Then she hastily built up the fire and lit as many candles as she could lay hands on, so the room would be well lighted for what was to come.
To her surprise, the healer wasn’t a woman, but instead a young man named Nigel, about the age of Father Drummond. She frowned when he entered the chamber and began examining Graeme. She flew to Bowen’s side to question him on the ability of the younger man to tend to Graeme’s wounds.
Bowen assured her that all would be well and that the young warrior had much skill in healing. His mother had been the clan healer until her passing the winter before and she’d instructed him in the ways of healing.
But for Eveline, the final straw came when Nora and Mary pushed into the chamber, their intention to aid Nigel.
“Nay!” Eveline shrieked, flying forward to push them from the room. “Out! You’ll not touch him. Begone, all of you. Leave my husband to his brothers and to me. No one will touch him without my by-your-leave. I swear by all that’s holy I’ll cut off the head of the person who defies me in this.”
She was so distraught that in the end, Bowen and Teague firmly ordered the other women from Graeme’s chambers. Eveline went to Graeme’s bedside and looked earnestly at Nigel, who was cleaning the wound on Graeme’s head.
“Why hasn’t he awakened?” she asked anxiously. “Is it a serious injury? And what of the arrow?”
Nigel put his hand gently on Eveline’s. “My lady, ’tis too soon to tell. I don’t think the wound to his head is severe, but the longer he remains unconscious, the more it concerns me. I’ll have to remove the arrow, though, so perhaps ’tis more merciful that he remains unconscious, at least until the arrow is out.”
Eveline drew her hands away and then wrung them together fitfully. Bowen put his hand on Eveline’s shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. She turned to look at him.
“It will be all right, Eveline. Graeme has suffered far worse than this before. He’ll be just fine. You’ll see.”
The tears she’d been so valiantly trying to keep at bay flooded to the surface and a sob welled from her throat, painful from all the screaming she’d done.
“Come away,” Bowen said, his touch still gentle on her shoulder. “Allow Nigel to do what he must. Go and sit by the fire where you’ll be more comfortable. You suffered a terrible fall from the horse, and Nigel will need to look after you once he’s finished with Graeme.”
She rose shakily, reluctant to leave Graeme even for a moment. She hesitated, torn between the desire to warm herself by the fire and to remain with her husband.
Teague touched her arm and she slowly lifted her gaze to him.
“Eveline, come away. You’ve suffered a terrible shock. I don’t want you near Graeme when Nigel removes the arrow. ’Tis possible he could become combative and harm you without even realizing it.”
Numbly, she allowed Teague to guide her to the fire. He took one of the furs from the bed and draped it around her shoulders once she was settled on the bench.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
It took a moment for her mind to process the words on his lips, and then she slowly shook her head.
She hunched next to the fire, her gaze never leaving her husband as Nigel set about removing the arrow. At some point, Graeme must have roused because she saw movement and then Bowen and Teague moved quickly to subdue him and hold him down.
Eveline clamped a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry. It was all she could do not to run to Graeme’s side. She wanted him to know she was near. What if he thought she’d deserted him? Worse, what if he’d seen what she’d seen and thought she was behind the attack on him?
A moan tore from her throat, one that was audible because Teague and Bowen both yanked their heads around to look at her.
“He woke for a moment, Eveline,” Bowen said. “ ’Tis a good sign.”
She latched onto the tiny beacon of hope and pulled the fur tighter around her as she watched Nigel cut off the fletching of the arrow, leaving the smooth shaft to punch through the other side of Graeme’s shoulder. It would leave a gaping wound, but one much smaller than if they pulled it back the way it came.
Chills wracked her body as reaction set in. She shook uncontrollably and her teeth felt as though they would rattle right out of her head.
For how long she sat there, shivering and rocking back and forth, she wasn’t sure. Nigel finally leaned back, his hands bloody, but clutching the arrow that had been lodged in Graeme’s shoulder.
Then he began the slow process of cleaning the wounds and stitching them closed.
Bowen and Teague left Graeme’s bedside and came to sit on either side of Eveline. They positioned themselves slightly in front of her so she could see each of their faces.
“Are you all right?” Teague asked, his brow creased with concern.
It took a long moment for the words to sink in. Bowen and Teague exchanged worried glances and finally Eveline nodded.
They spoke of other things, but Eveline was too numb to comprehend. She knew they had questions. Aye, they would want to know the whole of it and she lived in terror for what she must tell them.
She closed her eyes, only wanting to escape the nightmare that had been thrust on her. Graeme couldn’t die. He couldn’t.
Bowen touched her arm again, but she sat, her gaze locked on the bed where Graeme lay. Finally, Bowen and Teague rose and moved away. She let her gaze follow them for a moment, only to see that they were discussing immediate action and would ride out with the men to scour the area for the interloper.