Healer

Chapter 4

"You don't think it will infect?" I whisper awkwardly, seated on the edge of my bed. He glances at the open door, shaking his head.

"You'll be fine. Just wanted to get the blood off ye."

I smile as he hands me a cup. I look down at the liquid, seeing tea leaves. "Tea?"

"Chamomile. Should calm your nerves."

Something I'm familiar with. I nod, smiling softly. "Thank you, sir. You really didn't need to go through the work."

He sets down the rest of the chamomile into the bin and glances at me. "Aye, I did... Now, let me see your arm."

I lower the material on my shoulder, revealing the scratches and he walks over to the fire, lowering some cloth into the boiling water.

"Will ye tell me the truth- if I ask? As your physician?"

"Yes," I whisper, unsurely.

"Did he-?"

I swallow with difficulty, immediately shaking my head. "No, no... he didn't."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm- ... You know, what? I don't even know your name, I've just realized."

He reaches into the water, taking out the cloth with his bare hands and smiles, glancing over at me. "MacCallan Mackenzie- well, MacCallan Gordon Grant Mackenzie but most tend to find that a mouthful."

"It's beautiful," I whisper as he bends down before me, grabbing my arm. He presses the cloth to my shoulder, giving me ample time to gaze at his features, which are also- quite beautiful.

His hair, pulled back now is dark, a rather dark black and long- even in a ponytail, it ends at the edge of his shoulders. To make him even more unbelievable, his eyes are like clouds, stormy clouds- a dark grey hue to draw you in and they do, very easily.

I find him watching me, cautiously and I realize I've started to lean closer to him without even noticing it. Glancing down, I realize my dress has fallen considerably, exposing the curves of my breasts. My cheeks set on fire and I move back, clearing my throat as I pull it up. Looking down awkwardly, he backs up, straightening.

"Alright... Make sure ye drink the tea. It will help- I promise."

"I will, thank you, sir."

"Please, Callan, for ye. I'm not a formal man... I haven't got your name."

I chuckle, rolling my eyes at my loss of a brain, sticking out my hand without thinking. "Gillian Grant Clarke."

His creamy blue eyes flicker down to my outstretched hand in confusion but he nods, grabbing it anyway. I realize, stupidly, that women don't usually shake hands.

Grabbing the bins and his cap, he nods. "Well, I'll leave ye now. I've got a study in the castle, in case ye ever need anything. I'll only be here another three days before I set home to see my relatives but I'm sure we'll meet again."

Three days? I'm surprised at my reluctance to let him leave. He must notice because he smiles, kindly.

"I'm sure the man has been dealt with accordingly, miss. There's no need to worry- he willnae come here searchin' for ye... Just be careful, walking at night, especially when the men are crazed with drink."

I nod, holding the dress to my chest as he walks towards the open door. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Miss Gillian."