Gwyneth sat on the bed with her husband, almost lying next to him, her stump clearly in view. Avelina and Micheil each saton nearby stools, which Micheil promptly vacated to offer to her. “My thanks, Micheil.” He found another one and brought it close.
She leaned over to give Gwyneth a hug. “I’m pleased to see you, Gwyn. We all needed you to stay with us a bit longer. It was a tough decision for you, and I’m sure it was difficult, but I’m glad you are here. He will need you.”
“Will he, Brenna? I don’t know if he’s going to make it. Please help him. Eli ran out of the fever potion, and she needs more poultice for his wound. It’s oozing terribly and I can’t stop it.” Gwyneth had been around Brenna enough times to know what to do for most any injury or sickness.
Brenna waved her hand, her eyes going to the man who had brought her to the love of her life, Quade Ramsay. Logan had been a thorn in her side many times, his gruff exterior often too much, but she still loved him with all her heart.
She took in the pallor of his skin, set her hand to his wound to check for warmth, and peeked under the bandage, assessing the fine stitches Eli had placed. Then she felt his life’s force pulsing through him, set her ear to his chest to listen to his heart and his lungs. She poked at his belly, checked his arms and legs for any other wounds, then cupped his cheek and said, “Logan, wake up.”
No reaction.
Her assessment finished, she said to Micheil. “Be prepared. You may have to hold him down.”
Micheil grinned, picking up quickly on her meaning, and said, “I’m ready.” But Micheil also knew his brother well. He leaned forward onto the end of the bed.
Brenna moved closer to his ear. “Logan Ramsay, I’ve come a long way, and I have a sore arse from riding a horse so far, so you better wake up to acknowledge me.”
Naught. Just a wee twitch of his jaw.
Brenna pulled the linen coverlet back and promptly pinched Logan’s nipple as hard as she could.
Logan sat up with a bark. “God’s bones, woman! What the hell are you trying to do to me? Some healer you are. That hurts like hell.”
“More than your wound? Because I hoped it would.” Brenna winked at him.
“You are mean for a healer. Aye. It hurts more than my wound right now. Where did you learn that cruel trick?” He gave her his worst frown.
“Good, I’m glad it hurts.”
He fell back, rubbing his sore spot before closing his eyes, and waved at her in dismissal.
Brenna decided to try a different tactic. She knew exactly how to infuriate her brother-in-law. “I came for my book. The one you stole from me so long ago. Get your arse up out of that bed, Logan Ramsay, and return my dear mother’s book now. You hid it again.”
Logan shot up and glared at her. “I gave you that book long ago, and you know it. I set it at your feet, or have you forgotten already, you old bat?”
Brenna smiled and said, “Greetings, Logan.”
He smirked and said, “Greetings, Brenna. What the hell are you doing here? And can’t you just leave me be? I was sleeping.”
“Nay, no more sleeping. I have your brother here, and he’ll hold you down if I ask him to. You know I will.”
“Shite, Micheil. Why are you here?”
“To help Brenna. Are you faking it, dear brother?”
“Did you see my wound? I’m not pretending.”
Micheil snorted. “Please. Are you trying to convince me that it’s the first wound you’ve ever had? Are you a wee bairn in your old age? Quade gave you far worse wounds before you beddedyour first lass.” Micheil let out a roar at his own jest, and Logan chuckled with him, gripping his side in pain.
Gwyneth slapped Logan’s arm. “Sit up or I’ll grab the other nipple, Logan.”
Brenna said, “Here’s how this is going to go, Logan. And you know better than to argue with me. You’re going to sit up and drink this potion. Then I’m sending Lina out to get you some oatmeal, and if we have to feed you with a bairn’s utensil, we will. You know better. Micheil will hold you down, and Gwyneth will have the pleasure of shoving it down your throat.”
Gwyneth looked at Brenna and said, “I’ll share the joy with you, Brenna. You and I have had to put up with the Ramsay men for a long time. We’ll take turns.”
Lina giggled.
Logan looked at his sister and said, “I don’t find their humor the least bit funny, Lina. Have you no sympathy for your favorite brother?”
