“You don’t have to,” he said. “I can cut the cloth around the wound to expose it enough for me to tend it.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “That would work.”
“It would be easier if you laid down on the bed,” he said and was glad she didn’t object when he led her there. “I’ll see to your face and leg after seeing to your side.”
“I am grateful for your help and will make sure James knows how honorably you treated me,” she said.
“For a half-brother he worries much about you and your sisters,” Tarass said as he went to the hearth to get the bucket of snow that was now warm water and place it at the side of the bed.
“My sisters and I are lucky that he is a good and honorable half-brother who continues to keep his word to our father to look after us and see us kept safe.”
Tarass moved one of the chairs to the side of the bed, sat, then took his knife and cut a piece of cloth from the blanket and draped it over the side of the bucket.
“I’m going to cut away at your garment now,” he said.
“All right,” she said, her stomach growing unsettled, not only with worry for her wound, but with having Tarass touch her in too much of a familiar way. It wasn’t right, but there was no alternative. Of course, her blindness made it all the more difficult since she couldn’t see how he looked upon her. She was completely dependent on him not only to tend her but to be truthful to her.
Tarass was as gentle as he could be and thankfully Snow didn’t wince once, but he did when he finally exposed her wound.
“You grow silent and your hands grow still. What’s wrong?” she asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice.
He didn’t hesitate to tell her the truth. “A stick has managed to embed itself in your side. How long the stick and how deep it goes, I don’t know.”
“The only way to find out is to remove it,” she said, trying to be practical like her sister Willow, but fearful nonetheless.
“True enough,” Tarass agreed, but he had seen men with similar wounds and once the object was removed some bled to death.
“How deep it is, is what matters,” Snow said. “So let’s be done with it and, Tarass,” —she paused briefly— “if anything should happen to me, please let my family know I love them.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you… you’re too obstinate,” he said, the thought that she would die sending a sudden anger through him.
“Then we have something in common,” she said and was surprised when he laughed.
Thaw seemed to understand what was happening and jumped up on the bed to curl against her other side and stare at Tarass.
“He’s watching you, isn’t he?” Snow asked.
“Like a hawk ready to attack his prey,” Tarass said, the pup’s eyes intent on him.
Snow caressed the pup. “It’s all right, Thaw. Tarass helps me.”
Thaw looked at her and whimpered.
“All is well, worry not,” she assured him softly.
He turned his attention back to Tarass to keep watch.
“I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt,” Tarass said.
“Then be done with it quickly,” she advised, her one hand gripping the blanket beneath her.
He carefully used his knife to probe at the top of the embedded stick and he wanted to curse seeing Snow cringe in pain, but not saying a word.
It took a couple of more pokes and prods, and winces and a grasp or two from Snow, with the knife to get the stick high enough for him to grab it and pull it out.
Tarass smiled as he announced, “It’s a little one.”
“It didn’t break off in there, did it?” Snow asked anxiously, and Thaw whined.
“Not that I can see,” he said, taking a closer look at the wound that thankfully bled little. “I’ll clean it and wrap it. As soon as you possibly can, have Willow look at it.”
“My thought as well,” she said, relieved.
After he got the wound cleaned and tore a strip of cloth from the blanket, he helped her to sit up, Thaw sticking close to her.
“It will make it easier to wrap the wound,” he said, and she didn’t argue.
He slipped his hand inside the ripped portion of her garment to slip the cloth around to her back when he hit a spot that caused her to gasp and gave him pause. The spot was badly swollen.
“That’s it,” he said. “You’re disrobing and I’m going to look over every part of you to make certain there are no more potentially dangerous wounds.”
Chapter 5
“I most certainly will not disrobe,” Snow said emphatically.
“You would die for the sake of propriety?” he asked and gave her no chance to answer. “Another stick, stone, who knows what could be embedded in you. If it’s not removed quickly it will fester and you will fever and die. That’s what your stubbornness will do for you.”
She could hear her sisters in her head warning her to do what she must to survive, especially Willow. She would have had Snow’s garments off by now and searching every part of her body. But it was far different standing in front of her sister naked than Tarass.
It needed to be done, but there had to be a way that it could be done without her being completely naked in front of him.
A thought came to her, making her feel hopeful. “What if I disrobe and keep a blanket around me and you glance at the areas causing me pain or discomfort?”
He shook his head, though answered the opposite. “Fine, we’ll do it that way.” Anything that would allow him to make sure she was all right. He would do whatever it took to see her returned safely and unharmed to her family.
Tarass moved the chair away from the bed and helped her to stand, then he gathered up the blanket on the bed and directed her hand to it. “Here’s the blanket. I’m going to stand by the hearth with my back to you until you tell me you’re ready.”
“Your word on that?” she asked.
“You have my word,” he said, annoyed that she felt the need to ask and walked over to the hearth. “My back is to you.”
Snow had to take his word that he spoke the truth, no other options left to her.
She hoped to hurry out of her garments, but they were damp, actually more than damp and it was difficult getting them off. The pains that struck her didn’t help either and while she fought with the stubborn garments she kept telling herself that she was wise to do this.
She pulled and tugged and gasped a few times as she struggled to shed her tunic and shift after finally shedding her wool hose.
Tarass warned himself to let her be. This was the way she wanted it. She’d get out of her garments eventually. But every gasp and wince was like the tip of a dagger poking him. Until finally she gasped one too many times.
“That’s it,” he said, turning and walking over to her.
“You gave your word,” she said as she heard him approach and hurried to push her shift down where it was entangled at her shoulders just above her breasts.
“What good does my word do when you need help?” he said and grabbed hold of the bunched shift and lifted it up over her shoulders, only to have it get stuck around her neck and head.
“Let me be. I’ll do it myself,” she argued, her voice muffled by the garments and her hands fighting his.
Thaw sprung up from where he sat on the bed, protesting along with Snow, his snarls aimed at Tarass.
He paid her no mind as she continued to struggle, until his arm caught her around her naked waist and held her firm. “Stay still or I will take my dagger and rip your garments off you.”
The threat had the desired effect. She froze against him.
A low warning growl emanated from Thaw and he poised himself for attack.
“Calm your pup now,” he ordered Snow.
She didn’t hesitate, the snarl warning her that he was about to attack. “Enough, Thaw, I’m not in danger. Tarass helps me.”
The pup sat but kept up a low growl, letting Tarass know he was
watching him.
It took only a couple of moments to free her of the strangling garments and leave her standing naked in front of him.
She didn’t know why she closed her eyes, since he was nothing more than a gray shadow to her. Perhaps it served as a covering, a blanket of sorts that left her feeling less vulnerable. By not seeing his shadow, he couldn’t see her.
“I’ll be quick,” he said softly.
That he was now trying to be courteous only made it more difficult.
He had no intimate interest in Snow. He wanted only to see what wounds she had suffered and tend them. But as he began to examine her, thoughts of what a lovely body she had kept interrupting. He’d never seen a woman so perfectly proportioned. She had just the right roundness and curves that blended beautifully and flawlessly, cream-colored skin with the exception of the bruises and scratches that had him shaking his head.
He needed to stay focused and it didn’t help that he had to lift one of her breasts, that fit nicely in his hand, to look at a bruise that had formed there.
Snow stiffened and wished she could crawl under the blanket and never come out. “Is that necessary?”
“There is a bruise beneath your breast. I want to make sure nothing is embedded there,” he explained as her chilled breast rested in his warm hand and he watched as her nipple puckered even more than it had.
“Please hurry,” she said, annoyed that the warmth of his hand at her breast felt pleasing.
She was right, he needed to hurry and be done with it, since he felt his loins begin to stir. Something he had never expected.
He ran his hand over several bruises and winced when he saw the numerous scratches. “I need to clean these scratches. Some are quite red and swollen.”
“Hurry,” she said again and squeezed her eyes closed tighter.
“There’s also a large bruise on your back and some smaller ones in various places. And a sizeable scratch on your thigh. But I don’t see anything embedded anywhere. I’ll hurry and see to these, then get the blanket around you.”
“I would be most grateful,” she said, trying desperately to keep control, not cry, not rail against the indignity of her situation.
He isn’t attracted to you. He has no desire to poke you. He does not look upon you with any intimate interest. You hold no appeal to him, not even naked.
She continued her silent chant to help her get through this humiliating ordeal. And what disturbed her even more was that he proved what she had thought. No man would be interested in a blind woman.
All her hopes and dreams of having a loving husband and family of her own came crashing down around her.
Tarass went down on his haunches, wet cloth in hand, after having cut another piece from the blanket and soaking and rinsing it in the bucket, to tend the scratch on her thigh.
He could be mannerly when he wanted to be, though that wasn’t often, but damned if her thatch of red hair between her legs didn’t beckon his eyes and entice. Or that her slim thighs didn’t invite him to spread them apart and—that did it. He stood and grabbed the blanket, Thaw giving him an evil look and a low growl as if he knew what he’d been thinking.
With deft hands, he quickly wrapped the blanket around her. “I can see to the rest with you covered up.”
With such a sudden change of mind, she wondered if he found her so unappealing that he could no longer look upon her. She should be grateful, since it brought the humiliating ordeal to a rapid end. She took hold of the two ends, he shoved in her hands, and closed the blanket tight around her, shielding herself.
Tarass silently cursed himself. Snow had been a thorn in his side from the day he had met her. He wondered if she remembered that day so long ago, when young, they had met for the first time. It had stuck in his memory. She had stuck in his memory.
He shook his head. That was a long time ago. He wasn’t a young, carefree lad anymore. He was a fierce warrior who had returned home to claim his birthright and make all those responsible pay for what had happened to his mother and father.
Now was not the time to think on this. He needed to see to her wounds and see her returned home safely. There was one other thing he needed to make sure of.
“No one can find out about you being naked in front of me or we will be forced to wed,” he said.
“You need not worry about that. I have no wont to wed you,” she said, and she didn’t. So why had his words hurt her? “I will tell my sister I tended the areas that pained me and that I could reach. Everyone is aware we have no like for each other so they will easily accept my word.” She kept her chin up and her shoulders back as she spoke, though the weight of the endless day lay heavily upon them. “I don’t believe anyone will question it. Once you return me home we’ll never have to bother with each other again.”
“I imagine you’re right,” he said and wondered why he felt as if he’d just been stabbed in the gut. “I’ll see to your face and—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can do the rest myself. At least that way part of what I say will be the truth.”
Tarass was about to argue, but realized she was right. It was much better for them both. He should have never broken his word to her. He should have waited until she had shed her garments and wrapped the blanket around her. So why hadn’t he?
It had upset him to hear her struggle with her garments, and in pain, and stand there and do nothing. Why he had let it disturb him, he didn’t know. But it was done. He’d get her home and make sure they’re paths crossed as little as possible. She’d been right about people accepting the explanation, it having been obvious he and Snow didn’t care for each other.
“I’ll keep my back to you. Do what you must and let me know when you’re done,” he said.
She was blunt. “I do not trust your word.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that. My back remains to you. Do what you will.” He turned his back on her and went and sat on a chair. “The bucket of water and cloth are not far from your right foot.” He intended to say no more after that, but a thought had him deciding otherwise. “Is there anything you can recall about this man who grabbed you?”
Snow was relieved for the change in conversation. “His grip on my shoulder was strong. He didn’t speak. When he went to drag me away, I fought him.”
“You fought him?” Tarass asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.
“I did.” Fear had her recalling it clearly. “I kicked at him, swung at him.” She shook her head. “But to no avail. Finally, I swung my head and caught him under the chin, sending him stumbling enough for his hand to fall off me, then I rushed off in the snow, hoping it would swallow me up enough that he wouldn’t be able to find me. I didn’t know in what direction I went and I was frightened he might not be alone. That was why I didn’t call out to you at first, for fear someone else might find me.”
Tarass’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter with each word she spoke. It took courage to fight, to defend yourself. But it took tremendous courage for a blind woman to fight and run off in a snowstorm.
“You’re a brave woman, Snow.”
“Is it bravery or the instinct to survive that forces courage upon us?” she asked.
“Not all have courage. And instinct to survive comes in many ways. Some surrender easily. Some beg for mercy. Some are fearless and some are fools.”
“It takes a fool to be fearless,” she said with a light laugh.
He chuckled as he said, “So you think yourself a fool.”
“Aren’t we all fools one time or another?”
“I’d like to argue that, but I can’t, since there have been times, when thought upon, that I was a fool,” he admitted.
“And I as well,” she said, surprised that he would admit such a thing. “I am done. You can turn now.”
She had wrapped the blanket around her from under her arms down and was sitting on the bed with her back braced against the wall, her feet tucked up nearly under her. She had braide
d her hair, though loosely, letting red strands fall free around her face. The scratches were more prominent there after being tended, and still, she was beautiful.
“Tell me of a time you were a fool,” he encouraged, needing to stop finding her so appealing. He’d only recently been with a willing woman, but then his appetite to couple never seemed satisfied.
“That would be the first time we met,” she said with a smile and rubbed her bare arms, feeling chilled. “I believe I was eight years and you were ten and three years.”
“You remember that?” He stood, grabbing her cloak from the chair to take it to her. “I have your cloak, let me drape it around your shoulders.”
Snow leaned forward, eager for the warmth of the fur-lining. The warm fur ran another shiver through her, followed by another one when Tarass tucked the cloak around her and over her chilled feet.
He sat beside her on the bed, the side of his arm resting against hers. “So do you remember?” he asked again.
She was glad for the cloak’s warmth and for his added warmth, the cold sneaking in through the walls.
“I remember it quite clearly. Father brought me and Sorrell with him when he came to your keep to speak with your father. You dared Sorrell to climb a tree with you and got mad when she climbed higher than you. You went and told your father and mine that Sorrell had climbed high in the tree when you warned her not to climb the tree. Your father gave her quite a tongue lashing.”
“Which you interrupted by shouting ‘liar, liar’ and punching me where a young lass’s fist should never touch and sending me to the ground.”
Snow chuckled. “I was short. It was the only spot I could reach.”
He laughed himself and shook his head. “Did I ever suffer for that one. First with the punch from you and second for lying to my da.”
“You deserved both, though I didn’t think you remembered it.”
Tarass laughed again. “That’s a memory you don’t forget. Your punch might not have had much strength to it, but where it hit, it didn’t have to.”
“My da yelled at me and Sorrell praised me.”
Highlander Lord of Fire Page 4