Page 3 of A Healer for the Obsessed Highlander
She didn’t need to say more—Annabeth knew what she meant. She thought about what would happen.
What will we do if we can’t make up the rest of the rent in time? Where will we go?
Annabeth smiled, though it was strained, and placed her cup down gently on the table. “Ye shouldnae worry,” she reassured, her voice warm but firm. “I'll sort it, I promise ye that. I’ll find a way. I’ll speak to the villagers or take on extra work—whatever it takes. Ye’ve done enough for me already. Ye’ve always been there, and now, it’s me turn to look after ye.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes wide with concern. “Annabeth, ye’ve always been there for me, and now, ye say it’s yer turn? Ye’re the one who does all the healing, and ye’ve been lookin’after me since…” She trailed off, her voice cracking. “I’m the maither here, lass. It shouldnae be like this.”
“Ye’re the best maither I could have ever asked for,” Annabeth replied quietly, her voice tinged with gratitude. “But ye’ve been in so much pain these past months. Yer back still gives ye trouble, and ye’ve nay need to strain yerself with the work. Let me do this, aye? It’s the least I can do for everything ye’ve done for me.”
Claire squeezed Annabeth’s hands, her eyes filling with a mix of sorrow and love. “Annabeth,” she whispered, “taking ye in when I did was the best decision I ever made. I daenae regret a moment of it, and I never will. Ye’re like me own flesh and blood, lass.”
Annabeth shook her head, her heart full as she gazed at the woman who had raised her.
“Ye daenae need to say that,” she squeezed Claire’s hand in return. “I’ll take care of us, I swear it. I’ll make sure we have enough, and we’ll be fine.”
She meant the words as a comfort, but the truth was she didn’t know how she would do such a thing. It seemed a hopeless situation as her world came to be so fragile on the edge of being out in the streets with nothing.
Claire looked into Annabeth’s eyes with love.
“I just hate seeing ye work so hard, Annabeth. Ye’ve got the heart of a lion, but ye shouldnae have to carry all this on yer own. We’ll find a way, together, aye?”
I daenae want her to have to lift a finger with her back injured, but I ken she will nae back down til I agree.
Annabeth nodded though a small sigh escaped her lips. “Together, aye,” she agreed, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Claire was already carrying more than she should.
For Claire, the woman that took me in and saved me when I had nowhere to turn, I would do whatever it takes, wherever it leads me.
Early the next morning, Annabeth wrapped her shawl around herself and headed into the center of the village. She approached the baker’s stall.
“Mr. Callum, I was wonderin’ if ye might have a need for some help?”
The stout man shook his head regretfully. “Ach, lass, I’d hire ye in a heartbeat if I could, but I can barely keep me own lad’s help these days. Times are tight, ye ken?”
“Yes, of course. Thank ye,” she responded and moved down the lane inquiring at every stall and shop.
“Nae, Annabeth,” the seamstress said before she could finish her inquiry. “I’ve nae enough thread to finish what I’ve got, let alone the coin to take on help. I’m truly sorry, lass.”
She continued on her search as some villagers avoided her altogether, their guilt evident on their faces.
Others, like the cobbler, were rude and snapped, “I’ve nay work nor coin to spare.”
At the blacksmith’s forge, the answer was the same. “Sorry, lass. Times are hard for us all,” he grumbled.
“But I can learn fast. Perhaps I can be an apprentice for some time and…”
“Nay, lass. I have nae the work nor time to spare. I am sorry,” he said. “And with talk of raids spreading across the lands…”
“Raids? What raids?” Annabeth’s eyes grew wide.
“’Tis talk in the village; the McArthur clan is making raids on their farms and villages. I ken we could be next at any moment. These be uncertain times, lass.”
“Thank ye, I should head back home,” she said seeing that the sun moved toward the horizon.
The day turned into evening as Annabeth trudged home feeling defeated. She had inquired at every place she could think of and failed.
Are we safe from these raids? Our cottage is on the outskirts of the village, and travelers usually come across our cottage first, which now could be dangerous.
The heavy feeling pressed down on her as she opened the door to the cottage.
