Wed to a Highland Warrior by Donna Fletcher Page B

grandmum talked about the sleeping dead and how difficult it was for them to escape it.”
    “You are not in danger helping the lad, are you?”
    “I do not know. I have never had the opportunity or misfortune to run across this before.”
    He wanted to take her and leave, and if it were anyone other than a child, he would have done so, whether she protested or not. But he could no more leave that child than she could. His only recourse was to protect her.
    “What can I do?”
    She smiled. “Thank you. I was hoping you would ask.”
    “You could have asked for my help.”
    “I did when I grasped hold of your hand.”
    Trey nodded. “I will remember that, now what can I do?”
    “I need you to remain near my side, and after I close my eyes and begin to work, if I grow at all agitated, you must grab hold of me and call me back.”
    “I’ll demand you come back,” he said empathically.
    “Will you now?” She smiled sweetly.
    “You’ll not escape me that easily, wife. ”
    She pressed her cheek to his, and whispered, “I hope not.”
    He grinned and gave her a quick kiss. He enjoyed the banter and play of falling in love. A give-and-take, a push and pull, a catch of the heart, and, damn, but wasn’t he glad to be sharing it with someone once again.
    They hurried back into the cottage, and Trey did as Bliss had instructed. He kept an eye on her as she sat beside Philip, holding his hand, though she had begun with her usual ritual of placing her cupped hands over her mouth, then rubbing them together before laying her hands on the person, in this case holding Philip’s hand.
    He had no intentions of leaving her side until this was done one way or the other. The problem, however, was that the information on the king’s troops could not wait indefinitely. If the lad’s healing was prolonged, Trey might have to make a choice, and there truly was no choice to make. He had given his word to help the true king, and he could not renege on it, not when it meant the lives of so many.
    He hoped it would not come to that, for it would be difficult to leave Bliss even though he knew she would urge him to go. She would understand that his duty to the true king came first and she would tell him not to worry. But he would worry all the same, leaving her on her own.
    He pushed the troubling thought from his mind. Until the time came, he would not waste thoughts on it. Bliss needed him now, and he would be here for her while he could.
    Supper was a silent affair that evening. It appeared no progress had been made with Philip, and so all were somber. Bliss looked exhausted, yawning much too often during the meal. So when all was done, Trey suggested they retire and get up early so that Bliss could resume her healing.
    No one objected, and Albert and Teresa retired into their son’s room, having fashioned a sleeping pallet on the floor so that they could remain near him. Trey and Bliss got to share Philip’s narrow bed, but that was all right with Trey. It meant they could sleep snuggled together.
    Bliss turned to rest in his arms when he joined her in bed, and her head went to rest on his chest. He could feel that something troubled her, and so he waited, his hands gently massaging her back.
    “I don’t know if I can save him,” she whispered.
    “It’s in fate’s hands,” he said, hoping it would help.
    She sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
    Trey comforted her throughout the night, her sleep fitful, and when she woke, she went immediately to Philip’s side. It continued like that for several days, and Trey began to worry about her, and his need to find out about the troops.
    It was settled for him when Albert returned from a neighboring farm the next day, having gone to return a tool he had borrowed for too long, and when he arrived home his face was pale as freshly fallen snow.
    He walked into the room and, with a flick of his hand, summoned Trey to follow. Trey was reluctant to leave Bliss, but Teresa had