Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Sara’s eyes fluttered as she struggled to open them, but failed.
Willow took her hand. “You can squeeze my hand to let me know you hear me.”
She was relieved to feel a slight squeeze. “Your grandson is here. He’ll take your hand in a moment. He’s getting a fire going and you’ll soon be warm and in bed. But first I’m going to see to your wound.”
Another light squeeze to her hand told Willow the woman understood, a good sign.
From what Willow could see the shoulder wound had stopped bleeding, but blood still trickled from a wound to her side. She needed to get both cleaned before she could see what damage it had left.
Willow looked to her husband. “Lift her gently and place her on the bed just as gently.”
Slatter took hold of his grandmother’s hand before taking her in his arms. “You must get well, Seanmhair. I want to you meet Willow not only the woman who will heal you, but my wife.”
The older woman’s eyes fluttered madly, trying desperately to open them.
“Heal, Seanmhair, heal, so that you can meet the beautiful woman I married,” he said and gently lifted her in his arms.
Once on the bed, Willow went to work, sending Slatter to collect snow in a bucket and melt it by the fire. When he returned and placed the snow-filled bucket by the hearth, she took his hand and stepped over by the door.
She spoke in a whisper to him. “The shoulder wound isn’t too deep and has stopped bleeding. I have some, hopefully enough, sphagnum moss to pack the wound. It’s the side wound that concerns me, though I believe if seared, she may survive. I have some fluellen to help treat her fever, but I fear it will not be enough. Do you have a healer at your home?”
“No, there is no healer there, and not much of a home either,” Slatter admitted.
“I’ll do my best, but if we got her to my home, she’d have a better chance of surviving. For now, I need your help in getting her out of those bloody garments and searing the wound.”
“Whatever you need from me,” he said, thinking he might not have any choice but to take her to Willow’s home and if his grandmother knew the consequences to him if he did that, she would tell him to let her die. And he would not let that happen.
Willow couldn’t get over the tenderness of her husband toward his grandmother or how he shared her pain, his face grimacing every time she winced. But that was not all she saw in his dark eyes. She saw anger bubbling there and it was obvious that a time would come when he would find the one who did this to his grandmother and she had no doubt he would kill the culprit.
When the time came to sear the wound closed, Slatter bent over his grandmother, kissed her cheek, and whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry to cause you more pain.”
Willow took hold of the old woman’s hand and was surprised at the strength of the fingers that locked tight around hers.
The old woman let out a cry and her eyes opened wide and before a faint grabbed hold of her, her eyes found her grandson, and she smiled.
“I’m going to kill the bastard that did this to her,” Slatter said as if committing to a vow that would be kept at all cost.
“Help me get her settled comfortably before she wakes and suffers more pain from us moving her,” Willow said and Slatter didn’t hesitate to help.
When they finished, Slatter sat beside his grandmother on the bed, holding her hand while Willow went through her healing pouch to see what she had left.
“What’s wrong?” Slatter asked, catching the troubled look on his wife’s face.
“I have less than I thought to help your grandmother. I gave most of what I had to Roanna for Erna and to Crofton for his grandmother. Sara needs more than I have to help her heal and her healing is going to take time. She will need attention and care, and she is not safe here. What if the culprit returns?”
“I have thought the same myself, though what I can’t understand is why someone would do this to her.” He shook his head.
“Something else bothers you,” Willow said, seeing the troubling look in his dark eyes.
Slatter looked down at his grandmother, sleeping peacefully, and though he should be relieved, he wasn’t. She was far too pale and looked more like death had claimed her than healing sleep.
He turned to his wife. “As you see for yourself, my grandmother is a wee bit of a thing. She couldn’t defend herself against a warrior let alone one with a weapon.” He chuckled. “Not that she wouldn’t try. She’s a feisty one.”