Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Shade picked up her basket and walked toward him. “Can I help you?”
“Are you the healer Shade?”
His voice held power even though he had not spoken loudly, and it almost brought her to an abrupt halt. “I am. Are you in need of healing?”
“Aye,” he said.
She got a better look at him as she got closer. A few wrinkles hugged the corner of his eyes and silver strands ran through his dark hair. It was obvious his youthful days had passed him by. Neither, however, hampered his features far finer up close and no doubt sent women’s hearts fluttering with one glance. And she was not immune to it, flutters rippling through her stomach. The color of his eyes, however, warned. The color reminded Shade of an approaching summer storm when the sky was a bold blue with a swirl of angry gray clouds. A storm brewed within the man, and she would not want to be around when he unleashed it. The quicker she tended to his wound the quicker he could be on his way.
She did not bother to tell him to follow her. He tethered his horse to a tree branch and stepped alongside her as soon as she stepped out of her garden and followed her to the cottage. Shade placed the basket on the bench near the door and wiped her hands on her apron as she asked, “How may I help you?”
He shoved his cloak off his left shoulder that remained covered and Shade almost gasped. Blood soaked his shoulder and sleeve. Her healing instincts took command.
“Take your cloak and shirt off and sit, she ordered with a nod at a bench to the side of the door. “I will be right back.” She scooped up the basket and went to enter the dwelling and stopped. “Remove those straps that hold your sword as well,” she ordered, nodding at the ones crossing his chest.
She disappeared inside, not waiting to see if he obeyed her. She grabbed a bucket from beneath the narrow table and cloths from a stack on the top. Her hand went to her healing pouch that hung from her belt. Not that she feared she wouldn’t find it there, but touching it always reassured her, reminded her that she was not alone when healing.
Shade stepped outside and went directly to the barrel of rainwater and dropped the bucket in it to fill it, then approached the man. She could not help but admire his toned body especially for a man not in his prime. She guessed his age to be around thirty or more years unless, of course, years of fighting had aged him, and he was younger than she thought.
“Your name?” she asked, finding it easier when tending to people to refer to them by name. It helped ease them, though she didn’t think this man needed easing.
“Quint,” he said.
“Quint,” she repeated as she soaked a cloth in the water and began to clean his wound. She focused on cleaning the blood away, her eyes never leaving his shoulder and arm. “So, Quint, what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter, just tend to it and I will be on my way.”
Once again, the command in his voice was powerful, but when it came to healing, her voice could be just as commanding. “I am afraid you won’t be going anywhere just yet.” She continued before he could argue with her. “The wound shows signs of turning putrid and—” She raised her hand intending to feel his forehead when his hand suddenly gripped her wrist. “Fever. I wish to feel your brow for signs of a fever.”
He released her hand, and she pressed her cool wrist against his brow and thought she heard him sigh softly. She also noticed that the storm brewing in his eyes was easing, but she was more concerned with the heat she felt on his brow.
“This is a knife wound and it went deep enough to possibly have hit the bone. It could have chipped the bone in which case it will be painful for quite a while. Then there is the slice down your arm nearly to your elbow. That tells me that you fought with the man, yanking the knife out and during the struggle the man ran it down your arm before you were able to stop him, leaving you with two wounds. Unless there are others you have yet to show me.”
“Nay, just the two,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers as if he was trying to see deeper inside her.
“I will tend to your wounds, but you need to remain here until I can be sure your fever doesn’t worsen and your wound doesn’t turn putrid.”
“Nay, clean it and bandage it and I will be on my way,” he ordered.
“I will not do that since I fear what may happen to you if it isn’t tended to properly.”