Heather for a Highlander by Gail MacMillan

Author:Gail MacMillan [MacMillan, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Small Town
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Glad to have completed her task, she remounted and turned her horse back up along the stream that led to the road. Surely, now, he’d see she was capable of being more than his servant, that she was worthy of being his medical assistant.

She had reached the road and was turning for the farm when she saw a wagon approaching, a tall, lean man she guessed was Tom Glen on the driver’s seat. Riding close behind were the doctor and his brother. As she came up to them and halted, they did the same.

“Did you deliver my message?” Doctor MacTavish’s face had lost none of its sternness.

“Yes. Benjamin Two Rivers said all will be ready by the time you arrive.” Glancing into the back of the wagon, she saw another man, Jack Glen she presumed, lying in a tangle of bedding. He was writhing and moaning. “Do you think it will help?”

“It helped me. Move on, Tom. We’ve no time to lose.” He nudged Wings past her. “I may not be back to the farm tonight…nor tomorrow, either. Do not go venturing away from the buildings on your own. Bears are fresh out of hibernation, and they’re hungry and not particular about what they make their next meal.”

“I’ll take care.” She watched as he walked his horse away from her.

Jamie touched his hat brim as he followed his brother. “Good morning to you, Peter.” He winked at her. “And thank you.”

She was left alone on the road to contemplate the doctor’s remark. “It helped me.” From what had he been suffering? And when?

****

Dawn was greying the sky as she struggled up on one elbow and shushed the dog. Someone was banging on the barred kitchen door.

“Lass, it’s me.” His voice came to her through her open window. “I’d be obliged if you’d hustle yourself down here and let me in.”

“Immediately, Doctor.” She scrambled out of bed, wrapped a quilt around her chemise, and scurried downstairs.

“Finally.” He stepped into the kitchen, and even in the poor light of early morning she could see his sweat-stained shirt and the weariness in his face. “I’m right tuckered and need my bed.”

“Was the cure successful for your friend?” she asked, as he bent to feel the teapot on the hook over the embers of the fire.

“Verrae. But then, I was sure it would be. It worked for me.”

“You had trouble with drink?” The idea had come to her in the night. She moved to put fresh wood into the hearth and take the teapot to the sideboard for refreshing.

“Not that it’s a concern of yours, but yes, I did. I went through a dark time in my life and was foolish enough to think I could find relief in a bottle. Only Jamie and Ben taking me to the sweat lodge of Ben’s people saved me. Otherwise I would have lost my life to alcohol.”

Although she longed to ask about the dark period in his life that had driven him to drink, she refrained.

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