Page 9 of Trapped by the Wicked Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #2)
CHAPTER NINE
H unter checked on Elena once more. Then after an hour, returned to check on Cassandra. He stood by the open door, his arms folded across his chest as he watched Cassandra work. She moved with precision, her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully prepared the poultice.
"All well in here, lass?" he asked.
She jumped. "For God's sake. Ye frightened me," she said.
"Apologies, lass."
"Aye, all is well. I just need more time," she said as her gaze returned to the work.
There was something captivating about the way she threw herself into the task, the way her hands seemed to dance with the rhythm of the work. It wasn’t just her skills as a healer that caught his attention, but the way she seemed so at ease in her element, her focus unwavering.
I must confess, I admire the lass.
As he observed her, Hunter found himself struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. The intensity on her face, the slight furrow of her brow, and the way her hands worked so deftly—all of it made her seem more than just a healer. He told himself it was foolish to think such things, that he was seeing her through the lens of his own desires, which were better left unacknowledged.
She's a healer, nothin’ more, and me focus should remain on the immediate task at hand.
Hunter felt a pang of unease in his chest as memories of those he had lost over the years flashed before his eyes. The thought of getting too close to someone again was a dangerous one—one that had cost him dearly in the past.
Anyone who grew close to him, who learned to trust him, ended up gone in one way or another. The faces of his past—his parents, his wife, his comrades—haunted him, each one a painful reminder of the consequences of allowing someone into his life.
He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts that threatened to consume him. He had been living with this burden for years, and it had made him cold, distant, and unwilling to let anyone get too close.
Cassandra, with her fiery spirit and her calm professionalism, was no exception. He couldn’t afford to let himself be distracted by her—no matter how captivating she was.
"I'll just take a seat," he said as he moved to a chair in the corner of the room.
"Aye, do as ye please. ‘Tis yer castle," she said.
He cleared his throat, pushing the thoughts aside as Cassandra finished preparing the poultice. She moved with the same calm precision that had drawn his attention in the first place. Hunter watched her for a moment longer, admiring the way she worked without hesitation, and then reminded himself of why he was here.
It wasn’t to admire her or think about her in ways he shouldn’t. It was to ensure that his people, including his daughter, were taken care of.
Hunter sat back in the chair, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, yet his mind wouldn’t quiet. The day had been long, and the responsibility of caring for his people weighed heavily on his shoulders. He’d been on edge since the illness first struck, but now, with Cassandra working to heal his people, he allowed himself a rare moment of rest. His eyes drifted shut, and the rhythmic sounds of Cassandra moving about the room lulled him into a light sleep.
Hours passed, and Hunter stirred at the feel of a soft nudge against his arm. He blinked and lifted his head, finding Cassandra standing beside him, a small smile playing on her lips.
“The mixture’s ready,” she said, her voice soft yet steady. Hunter rubbed his face, shaking off the drowsiness, and stood up, straightening his tunic as he nodded.
“We should give it to the patients at once,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep.
Cassandra agreed with a small nod of her own, her expression focused and serious as she gathered the bowl of medicine. Hunter led the way, his thoughts momentarily distracted as he wondered how long it would take before they saw results. He hoped it would be soon, as the castle was filled with too many sick, helpless people for his liking.
They first made their way to Elena’s side, the soft sound of Cassandra’s footsteps following closely behind. The sight of Elena lying there, pale and still, caused a sharp pang in Hunter’s chest, but he quickly pushed the feeling aside.
“She’ll recover, aye?” Hunter asked, his voice barely above a whisper as Cassandra approached.
Cassandra nodded, her hands steady as she began administering the medicine to the unconscious woman.
“She’ll be fine soon enough, I believe but I daenae want to give false hope, there's always a chance this may nae work,” Cassandra told him.
"Aye, I understand. Deliver me the news whether ‘tis bad or good. I simply must ken all," he said.
Hunter watched intently, taking note of the way she moved with such care, even in the face of this illness that had taken so many. There was something so compelling about her, the way she commanded attention without even trying. He told himself again that he couldn’t afford to let his thoughts wander, but it didn’t stop the way he looked at her with admiration.
Once Elena had taken the medicine, they moved about the room, and Hunter followed Cassandra. The place was still crowded with patients, their faces gaunt from the fever, their bodies weak from the strain of the illness.
Hunter could see the weight of responsibility in Cassandra’s eyes, but she didn’t hesitate. She went to each person with quiet determination, carefully administering the medicine to each one, as if their well-being rested solely in her hands.
"I'm here, lass. Daenae hesitate to use me," he said.
"Aye, I will indeed," she said. "Hold this."
Hunter grabbed a satchel from her carrying the medicine and moved with her from patient to patient.
He stayed close behind, his gaze fixed on her every movement. He couldn’t help but watch the way she worked, her concentration evident in every step she took. She was meticulous, precise, and even in the midst of the chaos around them, she remained calm. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, though neither of them acknowledged it.
Hunter shook his head, frustrated with himself. He needed to focus on the illness, on the safety of his people, and nothing else. But every time Cassandra glanced back at him, every time their eyes met, it was like his resolve weakened. He could feel the pull of her, and for the first time in years, he found himself struggling to resist it.
“That’s it. All the medicine’s been administered. Now, all we can do is wait.” As she finished the last of the patients, Cassandra turned to him, her voice soft but sure.
Hunter felt a rush of relief but also an aching tension in his chest. He knew that it wasn’t over yet, but Cassandra’s calm reassurance gave him some comfort, even if just for a moment.
“Ye’ve done a good job, lass,” Hunter said, his voice gruff with gratitude. “But ye need a break. Ye’ve been workin’ all day. Ye’ll go for a walk with me—fresh air will do ye good.”
His tone left no room for argument, and he watched Cassandra meet his gaze, considering his request for a moment.
After a beat, Cassandra nodded. “Aye, I suppose a walk wouldnae hurt.”
She followed him as he led her out of the castle and into the meadow beyond, the wide expanse of green offering a sense of peace that the castle’s walls couldn’t provide. The sky was clear, the morning sun shining down in a gentle embrace, and for a moment, everything felt still.
The meadow stretched before them, a sea of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. As they walked side by side, Cassandra spoke first, her voice soft against the hum of nature.
“It feels strange, bein’ away from the castle for a while,” she said, her gaze on the distant horizon. “The air’s different out here.”
Hunter glanced at her, his thoughts briefly drifting from the illness and back to her.
“Aye, it’s peaceful here. Much better than bein’ cooped up in there, nay doubt.” He paused, his eyes scanning the horizon before he added, “The clan’s strong, though. They’ll pull through. We’ve seen worse.”
“Aye, they are a strong bunch. I’ve noticed it. The way they support each other, even when they’re all sick. It’s somethin’ I admire.” She paused for a moment, her words weighing in the air before she continued, “I think it’s what makes them who they are—the McDougal clan, I mean.”
Hunter felt a swell of pride at her words. He had always known his people were resilient, but hearing it from someone outside the clan made it feel more real.
“They’ve been through much in their time,” he said, his voice softening. “We’ve faced enemies, lost kin, but still, we stand. I’m proud of them.”
Cassandra nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “It’s clear, Hunter. Ye care about them deeply. It’s more than just a duty for ye, isn’t it? It’s family.”
Her words, though simple, carried a weight of understanding that caught him off guard. He wasn’t used to people seeing him like that, seeing past the walls he had built over the years.
Hunter’s throat tightened slightly, but he forced a smile. “Aye, they’re family. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them.” His gaze shifted toward the castle, where he knew his people were still recovering. “I couldnae imagine lettin’ them down.”
“They’re lucky to have ye,” Cassandra said, her tone sincere. “I daenae ken if I’ve ever met someone who carries the weight of their clan the way ye do. It’s nay small task.” She paused and added, almost as if to herself, “But I reckon they’d follow ye anywhere.”
Hunter felt a strange warmth spread through him at her words, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t seek praise, but hearing her say it, hearing her see him in a way that few did, made him feel something deep inside.
“I do it because I have to,” he replied, though the words felt hollow in the face of what she had said. “But it’s nae about me. It’s about them.”
The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, their footsteps in sync with each other. The meadow felt endless, the wide sky above them offering a sense of freedom neither had known in recent days. For a brief moment, the weight of the illness, the responsibilities, and the tensions between them seemed to vanish into the fresh air.
“Ye were right,” Cassandra said after a while, breaking the silence. “The fresh air does help. I feel a bit lighter.” She smiled at him, the expression soft and unguarded. “Thank ye, Hunter.”
Hunter gave a small nod, his eyes meeting hers. “It’s the least I could do, lass.” The air between them was quiet but charged, as if something unsaid hung in the space between their words. And for a fleeting moment, Hunter allowed himself to imagine a life where he didn’t have to carry the burden alone.