Treasures of Skye by Tarah Scott & April Holthaus

Treasures of Skye by Tarah Scott & April Holthaus

Author:Tarah Scott & April Holthaus
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2018-02-11T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Seven

When Kaden carried Helena into Gregor’s Inn, a young maid he didn’t recognize cried out when she saw them. An older woman came running—the cook, Mrs. Hays.

She stopped short and her eyes widened. “Kaden, heaven help us.”

“Aye, Maggie,” he said. “I need a room.”

“What’s happened?” Maggie demanded.

“She’s hurt her ankle.” He nodded down at Helena, who blushed.

“Two years you have been gone, then ye show up with a wounded woman.” Maggie tsked, but he saw the pleasure in her eyes, and was relaxed a fraction. “Come along. I have a room on the second floor.”

She turned and he followed her down the hallway and up two flights of stairs. She took a key from her front pocket and opened the door to a modest room with a small bed to the left and a table near the fire.

“Set the lass on the bed and start a fire, Kaden,” Maggie said.

Kaden complied, then began building a fire.

Maggie pulled blankets from the chest at the bottom of the bed. “Child, ye are shivering.”

Kaden glanced over his shoulder. Maggie was unfastening Helena’s cloak. He returned his attention to the hearth, and by the time he had a fire roaring in the hearth, two lads arrived with a tub. Kaden rose and went to the table as they placed the tub in front of the fire.

“Ye are too kind, Mrs. Hays,” Helena said.

The older woman tsked. “We cannae have ye catching a chill.”

Maggie bustled out of the room as more lads appeared with buckets of steaming water.

Kaden crossed to where Helena sat and knelt on one knee. He looked up at her. “Your left ankle?”

Her cheeks pinked. She nodded. He grasped her left foot and unlaced the boot. Gently, he slid the boot from her foot and was relieved to find only mild swelling around the ankle. A hot bath and a good night’s rest would go a long way toward healing.

Maggie returned, a cloth and dish of soap in hand. “Go on now, Kaden. I will help the lass into the tub.”

Kaden grasped Helena’s other foot and removed the boot, then rose. “Are ye sure you dinnae need my help, lass?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Nae.”

He laughed.

Mrs. Hays pushed him back a pace. “No more trouble from you, now go on.”

He smiled at Helena, who suddenly looked uncertain. “I will be downstairs in the tavern, lass.”

She nodded, and Kaden went downstairs to the tavern. Half a dozen men sat at various tables. He chose a table in the corner farthest from the hearth and, a moment later, a large man emerged from a door behind the counter. His gaze scanned the room and halted on Kayden. He turned, pulled two mugs from a shelf, picked up a pitcher off the counter and strode to where Kaden sat.

He set the mugs and pitcher on the table, sat in the chair opposite Kayden, and filled both mugs with ale. He pushed one mug toward Kayden, picked up his mug, then leaned back in the chair and waited.



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