Page 11 of A Healer for the Wicked Highlander

Freya tilted her head, her brown eyes holding his for a beat longer than he liked. “He’s stable for now,” she continued, her tone gentle. “Yer presence willnae change that. Surely, there are matters in the castle that need yer attention.”

Michael exhaled sharply, his gaze falling to his son’s pale face. “I have moved me affairs here, so I can take care of both. Daenae worry about that, lass.”

Freya studied him quietly for a moment, then nodded. “I understand,” she said simply, her voice softening.

Her calm acknowledgment threw him off balance. For a moment, the room felt smaller, quieter, as if it was just the two of them standing in a shared understanding.

She offered a faint, reassuring smile and reached to adjust Cody’s blanket. “He’s a fortunate lad to have such a good faither.”

The sincerity in her voice was too much, cutting through his defenses. Michael’s spine straightened, and he quickly stepped back, his features hardening.

“Daenae waste time on sentiment,” he snapped, his tone harsher than he intended.

Freya blinked, taken aback but not rattled. She nodded once and returned her focus to Cody.

Michael turned away, pretending to inspect the room, though his jaw was clenched. He hated the pull he felt in her presence, the way her quiet strength unsettled him. This wasn’t the time for tenderness—or distraction. Cody was his only priority.

Still, as he glanced back at her briefly, her profile illuminated by the light filtering through the window, he felt that fleeting pang again. Michael shoved it aside, burying it under layers of gruff resolve. There was no room for anything else right now.

Ye must get better, me lad. Ye must…

CHAPTER SEVEN

“We barely found anythin’,” Marissa said, holding up a small bundle of herbs as soon as they returned. Her frustration was palpable, but she handed over the carefully tied bunch. “The forest is almost bare this time of year, but we gathered what we could.”

“It’ll have to do,” Freya said, taking the bundle with a nod. “Thank ye both. Ye did well.”

Abigail wiped her hands on her cloak, her voice a mix of exhaustion and pride. “We tried, Freya. I hope it’s enough.”

Freya placed a gentle hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “It’s more than enough,” she reassured her younger sister before ushering both girls inside.

As the door closed, Freya carried the herbs to the small table by the window, laying them out carefully. Michael and the girls hovered nearby, watching her with varying degrees of curiosityand concern. She could feel their eyes on her as she grabbed her pestle and mortar, along with a set of small bottles from her satchel.

“Now, let’s see what we’ve got,” Freya muttered to herself, her fingers deftly separating the leaves and roots. She chose the feverfew and willow bark first, crushing them together in the mortar with rhythmic motions.

“The feverfew will help bring his temperature down, and the willow bark eases inflammation and pain. It’s basic but effective,” she explained as she was working.

She added a pinch of elderflower to the mixture, grinding it all together until it formed a coarse powder. Then, she poured a measured amount of liquid—honey and water, carefully preserved—into the mortar, mixing until it turned into a paste.

Marissa and Abigail leaned closer, their eyes wide as Freya worked with practiced precision. “It’s like magic every time,” Abigail whispered, her admiration clear.

Freya smiled faintly, but she didn’t let her focus waver. “Nae magic, just a bit of knowledge and patience.”

When the mixture was ready, she poured it into a small bowl and added warm water, stirring until it dissolved into a thin liquid. She turned to Michael, who had been watching intently, his expression unreadable.

“This should help break his fever,” Freya said, holding the bowl. “It’s mild enough for a child but effective.”

Michael nodded, stepping aside to let her sit by Cody’s bedside again. Freya took a spoon and gently coaxed the liquid into Cody’s mouth, her movements careful and deliberate. As she worked, the tension in the room seemed to ease, if only slightly.

Freya leaned back after ensuring Cody had swallowed every drop, her fingers brushing his forehead to check his temperature. “We’ll need to monitor him closely,” she said, glancing at Michael.

The laird nodded again, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. Freya turned back to her tools, already thinking ahead to the next steps, but she couldn’t shake the weight of the room’s collective hope resting on her shoulders.

“Freya is very good at what she does,” Abigail said proudly. “Ye ken, she healed me best friend once.”

“Did she now?” Michael asked, surprising everyone.

“Aye!” Abigail nodded. “Susannah was coughin’ terribly and Freya made her all better, so we could go and play by the stream again.”