She froze. “I was flogged in Stirling.”
“Flogged? Hold on, let me have a look.” Amy came closer, and Amber felt a light touch on one of her sutures. “The wounds look good, though someone did a very rough job. But these stiches need to come out so you don’t get an infection. Do you want me to do that? I brought some medical supplies with me the second time around.”
“Can you do take them out?”
“Of course. Here, lie down,” she said. Amber lay on the bed, and Amy went to one of the chests and began rummaging in them.
“You still have your modern shoes, I see? Hold on to them. They’re so much warmer than these.” She showed Amber a leather shoe with a flat sole. “I’ll ask my maid to order some in the village for you. You’ll need them sooner than you think.”
“Thanks so much.”
She found a metal flask, no doubt from the twenty-first century, and something that looked like a first aid kit. “I wish there’d been someone for me in the beginning to help with all this stuff.”
She came back to the bed and placed her tools on the covers. She took out sharp scissors, tweezers, cotton swabs, and adhesive bandages. Wow, the woman was a miracle.
“So this is what you do as a wife?” Amber said. “Run the house?”
A liquid gurgled shortly—alcohol, as far as Amber could smell. Amy rubbed a wet cotton against Amber’s wounds, and they stung. “Yes. Craig and I have our own estate, but we came here because it’s safer. He has to go with the Bruce a lot, and he’d rather keep me and the baby in the castle. We don’t have as many men as Neil and Dougal have.”
“What did you do before—back in the States?”
Amy took the scissors and the tweezers, and Amber felt a small tug against her back, then a pulling, stinging sensation. “I was a search and rescue officer.”
“I was in the military. An officer, served in Afghanistan.”
Amy put a small part of the catgut thread in a wooden bowl. “Oh, wow. A warrior woman…”
“Not anymore.”
There was another pull and the snap of the scissors. “If I ask why, you won’t tell me, will you?”
Amy sighed heavily. “I don’t think you want to know.”
She was pretty sure Amy wouldn’t want a suspected murderer anywhere near her family.
“So if I’m not a soldier anymore—or a warrior, or whatever it’s called here—what can I do to earn my living?”
Amy chuckled. “Good question. Most women get married and run households. But I gather that’s not what you want to do?”
“Definitely not.”
“Some women brew beer and sell it to taverns. They’re called alewives, and they do really well for themselves. Some own and run taverns and inns. Farming is essential, though you probably can’t do it alone. You can also work in the castle. There’s plenty to do here. Women work for the lady of the house as maids, wet nurses, and so on. Do you have any medical skills?”
“Only basic stuff. Stopping bleeding, stabilizing broken bones, and so on. Just what combat lifesaver training entails.”
“Right, so you can’t be a healer?”
“What, administering herbs and leeches?” Amber chuckled. “No. Nor do I want to.”
“And I assume you don’t want to be a nun?”
Amber chuckled again. “I’d rather brew beer.”
Amy’s fingers moved faster now. Click, click, click, went the scissors. “Stay with me then, until you get used to this life, until you know what you want to do.”
Amber released a long breath, her chest aching dully. Here she was, thousands of miles and hundreds of years away from home, and yet she’d met warm, kind people who cared about her.
Still, she’d be a fool to completely trust strangers. And she didn’t want to be an imposition. Her first instinct was to leave and make her own fortune. But Owen was right. There seemed to be more danger to a woman alone these days, especially since she looked so differently than everyone else, and the English were still out there hunting for her. She could always leave later, once she knew how she could earn her living and lead a safe life.
“Thank you, Amy,” she said. “I really appreciate your kindness. Owen also insisted I stay until it’s safe, as his guest.”
Amy pulled on one knot too hard, and Amber bit her lip.
“Okay, then it’s settled,” Amy said. “You’re staying with us. I’m so glad to meet another time traveler.”
“I’ll stay, but only if I can repay your kindness one day.”
“Oh, please, don’t worry.” Tug. Click. Tug. Click. “So what’s going on between Owen and you, by the way?”
Amber felt heat rush to her face. “Nothing. We were unfortunate enough to get kidnapped together, and he saved my life when I was flogged. Now he insists I’m his guest and under his protection.”
“Under his protection? Really…”
“I don’t want it. It’s overprotection. He even gave me his bedroom. I really appreciate the gesture, but honestly, I just want to be left alone.”
Correction. What she wanted was him. But having him was out of the question, no matter how out of breath he made her, how alive he made her feel—like she could finally relax and be herself, to not need to justify her very existence.
She could be who she really was with him.
Amy cocked one eyebrow. “I don’t think being so protective is very typical of him.”
“And what’s typical of him?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him with the same woman twice. And yet he’s giving you his bedroom and taking you under his wing.”
Amber shook her head, but her pulse accelerated. “He just feels responsible for me.”
“Owen might be a joker, and he might make mistakes, but he means well. And I know if it comes down to it, he’ll defend his clan until his dying breath. He might be a playboy, but once he falls in love, I don’t think he’ll fall out of it. Mark my words, it’ll be forever.”
Amber chewed on the inner side of her cheek. Fall in love… She remembered his lips on her, the way he called her “lass.” From his lips, the word sounded charged with pure sunshine. But he wasn’t in love with her. Of course not. Maybe a little infatuated, but nothing more.
And yet a tiny part of her heart wished he was in love with her. He was a wonderful man, the best man she’d ever met in her life. He wasn’t perfect—and that was exactly why she loved him.
Loved him?
No, she didn’t love him. How could she after such a short time together? Maybe she was infatuated with him. She definitely was very attracted to him. How could she not be? He was absolutely gorgeous. Simply being in the same room with him brought her a deep sense of peace, as though she’d finally found a part of her soul she’d lost a long time ago. As though finally, the hard journey was over, and she arrived home.
The only thing was how could she trust that feeling?
Chapter 22
Three days later…
* * *
Owen slammed the door to the stables shut behind him. The warm scent of horses, hay, and manure enveloped him, taking him away from the heated discussion he’d just had with his father. It seemed everything Owen did aggravated Dougal.