Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Kirk smiled and did as she bid, closing the door behind him.
“Tell me he will be all right,” Fiona asked of her sister.
“The arrow left no damage. We need only worry about fever.”
“You will watch over him?” Fiona asked, gently brushing Tarr’s hair off his forehead with her fingers. His brow was damp with sweat. She had watched him struggle to maintain his dignity and strength, refusing to scream or display any sign of weakness, and never taking his eyes off her.
“Your feelings for him grow.”
Fiona bent down by the side of the bed and ran a finger over his warm lips. “I do not know why I feel the way I do. He shows me no such feelings in return, though when we kiss it is different. I can sense how very much he wants me. But then he is a man with needs. And I am a woman who needs love.”
“Perhaps there is a common ground somewhere for you both.”
“Love versus need?” Fiona said with a laugh, and stood.
“Need turning to love?” Aliss asked with a lift of her brow.
“I think it is in fate’s hands.”
“Then is it fate who brought us here?” Aliss questioned.
“We will have to wait and see,” Fiona said, walking to the door. “I know not how or why I feel as I do about Tarr. I only know that when I watched the arrow pierce his flesh, it tore at my heart. For a brief moment I did not want to know life without him. The feeling and thought confuse me, and if this should prove to be love then it is very strange indeed, for there is more hurt and pain to love than there is joy and peace.”
Chapter 13
A chill wind blew down from the north and many felt it was the breath of the barbarians bearing down on them, when it was simply a reminder of winter’s approach.
Remnants of last night’s attack, however, did little to remind them that the wind was harmless. Roofs bore holes from the fiery torches, fences were broken, their pieces scattered; the storehouse was ransacked, and the wounded lay suffering. Fear needed to be eased in the hearts and minds of the clanswomen and anger assuaged in the men.
The best way to do that was to keep everyone busy, and that is what Fiona had been doing since last night. She got not a wink of sleep; she was much too busy seeing to clan duties for a healing chieftain. She encouraged those in need and displayed confidence to those looking for leadership, which she did with ease and grace. And her efforts were met with appreciation. Several damaged roofs were already repaired, fences were being mended, stock being taken of the storehouse, and the wounded were finally finding relief from their pain, thanks to the brew Aliss had the women make and administer.
Fiona indeed had things well in hand most impressively by the time Tarr woke, when he was forced to eat breakfast by Aliss, made to wear a sling with her threat of death if he should remove it, and then before he left his chamber, warned he was not to overtax himself.
From the steps of the keep, Tarr stared in amazement at the amount of repair work that had been accomplished. He learned that guard posts had been doubled at his north borders and established along route so that any news of impending attack would be learned of in a more timely matter. He stood speechless.
“I tell you, Tarr, she—they—whoever commands in your stead is worthy of leadership,” Kirk said. “She rallied the people, not waiting for someone to take command. With many in shock and still frightened, they were drawn to her courage and strength and followed willingly, and gratefully. I saw no reason to remind her she was not chieftain, for she certainly possessed the skills of a knowledgeable laird.”
Tarr watched Fiona scoop a little puppy up that had peeked its head out of a barrel. She hugged the black pup to her and then deposited him in the lap of a little girl, Grenda, who looked to have spent the night crying. She laughed when the puppy licked her face and she hugged him tight. They were soon romping around together and other children joined in.
When Fiona caught sight of Tarr, she waved, smiled and hurried over to him.
“I need to help with the thatching,” Kirk said and took off.
Tarr was glad for the time alone with Fiona. He had begun to believe more and more that it was Fiona he had spent his days with, had kissed so often, and looked so forward to seeing.
She had to be Fiona; he could not be wrong. Though just a feeling, it was a feeling that overwhelmed him. Then there was that lopsided smile of hers, which was not always visible and which lead him to believe that perhaps a distinction did exist between the twins.