but long for motherhood, for my own wee one, but since living out near the border and with so little, there was no dowry fer me father to offer
any eligible man. I suppose tis best; I never felt fond of marrying fer convenience,” Sophia responded.
It was true—especially in the last few days, she found herself thinking more about being a mother, about being pregnant and married. She supposed it was her age, she was nearing the years when she would be getting less and less men interested in marriage. She only had so much time, but her life was pushing her in so many directions, it seemed impossible to know whether she would ever be able to find someone whom she could love and eventually marry.
“I reckon many marry fer love, but many fer convenience, too,” Logan added solemnly.
“My parents were so in love, I cannae see gettin’ married fer the sake of having wealth, or fer the sake of havin’ someone tae care for me. I want tae marry out of love.” She looked back at Ava as she spoke.
Logan didn’t know what to say. He was glad she wanted a family; that much of a fact was important to him if anything was to happen between them. Not that he was thinking something would happen. But the kiss had driven him wild in many ways he did not care to think about. Sophia was the first woman in a long while who had made him ponder a new kind of future. And that fact thrilled and unnerved him.
Logan walked over and sat on a trunk near Ava’s bed. He reached across and took Sophia’s small hand in his. She gasped at the feel of his flesh against hers.
“Sophia, I am vary grateful tae have ye here, to have ye helpin’ Ava.” He squeezed her hand.
“Tis no problem, Logan. Tis my duty,” she responded earnestly.
“No, I truly mean it. Havin’ ye here, not just right now but havin’ ye in the keep, has changed me. Yer a light tae my day. I dinnae understand it, but I am drawn tae ye, Sophia, I cannae keep from thinkin’ of ye, from wantin’ tae talk tae ye.” Logan pulled Sophia’s hand, bringing her closer to him. She walked over and sat on his lap on the trunk.
Her face was flush with heat and a spreading blush. “I’ve been thinkin’ of ye too, Logan, often.” She looked at her own hands, ashamed at the thoughts she had been having about him—about them, together in ways that she shouldn’t be thinking of right now, with so much happening around them. She wanted to tell him that even as she tried to distract herself with other duties and thoughts, her mind continuously came back to him. She very much enjoyed their kiss just outside this room, but she was also ashamed. He had been in need, and she fell into him, probably confusing him. She wanted to apologize, but she also wanted desperately to kiss him again.
“Logan, about the kiss earlier,” Sophia started to say.
Logan reached up and cupped her cheek. He ran his rough thumb against the plush softness of her lips. He pushed them closed, just gently enough for Sophia to understand.
“Dinnae say anything about it that I dinnae wish to hear. Dinnae tell me ye regret it. I cannae bear the thought of hearin’ those words.” Logan moved his hand to the back of her head. He pulled Sophia in, and she leaned in as well, until their lips brushed against one another’s. Sophia felt as though she was melting into him like the river near her old home, like rushing water cascading over him. She could not reject this kiss, and there was no part of her that wanted to. She knew it was not right; she was a healer’s apprentice, and he was the laird of the castle, a widowed laird. His daughter was ill, sleeping nearby. But there was nothing that was going to separate their lips.
Logan pulled Sophia into his chest with the force of all the need he had in him. Kissing her was like breathing in a way he had not been able to in a long time. The grief inside of him seemed to shrink down to nothing more than a speck of dust. As his tongue slid into her mouth, he felt as though they were moving as one. A rush of blood moved from his heart to his chest, to his arms, to his stomach, and even lower still, until he could not bear the need for more any longer.
Sophia exploded in a frenzy of passion. All the comfort she had been seeking for weeks, she found in his broad chest, in the strength of his arms, in the sizzle of his kiss. She could not contain herself, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Logan pulled her in harder, as if the sound thrilled him, too.
Sophia pulled away. This was not the time nor the place for them to be embracing. And if she did not stop at that moment, she felt she would get lost in the passion, and forget all about everything she still had to do and care for.
Logan let out a long sigh as their lips separated. He wanted to keep kissing her, to hold her, to run his hands along any exposed flesh, but he too knew they needed to stop, to control themselves. Sophia stood quickly from his lap; her hand moved to her mouth instinctively. She turned to say something but found herself at a loss for words. Logan stood too.
“I should, I should go check the reports fer the day. I need tae see how things are goin’, and how many are affected by the illness,” Logan said finally. He looked pained. As he glanced between Sophia and Ava, he clearly did not want to leave. But he had duties as laird that he needed to fulfill. He took a step towards Sophia and opened his mouth to say something else, but decided against it.
Sophia turned to face away from Logan. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted their lips to continue closing against each other, because for those few moments, it didn’t matter who she was, who he was, or all the chaos that surrounded them. Together, in those moments, only they existed. She could not face him—not with the heat that lived in her face. She feared she would break down in front of him and be unable to stop.
“I’ll keep a close eye on Ava,” she said finally. “I’ll do my best tae heal her.” She fumbled with the skin along her nail. Logan stayed put, waiting for her to turn. When he realized she would not he started to leave the room.
“I’ll have the kitchen send up some food and water for ye. If ye need anything else, just ask.” He walked over to the door frame and lingered there, but Sophia couldn’t gather the strength to say anything else to him. He turned and walked off. She stood there, waiting until the echo of his footsteps faded before she went and sat down near Ava again.
Before she could stop herself, the tears escaped from her eyes, and her chest heaved as she let out soft whimpers. So much had gone on in Sophia’s life in the last season that the weight of it all sometimes came crashing down on her. She tried to quiet herself to keep from waking Ava. Now that she and Logan had kissed twice, she was chastising herself for making the mistake of letting it happen. She wanted desperately to call him back, to stay in his arms. But right now was a terrible time for all of this to take place. She needed to keep herself focused on her duties and on building a new life for herself.
What am I doin’? Sophia asked herself. The tears continued flowing. This was not when she should be developing feelings for a man who was so clearly outside of her class. What was she thinking, kissing Logan, and falling so hard for him so fast?
Was that what this was? Was she truly becoming invested in her feelings for him? What would all of that amount to? He was laird, and she was but a healer. If this continued, it would end up with her being hurt and broken. They could never be together, not truly. The people would not stand for it.
She was not cut out to be the true lady of this clan. She barely knew the people within it, having spent most of her life in the farmlands at the outskirts, near the river and rolling hills. Was she even cut out to live here in the castle for the rest of her life?
Sophia knew she needed to get herself back into control before things developed any further. She already knew it would be hard to pull away from him—especially after that sweeping kiss, and the feel of his hand against her skin.
Chapter Seventeen
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Sophia continued checking Ava’s temperature, replacing the linens and poultice as soon as they dried, and continued slipping Ava drops of the tincture to help bring the fever down. Sometime in the early evening, her fever peaked again, and both Sophia and Logan were terribly worried. Ava felt ill and uncomfortable, but she continued drinking broth, sipping water, and resting as best as she could.
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The night, however, was much longer than the day. It passed by in stages of briefly sleeping against the wall on the trunk in Ava’s bedchamber, and pacing the room, checking her temperature furiously. Sophia was so worried, she could scarcely sleep a wink, even when Logan offered to watch over Ava so she could rest. The fever added, with the fact that Sophia found herself alone with Logan for the evening, was too much pressure on her nerves. She was trying so hard not to be drawn to him, not to run to him. Though they did not kiss again that evening, it was only because Sophia continued forcing herself to be ten or so steps away from him.
The two passed the night in turns, each watching over Ava and feeding her sips of water and drops of the tincture as often as they could. After the high peak, sometime later in the dead of night, the fever broke, and Ava was able to get some deep sleep. By the time morning came, she was still warm, but not nearly as hot as she had been the previous day. Sophia was ecstatic and relieved.
Once Ava woke, the first thing she called for was some food. She rubbed her belly and said, “Grains please, hungry.” Logan and Sophia smiled widely and chuckled as they heard her stomach rumble with hunger. The fact that her appetite had returned was a very good sign indeed. Not just that; Ava seemed to be sitting up easier as well. She was able to clap her hands when the bowl of grains was brought to her. She slurped down the mixture quickly, and savored the milk and honey that was mixed in.