Highland Devil (Murray Family #22)(12)

"Ye brought a cat?" Sigimor said.

"This is Freya," Mora said. "She is my cat. Do ye wish her away from here?"

"No, of course not," said Jolene, ignoring her husband's frown. "I love cats, especially little ones."

"So why are ye running about my woods, Gybbon?" asked Sigimor. "I shouldnae have Murrays skipping through my woods."

"I was bringing Mora here. Her parents told her to come to ye if there  was trouble, and there was. Someone killed her parents as they were  coming home from the market."

Sigimor looked at Mora and asked, "Who were your parents, lass?"

"They were Rona and David Ogilvy." She saw a brief flash of sadness  touch his face and was both saddened by the news she had just given him  and pleased he had remembered her parents.

"A shame, lass. Your mother was very prompt in replying to any question I  wrote her about when I was raising my brothers and sister. She would  have stayed to help me if I had asked even though she ne'er mentioned  it, but there was great comfort in kenning I had someone I could ask who  would answer promptly."         

     



 

"I think she knew that."

"Who killed them?"

"My cousin Robert. His brothers ride with him, but I begin to think they havenae had anything to do with killing anyone."

"Then why are they riding with him?"

"I think they ken he is mad and wish to keep him from doing something  even a nearly dead laird's son cannae escape harsh punishment for."

"Is he mad?" Sigimor asked Gybbon, and Mora used the chance to help  herself to some food, carefully cutting up a bit of meat for Freya.

"Such a pretty little cat," said Jolene as she sat on the other side of the animal and gently stroked her fur.

"And the best warning bell I have e'er had," said Gybbon.

"Warning bell?" asked Jolene, staring at the cat, who calmly kept eating.

"Aye, she lets us ken when anyone is approaching on horseback. She  growls or hisses when someone is coming, looks in the direction they are  coming from, too. We now ken she hisses when it is Mora's cousins."

"Why would she do that?" asked Sigimor as he watched the cat his wife was cooing over.

"She is verra little for a grown cat and everything frightens her. She  kens what is a danger and avoids it. In truth, she stays with me all the  time, ever since I beat off a hawk that thought she looked tasty. I  suspicion she also senses my alarm."

"Smart cat, and those are words I would ne'er have thought to say. Why  are your cousins trying to kill ye? And why did they kill your parents?"

"They want what was left to my father. I fear they also killed my brothers, Niall and David."

"Ye dinnae ken for certain?"

"Nay, they were in France to fight and gain some coin, but they have nay  returned and ne'er wrote to my mother and father. Verra unlike them."

Sigimor kept asking questions and Mora did her best to answer though she  was feeling deeply tired, fighting to keep her eyes open even as her  head ached and her wound throbbed. When he turned his questions on  Gybbon, she turned to Jolene. She hoped the woman knew something about  healing as she knew she needed something done soon.

"Do ye ken anything about healing?" she asked softly.

"Aye. Do ye need something?"

"I got a wee wound when running from Robert and I begin to think it needs something."

"Oh." Jolene felt her forehead and frowned. "Yes, I believe ye do."

"Has she got a fever?" Sigimor asked.

Jolene sighed. "Nay. She just needs a little woman's aid. 'Tis just  habit to feel for a fever. There is nothing I can catch here, so you can  just go back to pummeling Gybbon for information."

Gybbon watched Mora collect her bag, let Freya in it, and then follow  Jolene up the stairs. "Why are ye fretting about fever? It hasnae struck  here again, has it?"

"Nay, but I admit, I fret o'er illness," Sigimor answered.

"No one has better reason. Is that why ye are here? There is illness at the keep?"

"Aye, and I am certain Jolene is right, that it is nothing of any great  consequence, but I rushed her and the bairns here as fast as I could.  Fergus will come to tell me when it is gone."

"Good. It is that time of the year, Sigimor. I doubt it is anything truly bad."

"I ken it. Annoys me as I didnae ken I was worried so about such things  until I had my bairns and a wife. Now, we can talk more plainly about  this trouble the lass has. I am saddened by her parents' death as her  mother was a great help, yet wise enough to wait until asked and nay  pushing herself into the family. And now I am here to talk of these  murderous cousins and sort them out. 'Tis the least I can do for how she  helped me and mine."

Gybbon grinned, helped himself to some more cider, and proceeded to tell  Sigimor everything he knew. He also told him all he and Mora had  guessed at from overhearing the cousins' conversations. The questions  Sigimor asked and some of the ideas he threw out told Gybbon that Mora's  parents had chosen well when considering their daughter's safety.





Chapter Six


"Oh, my dear," said Jolene when Mora disrobed enough to show her the  wound. "You are very close to being badly infected by this wound. Lie  down. I fear the first thing I must do is close it."

"I ken it." Mora lay down on the bed and winced as she looked at the  wound; it looked redder than it had, was still open, and there was a  little swelling around it. "I thought that it might need a stitch or  two, but I just couldnae sew my own skin shut."

"No, I can fully understand that. This will all hurt," Jolene said as she began to gather the things she needed to work.         

     



 

"Ye dinnae have any soothing words?"

"No, and if I tried them on any of these mad Camerons, I would be  laughed at or seriously lectured about lying. I do have to cleanse this  as much as I can and that will hurt. Mayhap that will make the rest seem  less unpleasant. Myself? I will cry like a tiny bairn if I am even told  a wound on me needs stitching."

"I have ne'er been stitched up but all my brothers have been, and they  tried to make me believe it was naught, just a wee pinch."

Setting down a bowl of hot, soapy water, Jolene wet the clean rag she  had and then placed a cloth beneath Mora in the area of the wound. She  then grabbed a couple of long strips of cloth to tie around Mora's  wrists, tying the other ends to the small posts that were at the head of  the bed. She met Mora's very wide eyes and suddenly laughed.

"I should have warned you. I do that so I do not get punched in the face when something I do hurts the one I am working on."

"People have punched you?" Mora worried about what she was about to suffer.

"Oh my, yes, and when you get punched by a Cameron, it really hurts, and  then I must act as if it doesnae hurt much to keep Sigimor from hurting  them for hurting me." She wet the cloth, wrung it out, and without  another word, she started to wash Mora's wound. "Try not to scream or  curse or I will have the men in here and I think you would like to avoid  that."

Her teeth clamped tightly together against the urge to do just that,  Mora nodded. She would laugh later over her thought that she could have  done this herself. No one could inflict such pain on themselves. By the  time Jolene was done cleaning the wound and had begun to thread a  needle, Mora was panting and could feel the sweat dripping down her  face. After the pain of having her wound cleaned, however, the pinch of  the needle was nothing. When Jolene finished, spread some surprisingly  nice-smelling cream on her, and began to bind her wound, Mora could feel  that her face was still wet with sweat and she was panting.

After untying her hands, Jolene held Mora steady as she slowly sat up  enough to drink some cool cider. "I truly hate the pain caused by so  much of healing work. Telling myself I have helped does not always work  to rid me of that."

"Ye helped," Mora said in a soft, hoarse voice. "I ken it will feel better once the pain of tending it eases away."

Getting the cloth wet with cool water, Jolene wiped off Mora's face. "It  was bad. Mora. Ye were very close to it spreading the poison all  through you. I will warn you, you may fall under a bit of a fever for a  few days. Hope it is not too bad."

"I dinnae have a few days."

"What do you mean?"

"My cousins are going hunting for my youngest brother. He is just seven.  We heard how Robert plans to get his hands on poor Andrew. He plans to  get himself named guardian of the boy. I ken he will torment the boy  until he can find a way to kill him without anyone kenning he was the  one who did it."

"Sad to say, I know just the sort of men you speak of. It reminds one of  when a cat corners a mouse. Poor thing tries to flee, but the cat keeps  it cornered and toys with it a while more before killing it. I believe  it is one of the reasons some people truly hate cats, that moment of  what appears to people to be naught but a deep mean. Your cat is lovely.  I want a small one like that. I dinnae suppose she has kittens often."