“When ye said we’re no’ taking nay fer an answer,” Donnan said slowly. “Did ye mean . . . ?”
“I meant exactly what it sounds like,” Evina assured him. “We’ll kidnap the bastard if we have to, but Rory Buchanan has to return with us. I’ll no’ let father die for lack o’ the right healer.”
Donnan nodded, but then pointed out, “It could mean war with the Buchanans.”
“Then we’ll battle the Buchanans,” she said grimly, and turned to peer at him. “Is that a problem?”
Donnan shook his head. “Nay, m’lady. I pledged me fealty to yer father. I’d give me life fer him. I just wanted to be sure ye kenned the consequences o’ this action.”
“I ken the consequences,” Evina assured him solemnly. “And I would give me life for me father too. If it takes a war to save him, then war it shall be.”
Donnan was silent for a moment, and then said gently, “Rory Buchanan may no’ be able to heal him either. Yer father may be beyond help.”
“Mayhap,” she agreed. “But I’d also give me life for just a chance at saving him. Hopefully, it’ll no’ come to war though, and the Buchanan will come willingly.”
“I’m thinking that does no’ seem likely,” Donnan said dryly, and nodded toward the waterfall again.
Evina turned her head quickly, her eyes widening as she saw that Gavin had reached the Buchanan and, rather than talking, the two men were now grappling under the waterfall. Even as she noted that, the pair tumbled off the low ledge they’d stood on and into the river itself.
“Huh,” Evina muttered, pursing her lips as she watched the pair rolling and bobbing in the water, alternately wrestling, punching and appearing to try to drown each other. “Ye may be right.”
“I’m thinking Gavin might need a hand,” Donnan said after several minutes had passed with the men continuing to struggle.
“Aye,” Evina agreed with concern as she watched the Buchanan force her cousin under the water and hold him there. When Gavin didn’t reappear, or roll the other man under, Donnan dismounted, intending to go help.
Quite sure he’d never make it there in time on foot, Evina cursed and put her heels to her mount. The mare responded at once, bursting into a sprint that took her to the water’s edge before Donnan had crossed half the distance. Evina rode right into the water, drawing her sword out as she did. Once next to the man holding Gavin under the water’s surface, she reined in hard enough to make her mare rear in the water.
The Buchanan turned a startled face up toward her, their eyes met briefly, and then Evina brought her sword down. The hilt of her weapon slammed into the side of his head with force. She watched him wince in pain and then lose consciousness as her mare settled on all four hooves again in the water.
The moment the Buchanan released Gavin, her cousin reared up out of the water, sputtering. Relief pouring through her, Evina sheathed her sword and slid quickly off her mare’s back. She landed in the waist-high water next to the men even as Donnan rushed into the river to approach them.
“Help Gavin,” she ordered, noting the way the young man was swaying as he stood up. She didn’t wait to watch the man obey, but moved to the Buchanan. Grabbing the healer by the shoulder, she turned him in the water. Her face pinched with concern when she noted his pallor, but she quickly shifted her hold to his hand and dragged him toward shore.
The healer was surprisingly heavy. Evina only managed to pull him halfway out of the river before she had to stop, but at least his head and chest were out. Once she’d dragged him as far as she could onto the grassy shore, she dropped to her knees beside him and quickly turned him on his stomach. Evina then placed her hands on his back and pushed hard and fast, once and then again. Water immediately poured from his mouth and nose. When a third such push didn’t bring up any more, she turned him over. When she saw that the man wasn’t breathing, she didn’t hesitate, but pinched his nose, opened his mouth and bent to blow her breath into it.
“Er . . . m’lady?” Donnan said, sounding uncertain as he let a coughing and hacking Gavin drop to his knees next to her. “What are ye doing?”
“Breathing for him,” she muttered between breaths. “Me mother did this to me brother when he near drowned as a lad. It revived him,” she explained as she pressed on the Buchanan’s chest, before bending to cover his mouth with hers again.
“Looks more like yer kissing on him,” Donnan said dubiously, and Gavin released a chuckle of amusement that was raspy and sent him into another coughing fit.
Evina ignored both men and bent to press her ear to the unconscious man’s chest. Much to her relief she heard his heart beat and the sound of his drawing breath into his lungs on his own. Straightening then, she peered down at him expectantly, but he didn’t open his eyes.
“Ye hit him pretty hard, m’lady,” Donnan pointed out solemnly. “He may no’ wake up for a bit, but he’s breathing now on his own at least.”
“Aye,” she sighed the word, her eyes sliding over the man’s face. He was really quite handsome. She hadn’t expected that. She’d heard tales of his skill as a healer, but not one of those stories had mentioned that he was a good-looking man. She’d imagined a plain-faced, scrawny, bookish man like the priests, who were the only learned men she knew of. Instead, he had a pretty face and a strapping body, she noted, her gaze sliding down his wide, naked chest to his tapered waist. The rest of him was still submerged in water so Evina couldn’t look farther.
“M’lady?” Donnan said quietly, drawing her reluctant gaze. “Mayhap we’d best get moving. If one o’ his brothers come looking for him and finds him like this . . .”
“Aye.” Evina stood abruptly, ignoring the way her wet skirts dragged at her. She glanced quickly around the clearing, but once assured they were still alone, turned her attention to Gavin as his coughing fit ended and he spat in the dirt. “Are ye all right, Gav? Can ye ride?”
“Aye,” he growled, staggering to his feet.
Evina watched him with concern, but he appeared mostly recovered. At least he wasn’t swaying or coughing anymore and there was color in his cheeks. Nodding, she turned back to the water, a grimace claiming her lips when her skirts slapped cold and wet against her legs. Her mare still stood where she’d left her, and Evina waded back into the water to reclaim her reins and lead her back onto land.
“What do ye want us to do with the Buchanan?” Donnan asked as he watched her mount her mare.
Evina settled in the saddle, arranged her skirts the best she could sitting astride as she was and then glanced down to the naked, unconscious man on the ground. He really was a pretty man, a pleasure to look on, she thought, but said, “Bind him hand and foot, toss him over his horse’s back, and then tie him hand to foot to be sure he does no’ fall off.”
“Do I dress him first?” Donnan asked, not looking pleased at the thought, and Evina supposed pleating a plaid and dressing an unconscious fully grown male in it might be something of a task.
She shook her head. “Nay. Just throw his plaid over him once ye’ve ensured he’ll no’ fall off his mount as we ride. And mayhap tie it down somehow so it does no’ fall off him either.”