Katherine put her ear to Maire’s chest, hearing moist crackling sounds as she exhaled. “Well, Maire, I think there might be a few things we can do. First, I suspect you will be more comfortable if you take a bit of a rest with your legs up.” With a little protest, she helped the woman into bed, elevating both her head and her feet with pillows. “I won’t be a minute now—I just have to get something from outside.” Popping out of the cottage, she found Turcuil standing in the yard, so she asked him for the dagger he wore on his belt. The confused giant of a man handed her his dagger without question and she proceeded to pry some dandelions from the ground nearby, getting as much of the root as possible.
Having done that, she carefully cut some nettles, gathering them with her plaid wrapped around her hand to protect her skin from the stinging hairs. Back in the cottage, the women chatted as Katherine prepared an infusion of the dandelion root, adding a little honey to sweeten it. She gave a mug to the old woman to drink. Then she put the nettles in a cauldron of water with onions and a bit of cold chicken she found, saying, “It is rather late in the summer for nettles, so let them stew down well, otherwise they might be a bit tough.”
“Now, lass, I thought ye had a potion or something for me. Were ye just making an excuse to cook my dinner?”
Katherine laughed. “Nay, Maire. You are holding on to a lot of water. You can see it there in your legs and that is what is making it hard for you to breath. The dandelion root and the nettles will help you get rid of some of it. I am going to put the chamber pot here near your bed, so it is easy to reach.”
Maire looked at her solemnly. “Och, lass, I’ve been on this earth long enough to know what’s happening to me. I told ye, ye can’t turn back time.”
Katherine sat beside Maire, taking hold of her hand and saying, “You are right. I can’t turn time back, but these things will help make you more comfortable for a while. I’ve left some dandelion root there on the table, I’m sure your husband can find more as you need it. You can tell him how I made it.”
“Ye are a good lass. What did ye say your name was?”
Katherine chuckled and answered simply, “Katherine.”
“Just Katherine, is it? Are ye the laird’s Katherine?”
“Aye, Maire, I am the laird’s Katherine.”
“Well, ye are a good lass, Katherine MacIan. That lad’s done well.”
Katherine smiled at her but before she could respond, someone knocked on the door. She opened it to find Turcuil looking for her. Turning back into the room, she said, “It has been lovely visiting with you, Maire, but I think my husband is ready to go. Now, remember what I told you and keep your feet up as much as you can.”
As Katherine rode away, she felt the sadness she always did when there is little to do for someone who is ill except make them more comfortable. She knew eventually the fluid building up would overcome the dear old woman, but in the meantime she would be able to breathe a bit easier. After that day, Katherine always traveled with her bag of medicinal supplies.
~*~
Not surprisingly, knowledge of Katherine’s skill as a healer spread very quickly at Duncurra. The clan had several midwives, but only Alan’s wife, Effie, had healing skills extending beyond stitching wounds. With eight children, Effie found it difficult to tend all the hurts and ills at Duncurra. It didn’t take long for the MacIan clan to turn to Katherine when they needed her skills. She was always willing to spend a few minutes chatting with them, celebrating their joys, or listening to their problems, and doing whatever she could to help. In this way Katherine learned a lot about the clan and the clan learned more about her. Soon her compassion won over even those who had been suspicious and mistrustful of a Lowlander.
Occasionally, when someone on an outlying farm needed a skilled healer, Niall took Katherine there. However, for the most part, the clansmen and women sought Katherine out at the keep. As their laird’s wife, she suspected they weren’t completely comfortable asking for her to come to them.
Late one morning, Katherine sat in the great hall reviewing the account books with Hendry. Caolin, one of the women who worked in the kitchen, rushed in and said, “My lady, I beg your pardon. Please, I need your help. I tried to find Effie, but she is delivering a bairn.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tis my sister’s child, she is terribly ill. She is coughing so much she can barely breathe. Kara lives in the village, can ye come?”
“Of course I’ll come, give me a minute to get my things. Hendry, can we finish this later?”