She can save his son, but can she resist the Highland warrior?

A Highland Feuding story

Famed healer Anna MacKenzie is moved by Davidh of Clan Cameron’s request to help his ailing young son.

She wants to help—and the commander has unknowingly provided the introduction to the clan she’s been looking for. But Anna has a secret, one that could jeopardize the fast-growing, heated passion between them…

A Highland Feuding miniseries

Book 1—Stolen by the Highlander Book 2—The Highlander’s Runaway Bride Book 3—Kidnapped by the Highland Rogue Book 4—Claiming His Highland Bride Book 5—A Healer for the Highlander

“A cleverly woven tale with lots of action and surprises, guaranteed to keep Highland fans happy.”

—RT Book Reviews on Claiming His Highland Bride

“Another fast paced, non-stop action, mesmerizing riveting starcrossed romantic adventure!”

—Tartan Book Reviews on Kidnapped by the Highland Rogue

TERRI BRISBIN is wife to one, mother of three, and dental hygienist to hundreds—when not living the life of a glamorous romance author. She was born, raised, and is still living in the southern New Jersey suburbs. Terri’s love of history has led her to write time-travel romances and historical romances set in Scotland and England.

Also by Terri Brisbin

A Highland Feuding miniseries

Stolen by the Highlander

The Highlander’s Runaway Bride

Kidnapped by the Highland Rogue

Claiming His Highland Bride

A Healer for the Highlander

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

A Healer for the Highlander

Terri Brisbin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07422-3

A HEALER FOR THE HIGHLANDER

© 2018 Theresa S. Brisbin

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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I lost two of the most important women in my life

this last year—my sister and my mother-in-law.

They were both amazing, strong, loving women

and I will miss them terribly.

To MaryAnn, my sister, who fought valiantly to live

but died with grace. Mar, I miss you.

To the other Theresa Brisbin, my mother-in-law,

who gave me her eldest son to marry and who was

one of my very first readers. Mom, I learned so much

from you and appreciated your help and guidance

all these years. You’ve earned your rest, lady.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank the Editorial staff at Mills & Boon for all their support, patience and understanding as I wrote this book. Thanks to Linda Fildew, my editor, for always being kind and having my back, and to Bryony Green for understanding the difficult challenges and losses that life has thrown at me these last two years.

Thanks to my agent, Pam Hopkins, who calmly answered my panicked calls and emails as I wrote this book. And for her guidance and support while I struggled to find the story that grief had almost destroyed.

And a special thanks to Susan Zen-Ruffinen, my stalwart companion, who travelled with me to Scotland to find all the Clan Cameron places. She became my research assistant, my videographer (on some hysterical travel videos!) and allowed me to take any turn-off on any road in the Highlands and Islands except one—Bealach na Bà, over the mountains to Applecross! Next time, Susan!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Extract

About the Publisher

Prologue

The Lands of Clan Cameron, Loch Arkaig, Scotland —the year of Our Lord 1358

Anna Mackenzie watched as Malcolm walked to the edge of the falls and began the long and dangerous climb down the slippery rocks. She tried to stop herself, but she ran to the edge when his head disappeared and she kept him in sight until he reached the bottom. He turned and waved to her before moving off into the forest towards the village and keep near the loch.

Sighing as she wrapped her arms around herself, Anna closed her eyes then and allowed the memories of the last hours to surround her once more. They had laughed and run and kissed...and loved. She loved him more than her own life.

For Malcolm, the only son of Euan Cameron, had braved the rumours and stories about the witch of Caig Falls and come to find the truth. And he’d found Anna, not her mother. She sighed again for they’d found love. It mattered not if she was the daughter of the ‘witch’ and he the son of the chieftain. It mattered not if they were young. It simply mattered that they were in love and would be together. They made vows to be together and he’d given her a sign of that promise which she carried now close to her heart.

After several moments, the sound of footsteps behind her shook her from her reverie and she turned to find her mother there in the shadows staring at her. How long had she been there?

‘Anna, I need your help,’ her mother said. Had she seen Malcolm there? From her tone, Anna could not tell. Her mother did not wait for her agreement or refusal, but simply turned and walked back into the forest.

She followed her mother back along the hidden path to the garden she tended in a sheltered place in the thick growth of trees there. Though she could see it plainly, no one else, not the villagers who came searching or Malcolm ever seemed to find it. Until he did.

‘We must finish picking the last of these,’ her mother said, pointing to several rows of herbs and other plants.

‘You have plenty of that already, Mam,’ Anna said. ‘We dried it just a fortnight ago.’

‘We will need more,’ her mother said, walking over and picking up one of the baskets that always waited there. She held it out to Anna and motioned for her to begin.

It did not make sense. There was a timing to harvesting the plants and herbs that Lara Mackenzie depended on for healing and treating ailments and afflictions. No one knew that better or more accurately than her mother and yet, here she was, picking things ahead of their time.

* * *

Anna did her mother’s bidding and, over the next hours, they gathered everything that was at or near readiness. A strange wariness filled Anna as night came and her mother continued to gather and sort and wrap all the plants and herbs they’d collected. When her mother sat at the wide, worn table and just stared into the dark corner of the cottage, Anna went to her and finally asked the question that had haunted her all day.

‘Are we leaving here, Mam?’

‘Aye, on the morrow.’

The few and simple words tore Anna’s heart apart. Her hands shook as she thought on the possibilities facing her now. Had her mother discovered her secret? Her secrets? Anna had been so careful not to bring Malcolm close to the cottage or the hidden garden. What did her mother know?

‘Why? Why would you leave this all behind? Where will we go?’ Anna stood and walked to the window. Resting her hands on the shutter, she stared past the rough wood and out at the forest surrounding their dwelling, waiting on her mother’s explanation.

‘Ye’ve been caught, Anna. Are ye three months gone now?’

Anna’s hands slid down over her belly in a movement she could not stop. She did not want to turn to face her mother and see the disappointment and disapproval in her gaze. But when she did she saw sadness, a touch of pity, but mostly the glimmer of love there.

‘Aye, Mam. Or close to it.’

‘When were ye going to tell me, lass?’

Anna swallowed against the tightness in her throat. She’d never kept secrets from her mother...until Malcolm. Keeping the knowledge of him and their love felt right. Or it had before this moment. ‘I would have told ye, Mam. He... Mal said he would tell his father and then we could...’

‘Malcolm Cameron, the chieftain’s son?’ Anna nodded. ‘Ye thought to marry him? The chieftain’s son would marry the penniless bastard daughter of the witch of Caig Falls? Ye ken better than that, Anna.’

Her mother’s words forced her to see the harsh and stark situation as it was—not as she’d hoped or pretended it could be. It was much more romantic to believe his promise that they would be together and the vows they’d made to each other. To believe that the child they’d made would be welcomed by his kin. To believe that she would be, too. Anna let out a sigh, releasing all the pretences she’d built around the sad truth of the matter.

Her mother walked to her and gathered her close. ‘All will be well, lass.’ They stood in silence for a few minutes until her mother released her, clutching her by the shoulders and searching her face. ‘My kin will take us in until we sort this out.’

Anna nodded, fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I want to tell him before we leave.’

‘Nay. ’Tis too dangerous. If he kens, he will do something foolish and we will face more trouble than we could manage. I have seen this before, Anna. If a woman is called a witch, which is what Euan Cameron will do to me before his clan if it suits his purposes, she dies. Our only choice is to leave. Leave now. Leave quietly.’

Anna would have argued and protested, but the stony expression in her mother’s eyes told her she would fail to soften or sway her decision. The happiness she’d felt, the sense of love and anticipation, fled and a deep despair filled her. Her child would never know their father or their kin. Anna shivered as a wave of dread passed through her. Somehow, in that terrible, sad moment, she kenned she would never see Malcolm again. Never hold him. Never love him.

* * *

The next days and weeks passed in a blur as Anna and her mother packed and fled the glen and their home above Caig Falls for the north. Her mother’s kin, the Mackenzies, did take them in and her child, a boy, was born among them six months later. When word reached them of Malcolm’s death at the hands of Brodie Mackintosh three years later, Anna remembered the portent of it she’d felt that day.

And she mourned his death and the end of all the possibilities they’d shared. Mayhap one day she would return to Cameron lands and give her son, Malcolm’s son, the opportunity to be part of his father’s kith and kin.

Mayhap one day...

Chapter One

Achnacarry Castle on Loch Arkaig —spring, the year of Our Lord 1371

Davidh Cameron stood at his laird’s back, listening and watching as the chieftain of their clan heard grievances and pleas. As the man who led the warriors of the Clan Cameron here on their southern lands, it was his duty to attend these hearings. But, more than once, he glanced up as someone or another arrived in the hall and approached in haste.

He let himself relax only when he saw that it was not someone from the village. When his laird stopped in the middle of speaking to a man and looked at him, Davidh understood his actions had been more apparent than he’d hoped.

‘Ye can go,’ the laird said, nodding towards the doorway. ‘This does not need your attention.’

His stomach clenched then, as he realised his inattention had been noticed and acknowledged. Davidh leaned closer to Robert Cameron’s ear.

‘They will send word if I am needed, my lord. I will see to my duties here.’ Davidh waited for a reply and, when none came, he stepped back to his place behind the chieftain’s chair.

He did not wish to shirk his duties. As commander of the clan’s warriors, his place was at his chieftain’s back during his official meetings and when he travelled or carried out other duties. The last thing Davidh wanted was to be absent when he was needed by his laird.

The business of the clan went on for some time and yet Davidh found himself distracted. What if Colm worsened? What if his breathing became even more laboured than it had been last night? It seemed that the boy failed more with each passing day. What would he do if the worst happened? How could he survive if he lost his son after losing his wife and more recently his own parents?

The last years seemed to be filled with only death and destruction for Davidh and his kin. The only good thing that had happened was the ascension of Robert Cameron to the high chair of the Clan Cameron. Thankfully, the laird’s brother Gilbert had ruled for only a few short years, but those years had driven their clan to the brink of a bigger conflict with not only their long-time enemies the Mackintoshes, but also the larger Chattan Confederation. And Gilbert had managed to target his brother in his attempts to undermine Robert’s possible claim.

In the end, it had been a Mackintosh raised as a Cameron who had brought Gilbert down and had placed the clan back on steadier ground with the powerful Mackintoshes and even with the King. In the last year or so, Robert had established himself as a fair chieftain with a good sense of how to oversee his people. The self-serving and utter ruthlessness of Gilbert had been followed by a man content at stewarding his clan’s lands and people while safeguarding them, too.

The sure and steady footsteps across the stone floor broke into his thoughts and Davidh looked towards the person who approached. His worst fears filled him, making it now hard for him to breathe. Colm? Without waiting for the woman to reach the dais, the laird motioned to him.

‘Go.’

Davidh was down the steps before Margaret, the blacksmith’s daughter, could reach him. ‘Is he worse then?’

‘Aye,’ she whispered.

The worried expression on the lass’s face told him more than he wished to know. Davidh ran then, leaving the girl behind and not waiting for her to catch him. Colm could be... He could die this time. The words of some remembered prayers began to flow in his thoughts as he forced the pleas to the Almighty to replace everything else.

Colm was the last person he had and he could not lose him.

Not the boy. Dear God, not the boy.

He did not remember making his way out of the keep or yard or through the gates and village. Davidh found himself at the door to the blacksmith’s cottage and he stopped. Fear kept him from reaching up to knock. Fear paralysed his own breath and made his heart pound within his chest. How could he face the death of his son if that was what awaited him inside?

Davidh tamped all the fears down as he had for months and years and knocked before lifting the latch. Slowly, as he offered one final prayer up, he opened the door and looked for his son. Colm lay on a pallet in the corner near the hearth. The boy was almost lost in a cocoon of blankets and all Davidh could see was the pale face and bluish lips that spoke of a recent attack. He stared now, trying to discern if his son lived or had died.

‘Come in,’ Suisan whispered as she opened the door wider for him to enter. ‘He is sleeping now, puir wee laddie. Exhausted from...well, ye ken what he faces when the spells come on him.’

Aye, Davidh understood the terrible attacks that stole his son’s ability to breathe and the racking coughs that strained his muscles, leaving behind bruised ribs from the ferocity of the spasms.

But Colm lived. He’d survived another attack of the breathing disease that had struck him down on a more frequent basis in the last few months. And no tisane or poultice or brew from the last healer had helped. Colm worsened with each bout and Davidh understood that, one day, he would not make it through.

This day, though, Colm lived.

‘I would not have bothered ye this time, but I feared...the worst. I have never seen him like this.’ She nodded at his son.

‘I thank you for caring for him, Suisan.’

The stout woman nodded and then gathered her own daughter in her embrace when Margaret arrived there. Davidh stood over his son, watching and assessing every breath the boy’s frail body pulled in and let out. Running his hands through his hair, Davidh wondered how much more Colm could endure.

‘Margaret, take this to yer father,’ Suisan said. She released her daughter and handed her a small sack. It seemed a strange thing to do, but Davidh watched as the girl obeyed without question. When they were alone but for his son, Suisan walked closer to him. ‘I want to suggest something to ye though I have only rumours to go on for now.’

‘Go on.’ Davidh shrugged. ‘I have always heeded your counsel, Suisan.’

‘There is talk of the witch’s return to Caig Falls.’

Of anything the woman could say, this was completely unexpected.

‘The witch?’

‘Aye, ye ken the stories that have been told for years of the witch living above Caig Falls.’

‘I ken the stories, but have not heard mention of her since...’ Since he himself was but a lad and his best friend Malcolm claimed to have found her. ‘For a long time now.’

‘She was not a witch, but a wise woman, ye ken. She disappeared some years ago and has not been heard of since. But, a few days ago, one of the lads climbing the falls fell and a woman saw to his injury before sending him home.’ Suisan stared at him then. ‘I think she has returned.’

‘You think she could help Colm?’

‘Ye have tried everything else in yer power to try, Davidh. Why not see if she can?’

Suisan knelt at Colm’s side and smoothed the blankets over his frail form. He’d been ill for so long that he was smaller than most lads his age.

‘I will seek her out.’ Davidh smiled and nodded. He felt better knowing he had some kind of plan. The possibility that something or someone could help his son lifted his spirits for that moment and gave him purpose.

‘If ye have duties to see to, I can still tend him.’ Suisan stood then. ‘Come and join us for supper. Ye can take him home for the night then.’

Davidh watched the shallow rise and fall of Colm’s chest for a short time. It seemed even and strong enough for now and every hour that his son did not struggle for breath was a good one. Davidh nodded at Suisan. ‘I should return to the castle.’

‘Go then!’ she said, waving him out. ‘I suspect he will sleep most of the day now.’

Davidh returned to the keep, knowing that Suisan would take good and thorough care of Colm. But, with his sister married and moved to Edinburgh, his father and, more recently, his mother deceased and Mara gone these last three years, he realised this was not a solution to his problem. What he needed was a strong and healthy son.

* * *

Anna Mackenzie stood at the top of the falls, a short distance from the cottage she’d reclaimed, and stared down to the bottom. Memories washed over her, memories made more bittersweet by the knowledge that she would never see Malcolm again. Oh, she had not fooled herself into thinking that being here would be easy, but she owed it to her son...to their son.

Could she do this? Could she live here as her mother had all those years ago? The similarities she noticed over the last few years between her mother’s life and hers were a bit unnerving. Especially as she stood here now while her child explored the hillside and area around the cottage. Had it truly been ten-and-three years since she had stood here in this very place and dreamed of a future with the man she loved?

Suddenly she felt much older than her years.

Iain came around the cottage and she watched his approach. A pang of guilt rushed through her as she realised he was a handful of years off the age she’d been when she’d met his father...and loved him. Iain kenned little about Malcolm other than the barest of details she needed to tell him to pacify his growing curiosity. That interest had spurred her on to return here and seek out his father’s kin. She owed her son and his father at least that.

Anna waved the boy over to her side and pointed down to the bottom, near the pool that gathered in the waters of the falls.

‘They call that the “Witch’s Pool”. Many have tried to climb that path along the edge to reach the top.’ Anna traced the path with her extended hand, showing it to her son. ‘They never see the true path that begins over there in that copse near the large rock.’

‘And my father did?’ Iain asked.

He was at that age between childhood and manhood and hungered for knowledge of his origin. He needed a father, someone to guide him on those final steps that she could not. She’d refused a few offers of marriage since his birth, always knowing deep inside that she wanted him to know his own people. She’d always known that this day would come. Smiling at him, she nodded as she noticed that he’d gained another few inches and now stood taller than she did.

‘Aye. But not before trying the slippery one a few times.’

Iain’s laughter rang out through the trees and she once more noticed the resemblance to his father. Was it there or had she just made herself believe she remembered so many little details about the short relationship? Did her memory reveal things in the way she wanted to see them?

‘Look, Mam.’ Iain pointed into the distance at the road that led to the falls from the loch to the south.

A man rode towards the falls. She had wondered how long it would take for her presence here to be revealed when she’d helped the lad days ago. Here was her answer. She let out a sigh and shook her head. Now, they would come as they had before, some seeking the witch while others came simply for the challenge of climbing the falls.

When the man slowed on the road and glanced up at the falls, Anna drew her son back into the shadows of the thick forest here at the top. They could not be heard over the crashing waters of the falls, but if the light fell just right through the trees, they could be seen. And she did not wish that yet.

She had tasks to finish, plants to sort and the weeds to clear from the garden before she would be ready to begin offering her services to the villagers here. Her mother had taught her the knowledge of herbs and plants before she’d passed two years ago. Anna had been content to remain among the Mackenzies until that day, then the restlessness began. The news of the Camerons’ recent upheaval and new chieftain only confirmed her decision that it was time. Gilbert Cameron’s reputation as a ruthless man had kept her away, but his demise and his older brother’s installation as chieftain drew her here.

It was time.

‘Have a care, Iain,’ she warned as her son walked away. ‘Until we know if we are welcome here.’

Her son nodded and then crept off into the forest, exploring as lads did when they found a new place. No doubt he would bring home some fowl or rabbit for supper in his explorations. His hunting skills along with his ability to accept and to adjust to new situations surprised her, but she thanked the Almighty her son had them. It was easier to move as they must and not have to deal with a resistant boy of his age.

Anna returned to the cottage and began the daunting task of cleaning it. Once cleaned she could organise the rest—the plants and supplies. Time sped along as she accomplished many of the tasks she must before day’s end. The crunching of twigs and leaves outside her opened door warned her of Iain’s approach.

‘Good day.’

Anna glanced up to find a tall man standing at her door. His height and breadth almost blocked it completely as he stood there outside. As she walked closer, she realised he was crouching down to look inside the cottage door, which was too short for him.

It was the man they’d seen below, walking along the road. The plaid wrapped around his waist and over his shoulders identified him as a Cameron. From the dryness of that garment, she realised that he’d not climbed the falls to get here. That meant he knew the other path to reach this place. And that did not bode well for her and her privacy or security.

‘Good day, sir,’ she said.

Anna wiped her hands on the apron at her waist and pushed the loosened strands of hair out of her sweaty face. She must look an utter mess with her dirty gown and face. While he...was dangerously attractive.

The man had gathered his long, dark brown hair back away from his face which allowed her to see its masculine angles. And his intense eyes that were the colour of the darkest wood in the forest. And his strong chin. He was the most attractive man she’d ever met, here on Cameron lands or in the north on Mackenzie lands. She swallowed to ease the nervousness at that realisation as her throat tightened and tried to speak past it.

‘I did not mean to interrupt you,’ he said, stepping back as she approached him. ‘I have heard that you are...’ He paused then, as though not able to utter the word that most used.

‘The Witch of Caig Falls,’ she said.

Chapter Two

‘I was about to say healer, but if you would prefer the other...’

She’d blurted out the reply before he could finish his sentence. He guessed it was not the first time someone had called her a witch. Davidh watched as her green eyes widened for a moment and then they sparkled as she smiled. Her full, pink lips curved into an enticing and intriguing one as he wondered if she considered the name a curse or a compliment.

She laughed then and he could not look away. The smudges of dirt across her face did little to hide the freckles on her cheeks. And the curls that had escaped her kerchief showed strands of fiery red and copper amidst the other shades of brown. His hand lifted to pull more of the locks free and Davidh struggled to stop himself.

‘Nay, healer is preferred since it is truer than the other.’

Davidh was not convinced. Mayhap she was bewitching him with some spell as she stared at him now? His mouth went dry as she stepped closer and he forgot to move back to allow her to pass. Her body brushed his as she walked away from the door and he turned to follow her movements. Something within him woke, a feeling unfamiliar for it had been so long since he’d noticed it last.

She intrigued him. She appealed to him in a way he could not describe. She aroused him.

‘’Tis the healer I came seeking, but I expected someone...older. Are you the one who saw to Tavish?’

‘The lad who fell and twisted his ankle? About two-and-ten?’

‘Aye. That one. He sang your praises to his family and to others. That is how I discovered you were here.’

‘Are you ill?’ She leaned in towards him and took in his measure, glancing over his body and then staring once more into his eyes. ‘Have you a fever?’ She lifted her hand up as though to touch his forehead and paused, her hand waiting there a scant few inches from his skin. ‘Your pardon,’ she said as she dropped her hand back to her side.

‘I have no need of your services,’ he said. His choice of words was ill made and he shook his head. ‘My son has been ill for some time and nothing has helped him.’ Davidh shrugged, fighting the urge to beg her for any help she could offer.

‘I have not unpacked my supplies yet, but tell me of his symptoms so I will know if I can help him.’

He could not help it—he let out a loud sigh of relief. Something in her expression gave him confidence that she could indeed help his son.

‘His breathing becomes laboured often,’ he said.

It took a few minutes for him to describe all the ways his son had suffered over the last year and how he seemed to worsen by the week. She nodded as though she recognised these signs and symptoms and he found himself studying the way her brow gathered when she asked him to clarify something he’d said. She was methodical in a way the village healer was not. Her questions made sense to him as she tried to understand his son’s illness.

‘Can you help him?’ he asked when he’d finished.

‘I have my suspicions about the cause of his illness, but I must see him to be certain.’ She glanced around the small clearing in which this secluded cottage sat and then back towards the falls. ‘Can you bring him here on the morrow?’

Now Davidh looked at the surrounding land and wondered if it was possible. This small area of woods and clearing around the cottage was like an island in the middle of sheer rock cliffs on one side and a large river that rushed around the other and fell, forming the falls. Oh, aye, he’d followed the path that Malcolm had told him of all those years ago, but he would have to carry his son to bring him here. Shaking his head, he looked back to the woman.

‘Nay. I see no way to get him here in his condition. Even using the hillside path that I did.’ She looked startled at his reminder of how he’d arrived there, but he did not let that deter him. ‘Can you not come to the village and see him there?’ As her expression turned into one of refusal, Davidh knew she would not come. ‘I can pay you in coin for your inconvenience.’ He would give her every bit of coin or valuables he might own if she could help his Colm.

‘’Tis not about payment. I have not yet asked the chieftain’s permission to be here. To offer my herbs and skills to his villagers. So, to visit your son before I do so would offer an insult he could not ignore.’

Once more relief flooded him. This was not an obstacle. He could bring this woman to Robert and make her known to him easily.

‘Then I would take you to Robert and see you given permission to live here among us.’ The words came out even as innate caution raised within him.

Robert trusted Davidh’s judgement and would accept this woman on his word. He searched her face for any sign of danger and found only sympathy there.

‘You could do that?’ Her gaze narrowed then and she studied his face more closely. ‘I do not even ken your name or who you are.’ She glanced away then, as though thinking on something, and turned back to him. ‘I did not mean that to sound as rude as it did, especially not when you have just offered help to me.’ A scant smile eased her mouth.

‘I did simply invade your home without an introduction and never asked your name either,’ he said. ‘I am Davidh Cameron and I command the Cameron warriors for our chieftain.’

The effects of his words were immediate and surprising. Her green eyes grew wide and fluttered several times at his words. Then those eyes filled with tears for a moment before she glanced away. Strange, that. Davidh searched her face for some sign of familiarity, but there was no way he could have met this woman and forgotten her. A moment later she seemed to pull herself out of whatever reverie she’d fallen into and looked at him with clear eyes.

‘Forgive me for my refusal to help you, sir,’ she said softly as she curtsied before him. ‘I did not understand who you are and I meant no insult to the chieftain or his man.’

This part, this obeisance, still unsettled him, but Davidh understood that, in his new position of service to the new chieftain, it would be something to which he must accustom himself. He was in a position of honour and a certain level of power and others who wished to gain entrance or favour with the chieftain would attempt to go through him to get it. He nodded at the woman.

‘I took no insult from your words, mistress. I suspect Robert would not take insult from your coming to the village first, but others might on his behalf.’

There were always some who protected the chieftain’s dignity or just wanted to toady up to him to gain advantage for themselves. She waited with a look of anticipation in those lovely green eyes and he lost his thoughts for a moment. When he wanted to speak, he realised he did not know her name either.

‘What are you called?’ He finally forced out the words. He wanted to know what name he would whisper when he brought her to mind when she was not there.

‘I am Anna. Anna Mackenzie.’

‘Lately of...?’

‘I have lived with my mother’s family in the north.’

‘What brings you south? Here?’

Though he was being less than hospitable and was questioning the person who possibly held his son’s life in her hands, Davidh could not forget his duty to his clan. She glanced away, staring off in the direction of the falls, and then back to meet his waiting gaze.

‘I have been learning the healing ways since I was but a wee lass and showed some skill in them. I have always wanted a place to call my own. A place to hone my skills and to help the ill and injured.’ The seriousness of her words gave him pause.

‘You make it sound like a calling.’

She smiled then and he nearly let out a gasp. No woman before had caused such a visceral reaction within him as this one did. In a short time, she had him uneasy and aroused and curious. This was not good. He had many things that needed his focused attention and anything, anyone, who took his mind off his responsibilities was not good.

‘My mother often spoke of it in those words,’ she, Anna, said. ‘Some people were called to certain stations or places in their lives. She was called to be a healer and it would seem that I have been, too.’

‘We have a healer in the village, but he sees more to injuries. He kens little of concoctions and ways to heal other than what most ken.’

‘Then who has been treating your son?’ she asked, stepping closer to him. A breeze rustled through the clearing and Davidh inhaled an enticing scent. A soap mayhap that she used? So taken by it, he paused a bit too long and she noticed.

‘We had another, a woman, who was here for but a few months, before leaving with her husband to his village. Morag left me a goodly supply of the syrups and medicaments that Colm needs. But now Old Ranald sees to things.’

She muttered something under her breath before she nodded.

‘I will come in the morn, if that is convenient for you,’ she said.

‘Come to the gates and tell one of the guards to send to me when you do,’ Davidh said. ‘I must get back now.’

He’d spent too much time here and the sun was beginning its journey down to night. Even using the path Malcolm told him about would be treacherous come dark. And the one that went down along the falls was dangerous at any time of the day. Only fools and wee lads were stupid or proud enough to try it.

‘On the morrow, then,’ she said as he nodded and turned to leave.

‘How did you ken about that path to get up here?’ she asked.

‘I have known it for a long time. I just had no need to use it until now.’ He stopped then and faced her, for the loud rushing of the falls would make hearing his words impossible if he walked closer to them. ‘My old friend Malcolm told me of it.’

He did not know her at all, but the expression on her face alarmed him, nonetheless. ‘Mistress, are you well?’ he asked.

‘Aye,’ she said, waving him off. ‘I would prefer that no one knew of it.’ He understood that a woman living alone far from the village had reason to wish for privacy...and for safety.

‘I will share my knowledge with no one, Anna,’ he said, seeing her worry ease and her face brighten. ‘On the morrow, then.’

It took him less time to reach the bottom of the falls and the horse he’d left tied there in the shade. And, for the first time in such a long while, Davidh felt hope rising in his heart.

His son would not die.

This woman, this healer, this Anna Mackenzie, would help his son and Colm would grow up to be the man that Mara and Davidh had dreamt of at his birth.

His son would not die.

The chant was familiar to him, but now he allowed himself to believe it could be true.

* * *

Anna barely made it back inside and to the table before the tremors began. Even her teeth shook as she grabbed on to the wooden chair next to it and lowered herself down. She prayed that Iain would not return now and see her like this.

Davidh Cameron. The commander of the Cameron warriors. Counsellor to his chieftain. An influential man. A powerful man. One who could ease her path or make her life a hell.

Malcolm’s closest friend.

Memories flooded her mind then and she gasped at their strength. Malcolm’s voice as he explained about their boyish antics together. Defending their decision to tease Malcolm’s sister by putting a dead bird in her bed and the repercussions of that act. Speaking of their plans for the time when Malcolm was chieftain and Davidh would be his man. Malcolm revealed that Davidh had helped and protected him many times.

They were closer than true brothers could be.

Malcolm was gone these ten years now and Anna wondered if his friend yet thought about him. Clearly the man had married and had a son since Malcolm’s passing.

A son he’d named for his closest friend.

Funny that, for his friends had called Malcolm Mal while this man had called his son the other part—Colm.

Would he help her? Not only in meeting and gaining permission from the new chieftain to live here on Cameron lands, but also in helping her son claim his birthright? For just as Malcolm would have been chieftain, so his son should be in line to claim the high seat, as well.

Now, though, a different branch of the clan held it and this chieftain had sons who thought it theirs. Her son would present a threat to that plan.

The sound of footsteps outside drew her attention. These were Iain’s and he stepped inside the open door holding out his quarry for the day’s efforts. A rabbit. Big enough to provide several meals for them, but not so big as to infringe on the rights of The Cameron.

‘A good catch,’ she said, pushing herself up on shaking legs. ‘I will make stew.’

She knew he watched her as she took the rabbit he’d caught, killed and skinned and began preparing to cook it for supper. Anna tried to calm her nervousness, but her hands were unsteady when she lifted the heavy iron pot on to the hook that would hold it above the fire. Iain quickly came to help her. He took it from her as though it weighed less than a feather.

Her son was growing into manhood.

Her son needed to learn about the important things for the life they, he, would claim among the Camerons if her plan worked. The skills of a warrior and the knowledge of a possible heir to the chieftain and more—things she could not teach him.

But Davidh Cameron could.

While the stew simmered in the pot, she gathered together the supplies she needed to take with her to the village. Then she explained to Iain the tasks she needed him to do while she was away for the morning.

All the while, her mind turned over and over the plan she’d devised before they’d left her mother’s people. Now that Davidh Cameron was involved, she saw another way, another possibility, to get what she wanted most for her son.

It would not be easy. It would not be quick. It could be dangerous. Nay, that was not true and she would not be foolish enough to ignore the truth that she knew now.

Davidh Cameron was dangerous, for he would defend and protect his clan and his son from all who threatened them.

Even if the threat came from his closest friend’s lover and her son.

Chapter Three

The clouds gathered as she made her way along the road through Achnacarry village towards the castle. Anna lifted her woollen shawl over her head and tossed the end of it across her basket to protect the supplies she carried. If the chieftain gave his permission, she would see Davidh’s son before returning to the cottage.

There was so much work yet to be done and she’d not planned to reveal her presence until she was ready. She could almost hear the fates laughing at her for believing she would control every aspect of her endeavour. If only that boy had not ventured so close... But once he’d fallen she could not ignore him or his injury.

The sigh that escaped her then seemed to echo across the road as she continued on, not wanting to delay this meeting for even a moment more. She nodded a greeting to an old man who walked by her away from the castle. Though she passed by a number of people of all ages along the way, not many acknowledged her. She was a stranger here, for now, so it was to be expected. Would there ever be a place or time when she was not that?

Her life had consisted in segments for as long as she could remember. Her earliest years she remembered not so she would have to accept the explanation her mother had given her. Then, the years spent here, living above the falls while her mother saw to the ills and hurts of those who came to her. A smile came to her face when she thought on the next part—the months with Malcolm.

A few glorious and shining months of love and happiness and hope. Anna would live on those memories her whole life.

Then, her flight north and separation from him and the birth of their son. Iain had only two years when the news of Malcolm’s murder spread across the Highlands and clans. Her mother had helped her through that desperate time—and Iain, a sunny, happy child, did, as well. His childhood years seemed to fly by and then her mother’s passing drove Anna to make her decision to return here.

To the lands and clan of her son’s father.

Anna glanced ahead and saw the guards standing on each side of the large iron gates that allowed entrance to the castle grounds and keep. Would they send for Davidh at her, a stranger’s, word? They caught sight of her and moved to block her from entering, as guards did.

‘What is your business within, mistress?’ the taller one said. His hand on his sword reminded her that she was an outsider and unknown to them.

‘Davidh Cameron said to call on him this morn. He said to send word to him of my arrival.’

The change in their expressions and the strange glint in their eyes happened and fled so quickly that Anna almost missed it. It was obvious that they misunderstood her purpose or the handsome commander’s wishes in this. Anna drew back the shawl to expose her basket, filled with various jars and containers of medicaments and such.

‘He has asked me to see to his son,’ she said.

Now sheepishness entered the men’s gazes and they nodded and stepped back to their positions on each side of the gate as one, the shorter one, called out to someone within to send word to their commander. Anna expected Davidh to come for her, but another man hastened down the path to the gates instead.

‘Come! Come,’ he called out. The guards nodded her to go so she walked through the gates, stopping when the man reached her. ‘He is expecting you, though the chieftain is too busy to speak to you just now. Come, you can wait inside.’

She had to quicken her steps to keep up with this man and she did, arriving at the doorway of the keep out of breath. But he was not done yet and led her within, down a long corridor towards a noisy chamber. As they reached the doorway there, she heard angry words being exchanged. The man took her by the arm and tugged her to a place by the wall.

‘Stay here until Davidh calls for you.’ The man nodded at the stool there and walked away before she could say aye or nay.

Anna sat as directed and then glanced about the chamber, the great hall of the keep, and sought out the only one she knew here. She heard his voice before she saw him. There he was, standing at his chieftain’s side, involved in some discussion. Well, from the raised, angry tones, it sounded more like an argument, but she was a stranger to the proceedings here and could not gauge if there was true anger or something else.

Studying the various people up on the dais, she could see that Davidh was held in high esteem, not only by his clan’s chieftain but also by those who served the laird. Several times as she watched, the chieftain asked for his counsel on the matter and others referred to that opinion in their own statements. This seemed to be about an incursion on to their lands and the question was about the actions to be taken. The discussion continued for some time, and, though not familiar with the particulars of it, it sounded as though Davidh’s judgement would prevail.

‘Enough.’

When spoken by the chieftain in a tone and loudness that all could hear, the arguing was done. She watched as the powerful man sat back against his chair and nodded. Everyone surrounding him stepped away and waited on his pronouncement. Instead of calling out orders to them, Robert Cameron spoke softly then.

‘I will make my decision by nightfall and Davidh will have your orders.’

From their stances and the manner in which they held their bodies, Anna could tell some were not pleased at all by this. Whether they wanted the chieftain to act now or whether they did not wish for Davidh to play such an integral role, she could not tell. But clearly the chieftain’s men were not in agreement with this. When the small gathering broke up, Davidh raised his head and nodded at her.

So, he knew she was there. He called not for her, but motioned a servant to his side and spoke to the woman. Anna watched as she picked up a cup and pitcher and made her way down from the dais, along the hall’s stone walls to where she sat waiting.

‘The commander said ’twill be some time, mistress,’ the woman said, holding out the cup. ‘Would you like some ale while you wait?’ Anna nodded and took the cup. As the woman filled it, she continued, ‘There is yet some porridge or bread and cheese in the kitchen if you have not broken your fast yet.’

‘Nay,’ she replied in a low voice. ‘The ale is enough for me.’ Anna nodded at the woman who curtsied as though Anna were of higher station than she was. ‘My thanks to you,’ Anna added before the woman returned to the dais and those to whom she should bow.

Anna held her basket on her lap and allowed her shawl to drop around her shoulders. Tucking her loosened hair back under her kerchief, she waited and watched the comings and goings of the mighty Cameron’s hall.

So, this was the place where Malcolm had lived.

She’d never been into the village before and certainly not the hall. Her mother had hidden her presence from the villagers and, until Malcolm had found her by accident in the woods near the falls, no one had known she existed.

This hall was grand and she could almost see him running the length of it as a lad. He would have sat on the dais next to or nigh to his father, Euan Cameron. As his son and tanist of the clan, Malcolm had been trained from birth to fight and to rule. Her breath caught then as she realised the truth of her mother’s words spoken so long ago.

His father would never have allowed their marriage—bairn to be born or not. A son of this great place would marry the daughter of another, not the penniless offspring of a healer. The tears surprised her and she wiped them away. Though it had not felt so, her mother’s actions had saved her great pain. Her mother had understood what would have happened if they’d remained.

A leman would be the only place she could claim in his life. Loved, certainly, but never to be at his side except in the dark of night or the moments of privacy they could seek out. And a son born in wedlock would supplant any place their son would have held. Anna reached up and wiped away more tears.

It was strange that this place had caused such a long-overdue realisation, but it had. Now, though, she needed to gather her wits and her control and speak to the current laird to gain a place here. So that her son could claim his place here when the truth was known to all.

‘Anna Mackenzie. The chieftain calls you now.’

That man who’d led her inside stood before her now and she glanced up to find everyone in the hall looking in her direction. So caught up in her past was she that she had missed her summons forward.

Anna stood quickly and lifted her basket on to her arm. Following the man forward, she stopped where he pointed and she curtsied to the man seated above her without looking up. She waited until the laird spoke her name, signalling her to rise.

‘My commander tells me you are a healer, Mistress Mackenzie.’

‘I am, Laird,’ she said, without raising her gaze.

‘You seem young to be such,’ The Cameron said. ‘How came you to be here in Achnacarry?’

‘My mother lived here some years ago and I wished to return.’

‘Your mother?’ Davidh asked now. She did not yet raise her eyes, but he came down the steps and stood next to her. ‘You did not say your mother lived here.’ He moved between her and his chieftain then. ‘Anna?’

‘I think I understand,’ The Cameron said from his seat. ‘Your mother was...’ She did look at him then and saw that he knew.

‘Aye, Laird. She was the one they called the Witch of Caig Falls.’ The word echoed through the rest of the hall, not because she’d said it but because those watching whispered it then. ‘Though she was only a talented healer and could cast no spells or enchantments.’

‘Surely she could not,’ The Cameron said. ‘She was a God-fearing woman. The rest were just rumours.’ He waved Davidh back; his action declared she was no threat.

Had this man, the head of the mighty Cameron clan, just defended her mother against the fanciful but very dangerous claims of being a witch? His eyes crinkled with merriment as he smiled at her. The last chieftain here would never have done such a thing, nor the one before him. Malcolm’s father had ignored the threats against her when they began. That was another reason her mother had chosen their time to flee—a woman called witch was living in a dangerous situation and it would take but one incident to spark into a life-threatening one.

‘Aye, Laird,’ she said now. ‘She had the skills of a talented healer. I only hope I can be as able as she was.’

‘Well, Old Ranald will be glad to have someone take over those duties from him. He has more skill with a saw and wooden splints than any of the finer healing talents. You will live by the falls? Davidh said the cottage there is fit for living, but remote.’ A glance at Davidh who had stepped to her side revealed his nod. ‘Will you not live here in the village?’

‘My mother’s plants yet grow near the falls. ’Tis easier to cultivate what I need there.’ Anna glanced around and wondered which of the laird’s counsellors would turn against her if she did not agree to his terms. At least one dark, narrowed gaze met hers—the man who’d escorted her in was not happy over this, over her. No need for trouble now, she thought, so, she acquiesced. ‘But, if it would please you, I can make arrangements to visit the village each day and see to any needs.’

He considered her offer seriously and for some time. She was almost on the point of giving in and moving to the village instead, but the touch of Davidh’s hand on her arm, something hidden from the view of most everyone there, forestalled her from doing that.

‘If it would serve you better to live out there, you have my permission to do so,’ The Cameron declared. ‘And my protection while you serve my clan here.’

‘My thanks, Laird.’

‘Davidh, come to me after you have seen to your son.’

She released a breath she had not known she’d held in and nodded. She curtsied then and watched as he stood and left the dais. Though others there turned their attentions away from the dais, Anna could feel their gazes upon her. They were curious about the woman just welcomed into their midst.

‘I brought what I think I will need, but I would like to see what you have been using.’

‘This way,’ he said, leading her back the way she’d entered.

‘Who was the man who brought me in?’

‘That was Struan, The Cameron’s steward.’

She stopped right then and there in surprise. The steward had been sent like a common servant to fetch her from the gate? The steward? The same man who’d stared at her with open dislike in his eyes was the steward and in charge of everything in The Cameron’s household here at Achnacarry.

‘You sent the laird’s steward to the gates?’

‘Aye,’ Davidh said. ‘Robert wished to continue the discussion and you needed to be admitted. Struan was the only one not needed in the hall just then.’

Men could be both practical and oblivious at the same time. Davidh had walked on and she rushed to catch up to his long-legged strides. They left the keep and the yard and walked back into the village. Now, people openly stared as she passed by them. Word would spread about her identity quickly, for that was how news raced through these small villages. Soon, everyone would know.

They turned down a path and she smelled the scent of hot metal and fire and knew the smithy was nearby. Soon, they walked by it and stopped at the large cottage next door.

‘This is your cottage?’ she asked, peering around him at the dwelling. ‘Is your wife within?’

Now, he stopped and turned to face her. His face had lost most of its colouring, making him appear gaunt and frightening. He took a step towards her and she fought not to shrink back away from him. He leaned down closer to her and spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘My wife died of fever a few years ago and I have raised him since.’

‘I...am...’ She could not speak the right words to him now.

‘I do not wish to discuss Mara before my son, so I pray you will not mention her within.’ His voice betrayed the emotions he must feel. She heard the loss and grief and yearning there and her own heart wanted to weep for his loss. ‘This...’ He paused then and cleared his throat making hers feel even tighter with the emotions she could see and hear within him. ‘This is where Jamie, the blacksmith...’ he nodded over her shoulder at the smithy ‘...and his wife Suisan live. She cares for Colm when I am on duty.’

‘I understand,’ she said softly.

He nodded, knocked on the door and then lifted the latch gently. She smiled at the efforts he took not to disturb those within. For all his strength and formidable size, he softened as he must for his ailing son.

The good thing about this cottage was that it was filled with light and fresh air. Often, those treating the sick closed the windows and built up the fire which allowed the smoke from the peat and wood being burned to fill the often cramped place. In her mother’s opinion, that did more harm than any possible good for most ailments and illnesses. Anna followed Davidh in, smiling at the anxious woman standing next to the pallet.

‘Suisan?’ she asked. At the woman’s nod, she introduced herself. ‘I am Anna Mackenzie.’

‘From the falls?’ the woman asked.

The damn rumours and stories always followed her and her mother before her. ‘Aye, from the falls.’

‘I am glad he sought ye out. The puir wee lad is not much better this morn than he has been these last days.’ Anna had learned early that suspicion was hard to fight and so this unexpected sense of welcome surprised her. ‘Let me show ye what the last healer gave us to treat him.’

‘I would see your son first,’ she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

Whether he’d known it or not, Davidh had placed himself between her and his son. The sense of protectiveness about his son pervaded his every action and deed and somehow that made her heart warm to him. It was something she’d never had in her life, so she always seemed to notice it elsewhere.

The chieftain’s commander eased his stance and stepped aside, allowing her closer to the small boy lying on the pallet. With his eyes closed, she could not tell if he slept or not. Kneeling down, she leaned in and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Not good. The rasping sounds and the shallow quickness of the breaths were not good.

A quick assessment of the colouring in his fingernails and lips told her more. His eyes fluttered and then opened when she laid the back of her hand on his forehead.

‘Good morn to you, Colm,’ she said softly. ‘How are you feeling this day?’

Anna leaned back and sat on her heels so that the boy could see those he knew behind her. Frightening him would make his condition worse. When he tried to sit up, she slid her arm behind him and used her other hand to guide him do so.

And then he began to cough.

Chapter Four

The boy shuddered in her arms, his body trembling, and his chest rattled as his body fought against the racking coughs. She heard Davidh move behind her and Suisan walked closer, but she waved them off with a nod of her head. ‘Wait,’ she whispered.

‘He needs this.’ Davidh thrust a small bottle in front of her. ‘The healer said three to four drops when he begins.’

He’d already removed the stopper and she could smell the concoction within the bottle. Juice of the poppy. A strong blend from the smell of it.

‘Nay.’

She shifted on to her knees and brought the boy up to sit. With an arm in front of him, she eased him to lean against her and she placed her hand on his back, trying to feel the source of the cough. Anna had seen this before, as had her mother. Poppy was the last thing the boy needed.

‘This will quiet the cough, Anna,’ Davidh said, holding the bottle out again before her. ‘He is in pain.’

Davidh was in pain, that much was certain. She heard it in his voice just as she heard the rattling in his son’s chest. She hated to make either of them suffer, but giving that concoction to Colm would calm the coughing even while making it more difficult to breathe.

‘Davidh.’ Suisan spoke then, whispering to the commander, and his shadow moved away.

Anna listened and watched until the boy’s fit eased and he could once more draw in breath. She did notice that he continued to pant, probably afraid that taking in too much would cause another round.

‘Now that it has ceased, can you stand up, Colm?’ The boy agreed just as his father said nay. After glancing nervously at his father for permission, Colm allowed her to help him up once Davidh nodded. ‘Come, I will help you. You may feel better sitting on that chair than lying down when the coughing strikes you.’

Once she’d seen him settled there, she took a small sack out of her basket and handed it to Suisan. ‘Would you brew this in a small pot for me? By the time it cools, ’twill be the right strength for him.’

Then she began her true work.

‘Davidh, ’tis better for him to sit up more and lie down less. Suisan, can you leave the shutters in the back of the cottage open like that for most of the time he is here? Smoke, from the fire or the smithy, is not good for him.’ Anna glanced at the pallet. ‘When he does lie there, he should not be flat. The higher his head, the better.’

She waited until the tisane had brewed and was cool enough for him to drink before saying anything else. Instead, she examined each bottle or jar and asked Colm about the taste. His remarkable sense of humour and resilience showed through as he made faces to describe each one.

‘How many years have you, Colm?’ She thought she remembered Davidh mentioning his age, but she wanted the lad to speak.

‘Eight years.’

‘Mistress Mackenzie,’ Davidh said over her shoulder.

‘Mistress Mackenzie,’ Colm repeated. ‘I have eight years.’

‘Nearly full grown, then?’ she said. His face lit up at her words and she saw the same eyes staring at her as his father had. The shape of his face and his colouring was not familiar so Anna knew those traits were from his mother. ‘So, you are old and wise enough to understand and follow instructions?’

Colm nodded and took another mouthful of the tea as if to show her how compliant he could be. ‘Aye, mistress.’

‘Firstly,’ she said, meeting his wide and serious gaze, ‘is that I want you to lay on the pallet only when you plan to sleep.’

‘He is weak...’ Davidh began.

She ignored him and spoke only to his son.

‘’Twill be hard at first because you are accustomed to lying abed, but soon you will feel strong enough to sit up or even stand all day long.’ She nodded at the boy. ‘What say you, Colm? Will you try this?’

‘Aye, Mistress Mackenzie!’ From the tears she saw in Suisan’s eyes now, Anna suspected that this enthusiasm was something not seen in the lad in some time.

‘And I fear I will have other concoctions that you must take. Some will have a terrible taste, but they will help you. Can you promise to do as I say?’

‘I will try, mistress. I will!’

* * *

Davidh could not stand this any longer. True, his son had rallied in a way he’d not seen recently, but it could not last. Had he made a mistake in bringing this woman to see Colm? Other than her appearance at Caig Falls, her claims of being a healer, and the bottles and jars that seemed to indicate it was so, he had no proof that she’d ever treated anyone successfully. And yet, he’d brought her to his son on what? His gut reaction to her?

As he listened to her voice as she spoke to Colm, her manner of addressing the boy as though he was in charge surprised Davidh. She did not coddle him or order him. Instead she explained and asked for co-operation. It was how he spoke to the men under his command.

This Anna Mackenzie seemed to know what she was about, even if her suggestions and changes so far were completely the opposite of previous advice he’d received. Watching her now, he understood that she had a plan and he waited to speak to her about that. Even Suisan nodded in agreement as the woman instructed Colm on what he would take and when he would take it.

‘Now, if you would kindly pour some boiling water in that pan and place it here on the table,’ she said, aiming her words at Suisan. ‘Colm and I will play a game.’

Davidh walked to the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching as Anna chose some leaves from a sack in her basket and then retrieved one of the thick blankets from the pallet. She shook it out and folded it in a particular way, repeating her actions until it was as she wished it to be. Curious, he watched without asking any questions—though he had many she would need to answer before long.

Soon, a pan of steaming water sat before his son. Anna crushed the leaves in her hand and sprinkled them over the water. A fragrant aroma filled the cottage within a few moments. Anna tossed one end of the blanket over the pan and then directed Colm to lean over it.

‘This is to see how long you can go without coughing. First, take in slow breaths while I count and try not to cough.’ Then she draped the rest of the blanket over and around his son’s shoulders, creating a tent over the pan. ‘Are you ready, Colm?’ His son’s muffled assent could be heard even through the thick wool over his head.

Davidh could not help it, he found himself inhaling and exhaling to her soft, slow count. As it went on, he waited and listened for signs of distress in his son and heard none. Then it came.

Colm burst out into a coughing fit and Davidh took a step towards him before Anna waved him off. She held Colm’s shoulders to steady him and softly spoke to him, telling him how to let the coughs happen and how to breathe to calm them. Rather than escalating into an uncontrollable wave that would see Colm collapsed on the pallet, with blue lips and bruised eyes, this time the coughs subsided and soon Anna was back to counting. He met Suisan’s gaze over Anna’s head and saw her tentative and yet hopeful expression.

But Davidh dared not hope too much this soon. Other treatments and medicaments had seemed effective in the past, only to stop helping his son. Would these as well? At this desperate point, as long as Colm did not worsen, Davidh would be happy. After a short time, Anna lifted the blanket off Colm and placed it with care to the side of the now-cooled pan.

‘How does your chest feel now, Colm?’ Anna asked his son.

A smile that made it hard for Davidh to breathe settled on Colm’s face and he shrugged. As the boy inhaled, they all waited to see if the coughing had truly been eased by the vapours of whatever those leaves were.

‘Better,’ Colm said, drawing in a deeper breath than he would have dared just an hour ago. ‘It doesna hurt now.’

All three of those observing the boy let out a sigh of relief, even the one who had brought about such a change.

‘I must speak to your father and Suisan about what to do and when to use these,’ she said, sweeping a gesture over the small collection of ingredients there on the table. ‘Will you sit here quietly while I do?’ At the boy’s doubtful glance, she added, ‘I want you to listen so you will know about it, too. Can you do that, Colm?’

The expression on his son’s face was the same as the one Mara would have when concentrating on something important. In the set of Colm’s chin and the tilt of his head, he saw his wife’s face. God, he missed her so. He could not lose their son, too.

‘And I will return in a few days to bring more of the leaves and tinctures and see what else might help you.’

‘A few days?’ Davidh realised he’d not been paying heed to her specific instructions. ‘You will not come on the morrow?’

‘Nay,’ Anna said, stepping back, but not before running her fingers through Colm’s hair in an affectionate way. ‘’Twill take a few days for these to do their work. If they are successful at keeping that cough under control, then I will adjust them as we need to.’ She patted his shoulder and walked to where Davidh stood near the door. ‘As I have said, I have many things to get organised and ready up at the cottage.’ He would have objected, but she shook her head.

‘If he worsens...?’

‘Send for me and I will come,’ she said, meeting his gaze now. ‘I think he will not.’

Suisan moved the supplies to a shelf near the hearth and began preparing for her noon meal. Colm missed little now, watching with an interest that Davidh had not seen in many months. Anna retrieved her basket and put what she would take with her back in it, before taking her leave—first from Colm, then Suisan and then himself. Davidh followed her outside, trying to find the words he wanted to say to her. She stopped after a few paces and turned to face him.

‘I did not wish to say this in front of them, but I cannot know if this will make him better. He may never re—’

His hand covered her mouth before he could stop himself. Her lips were soft against his fingers and he felt her gasp before he heard it.

‘Your pardon, Anna,’ he said. ‘Watching him just then, well, I do not wish to hear words of caution. I have been living with his eventual death for so long, I had not realised the weight of it until just now. Now, when he has more colour in his face and is breathing more smoothly than he has in months and months.’ He dropped his hands to his side then and shrugged. ‘Allow a father a measure of hope before tearing it apart.’

Whatever she was going to say, she did not. Instead he saw the tears filling her eyes before she turned away from him. He’d not meant to drive her to tears, for he’d simply spoken his fears aloud for the first time to someone other than his dead wife or the dark of night.

‘I will come two days hence then,’ she said.

He stood there on the path and watched her until she disappeared from view on the road through the village and towards the north. He went back inside and spoke to Suisan and Colm for a short while before returning to his duties at the castle. For the first time in such a long while, the sound of Colm’s coughs did not follow his steps away.

* * *

Anna used all of the control she could pull together not to fall to her knees and sob over this man and his son. Truth be told, she worried that the lad was too far gone to bring him back from the brink of death. But how could she say that to the man who stood there with both hope and desolation in his gaze? He knew. He knew how dire the situation was. And somehow his own survival depended on that of his son’s.

Nay, he was not ill or stricken by the same lung weakness that assailed the boy, but she thought that his son’s death would tear him apart in other ways. Anna stopped now, at the edge of the village, and turned to look back. He’d been watching her, she could feel his gaze burning into her with each step. Now, though, she did not see him there.

She quickened her pace, wanting and needing to put some distance between herself and the village. But the boy and the man were in the centre of her thoughts all the way back to her cottage. And for the rest of the day as she weeded and pruned the unruly and overgrown plants in her mother’s plot above the falls.

* * *

Davidh and his son remained her concern over the next two days as she prepared concoctions and unguents and even as she and Iain ate and talked. Methods of treating the boy’s lung affliction filled her thoughts. She had kept notes on her mother’s recipes and cures in a precious book and she consulted it as she prepared her basket for her journey back into town. Though Iain wanted to accompany her, she bade him to wait there, in the safety of the shadows.

The revelation of his existence and his connection to this clan would come, but Anna wanted it to happen to her own plan. Once it did, she would lose control over the one thing in her life that was her own to claim and she did not relish that moment at all.

Chapter Five

‘Mistress Mackenzie!’

Colm’s excited call greeted her on her approach to the blacksmith’s cottage. He sat outside the door, waving and speaking to anyone who passed by him that morn. A collection of others stood nearby, waiting or watching, she could not tell.

‘Good day to you, Colm,’ she called out to the boy.

Sitting in the unexpected morning sun revealed that there had been some improvement in his condition. His colouring, though not as pale and pasty as he had been, was a scant bit nearer to health than sickness now. A good sign that. Anna reached the boy and he reached out and tugged on her skirts.

‘Mistress Mackenzie, I sat up all day except for when I was asleep. Like you told me to.’

Suisan came to the opened doorway then, wiping her hands on the apron tucked at her waist.

‘Good morn to ye, Mistress Mackenzie,’ she said, nodding at the boy who was struggling to remain on the stool there. ‘He has been hoping ye would give yer permission for him to leave the cottage.’

Anna walked over and slid her hand across the boy’s hair and forehead. No fever. ‘Well, let me see how he is doing and we can talk about extending his prison walls.’

‘I have taken every one of your remedies,’ Colm said. ‘Even the brown one that smells putrid.’ He gagged loudly, showing his distaste for it.

‘Is that true, Mistress Cameron?’ Anna asked in a serious tone. ‘Has he followed my instructions?’ The lad’s enthusiastic words and manner spoke of his improvement, with or without Suisan’s confirmation.

‘’Tis true,’ Suisan said.

‘Come inside and let me check your breathing first, Colm.’

She smiled as the boy jumped up from the stool and ran into the cottage. The mistake to avoid would be to let him try too much too soon. Though, watching his increased vigour, she knew it would be hard to keep him from pushing himself.

Colm allowed her to push and prod him and he followed her instructions to test his breathing. He coughed, but it was not the uncontrollable, breath-stealing spasms it had been. This was good. He was not recovered, that would be a long process, but if the various things she’d given him eased the symptoms, she would be happy.

‘I think he can be permitted some time outside on the morrow, Mistress Cameron,’ Anna pronounced when she’d finished. ‘No running, course, but some time with his friends.’

‘Truly?’ Colm asked. ‘On the morrow?’

‘Aye. If you promise not to run.’

‘Aye, Mistress Mackenzie. Aye!’

Colm’s smile warmed her heart and she could see a bit of her own son in his reactions. They were but a few years apart in age with Iain being nigh to ten-and-three while Colm had eight years.

‘For now, you may sit outside and speak with your friends. Make your plans.’

The boy was up and outside before she could say another thing. True to what Anna asked of him, he sat on the stool next to the door and called out to his friends.

‘So, the vapour has worked then?’ she asked Suisan. ‘Has he been coughing much?’

‘Nay,’ the older woman said. ‘Some the first night, but less after each dosing or use of the vapour. He did not complain or refuse, nay, he did not. He is a good lad.’

‘Better than most others who have asked for my help,’ Anna said.

‘About those seeking your help...’ Anna raised her gaze to Suisan and waited for her to continue. ‘Word has already spread about ye being a healer.’

‘Those outside?’ Anna walked to the doorway and looked past the boy and his friends to see a growing crowd. ‘They are to see me?’

‘Aye, if ye would? Many have ailments that Old Ranald could not see to. Many have minor things, but I think ye could help a number of others with the things ye grow and make.’

Those waiting noticed her scrutiny and began to move closer. Anna nodded to them and they approached. She recognised a variety of symptoms and ailments as they grew closer.

‘Suisan, I would not see them in the road. Can I bring them inside your cottage? Or is there another I might use?’

‘Ye are welcome here and mayhap I could help ye a bit? Introduce ye to the villagers and such?’

* * *

Within a short time, Anna was speaking to the people who needed her services. Though it took several hours, with Suisan’s help, Anna managed to speak to each person who sought her aid. Some could be helped then, but others could not for she had not the ingredients or supplies to do so. A few more days and she would have some of what she needed, but it would be weeks of tending to the plots above the falls before she would be ready.

Colm sat by the door, greeting everyone who came by, but she could see the exhaustion growing in his face. Just as she finished with the last person, a loud voice rang out drawing her attention.

‘Malcolm Cameron, what do you think you are doing?’

For a moment, she lost her place and time. She heard the name and stumbled to the doorway, almost expecting to see her Malcolm there before her. Staring into the road there instead she saw Davidh’s approach. Anna shook herself from the shock and glanced at Colm, who sat there watching his father walk towards them.

Colm.

Malcolm.

He had truly named his son after his closest friend.

‘You are not supposed to be out here!’ Davidh said sharply.

* * *

‘Papa, Mistress Mackenzie said I could.’

Davidh had only been watching his son and now caught sight of the healer as she stepped into the sun’s light. He did not know who looked paler at that moment—her or his son. Crouching down before Colm where he sat on a stool, he studied his face and listened, as he always did, to his breathing. Though pale, he did not struggle to draw a breath.

‘Well, if Mistress Mackenzie gave her approval, I cannot naysay her.’ He read the relief on Colm’s face then. How long had it been since his son had been outside this cottage or theirs? He glanced up and met Anna’s gaze then. ‘And what else did Mistress Mackenzie have to say?’

‘If he rests today and follows my instructions, he may walk about in the village a bit with his friends on the morrow,’ she replied.

‘From the look of him, he has not done the first.’

‘Nay, not yet. This morn, I was grateful for his help with the others who came to see me.’

Davidh stood then and touched his son’s shoulder.

‘You look tired, son.’

He could see the struggle within the boy. He did not wish to go back inside and yet his strength was fading. Considering that he’d been up and about more in these last two days than he had in weeks and weeks, Davidh was more than willing to listen to the healer’s advice. Whatever doubts had initially assailed him had faded in the face of the results in his son.

‘Since we have finished our work, I think it a good time for you to rest, Mal-colm.’

She stuttered over his son’s name. Oh, she’d heard him use his proper name. But a glance at her face revealed something else or something more was behind her stammer.

‘There you go then. Mistress Mackenzie has so spoken and we cannot argue with her. Well, you could, but I suspect that her promise to release you from this doorway depends on you obeying now.’

Colm grumbled as he stood, waved farewell to his friends and walked in slow, delaying steps inside. Davidh fought the smile that threatened to break out on his face since it would ruin the serious attitude he was forcing himself to show. He found he needed to turn away rather than watch as Colm sighed over and over as he lay down on the pallet. It was the short time it took for his son to fall asleep that reminded Davidh of his true condition and need for rest.

‘I...’ There was so much to thank her for doing, yet the words would not come.

‘I have given Suisan something new to try over the next few days,’ she said. She blocked his view of his son then, standing closer so her words did not carry inside. ‘The vapours seem to be helping.’

‘Aye, they have. He barely coughs.’ Again, words of gratitude swirled around, but none seemed good enough for what she’d accomplished. ‘Anna...’

‘The thing is, Davidh, this is only the beginning. The weakness in his lungs will not stop because of a few concoctions or using the vapours for a couple of nights.’ Why was she trying to dissemble with her words? To what purpose was it to undermine what she’d accomplished here?

‘He has been ill for some time,’ he said. ‘I understand that it could take time.’

‘Or not.’

He heard her words, but he did not want to accept them. That tiny bit of hope that he always carried in his soul for his son had burst into a stronger one just over the last two days. Could he contain and dampen it now? Must he? She reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

‘Sometimes it does not proceed as I expect it to and if, if, this does not work...’ She paused then and stared out towards the village. ‘I do not wish to raise your hopes without making certain you understand the true situation here, Davidh.’

‘I am afraid ’tis too late for that, Anna.’

She blinked several times and looked at him. He shrugged.

‘I understand the situation, Colm’s situation, for I have watched other bairns and wee ones die of things like this.’ A single tear trickled from the corner of her left eye and he wanted to reach out and wipe it away. He stepped back instead. ‘I will take whatever days your treatments give him. The rest is in the Almighty’s hands.’

She walked past him then and he heard the soft groan as she did so. Watching her, he noticed the signs of discomfort or pain in the way she walked now.

‘Mistress Mackenzie, are you yourself in need of a healer?’

She laughed then and the sound of it made his heart beat faster.

‘Aye, I think I might. Do you know one?’

‘Old Ranald is good if you need anything hacked away.’ The jesting relieved the tension in him.

‘Nay, not that. I just need to walk a bit after crouching and bending for so long. I will not keep you from your duties, Commander.’

‘Come,’ he said, motioning with his hand ahead of him. ‘I am not expected back for some time yet and I can show you the rest of the village if you have not walked it yourself.’

‘I would like that,’ she said, following him to the road, then walking at his side.

They walked along that main road and Davidh pointed out the important places of their village—the smithy she knew, but the baker, the miller near the stream and the weavers she did not. Word had spread about her and many came out to greet her. Some she called by name which surprised him at first, but she told him that she had seen them just a short while before his arrival.

Davidh guided her as far as the stream that led north to the river that connected Loch Arkaig to Loch Lochy. To reach the falls and her cottage she would follow the river to the mouth of Loch Arkaig, cross the small bridge there and head around to the northern side of the river. The river that rushed over the falls fed back into the River Arkaig. The most surprising thing about the walk was that Davidh found it easy to talk to her. Giving her bits of gossip and explaining the connections between this person and that one continued as they made their way back to the smithy.

‘You did not show me where you live.’

He had not time to ponder her curiosity, for a man came running towards them, shouting out his name. Only then did Davidh realise he’d lost all sense of time as he’d walked with Anna. Robert expected him after the noon meal to meet with the steward and Davidh had forgotten all about it.

He could blame it on the sight of his son, sitting outside for the first time in weeks. He could and that would have been part of it. The other part was that he’d been enjoying himself too much and, for that short time, he’d forgotten his duty. He’d forgotten his duty.

Davidh nodded at the messenger and faced Anna.

‘I must go.’ She nodded. ‘Will you be back on the morrow?’

‘I will be back in a few days. There is so much to do before I will have enough to help those in the village.’

He wanted to argue with her, but he could not now. Any anger or frustration he felt was his own fault, so he took his leave with a hurried word of gratitude. Davidh cursed silently first, with every step he ran to the smithy to claim his horse and then with every stride of his horse after he mounted and as he rode to the keep.

Never in his life, never since taking command, had he ever forgotten to carry out a task or duty or responsibility. Never. Not even when Colm suffered the worst of his affliction.

But this young woman arrived, bringing help to his son and appealing to him more than any woman before or since Mara, and he allowed her to distract him. From his duty.

This could not happen again.

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