They both rose and stood aside as three of Torrin's men moved in and hoisted him up onto their shoulders, then carried him toward the dunes leading to the castle. Iain followed them.

"Are you well, sister?" Dirk asked, limping toward her.

"Aye, are you hurt?" She glanced down at his leg, seeing no fresh injury below the bottom of his plaid.

"'Tis my calf, still healing from where Gil shot me with an arrow several weeks ago." Dirk shook his head. "When I saw you hanging off that cliff—" Fear sharpened his gaze. "I remember what 'tis like."

She nodded. But, thirteen years ago, Dirk had hung off the side of a cliff all night. She couldn't imagine the prolonged terror he must have felt. "Aye, I'm well. Thanks to McMurdo." Who would've ever imagined the murderer saving anyone's life? "But we must get MacLeod back to the keep and the healer," she said, still feeling jittery and weak from having almost fallen to her death.

"Indeed," her older brother said. "Let's go," he called out to the MacKays.

Torrin's men carried him quickly, ahead of everyone else.

Please, God, keep him alive.

Dirk walked over and stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down toward the rocks and the sea where their youngest brother had met his death. A flash of grief cut through her, for no matter Haldane's crimes—and even though he would've killed her with no qualms—he had once been her wee brother. She knew Dirk felt the loss of one of their own, too.

She rushed to catch up to Torrin's men, transporting him through the sand dunes. The rest of the MacKays and Dirk's friends followed.

A quarter hour later, they entered Dunnakeil. The men carried Torrin to his chamber, while Jessie dashed to Erskine's room to get Nannag, but she wasn't there.

"Where is Nannag?" Jessie asked Flora, one of the healers-in-training who watched over the sleeping sword-bearer.

"In Lady Isobel's chamber."

Fear flashed through Jessie. "Why? Is she hurt?"

"She fainted while she was watching the battle and hit her head. She feared Chief Dirk had been hurt or killed."

"Saints." Jessie ran toward the laird's chamber, praying Isobel was not injured too badly. In the corridor, she found Nannag and her two helpers.

"Please go to Laird MacLeod's chamber. He is severely injured and has lost a lot of blood."

"Aye, m'lady," the ancient healer said. Carrying her medicine satchel filled with herbs and no telling what else, she and her two younger helpers quickened their pace.

While Jessie wanted to go with them immediately, she also needed to check on Isobel.

Upon bypassing the guard and entering the room, she found Isobel sitting before the hearth, Seona beside her.

"Were you injured badly?" Jessie asked.

"Where is Dirk?" Isobel demanded, leaping to her feet and rushing forward, her eyes red.

"He was right behind me. He is well."

"Oh, thank the saints," Isobel whispered, pressing a hand to her chest and looking much relieved. "I saw him fall. After the guard brought me to my chamber, he wouldn't allow me to leave."

"And Keegan?" Seona asked, standing beside Isobel.

"Thankfully, he was unhurt, too. But Torrin was badly injured. He's out cold and has lost a lot of blood."

"Och, nay! I am sorry," Isobel said. "And here I have held you up."

"I wanted to see that you were well. I'll be in Torrin's room," Jessie said, dashing out the door.

When Jessie entered the crowded room, Torrin growled, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched in pain. Thank the saints he had awakened.

"Everyone out," Nannag ordered Torrin's men, and Iain. How could such a strong and commanding voice come from such an aged and tiny woman? The men obediently filed out, but when Nannag found Jessie still standing by the door, she said in a gentler tone, "You too, m'lady."

"I will help."

"You can help by going to fetch Flora for me. And tell her to bring some hot water." She smiled sweetly, then rushed back to Torrin's bedside. "Cut his doublet and shirt off," she murmured to one of her helpers.

What if Torrin died while Jessie was out of the room? Nay, he cannot die!

Praying the whole way, Jessie did as Nannag asked and retrieved Flora.

Back at Torrin's chamber a short time later, Jessie waited outside the door with Iain and Struan, though she felt uncomfortable doing so. She did not know the men well, and they sent her inquiring glances. Did they know how close she and Torrin had grown? What had he told them?

A pain-filled growl echoed from beyond the door and Jessie wanted to rush inside. Instead, she paced and clasped her hands together. A needle-like pain shot through them and she examined her palms. They were scraped raw from where she'd held onto the rocks. She would have to rub some salve on them. Her shoulders were also sore from being near wrenched from their sockets.

"Torrin is tough as a cliff-face," Iain said, his voice rough. "I'm certain he will be up and around in no time." Although, with that worried frown, Iain didn't look convinced.

Jessie nodded. "I hope you're right."

A string of loud male curses issued forth from the room. Saints! He had to be in horrible pain. She wished she could do something to help ease it.

During the ensuing half hour, Dirk and Isobel, and several others stopped by to see how Torrin was faring, and then left. All she knew was that he was in agony, given the noises emanating from inside the room. Soon, all grew quiet.

Too quiet.

Fear flashed through Jessie. She knocked at the door, then barged in.

"How is he?" she demanded, rushing to the bedside.

"Shh. He is sleeping," Nannag whispered. "You'll wake him."

'Twas true. His bare chest rose and fell evenly with his deep breaths. But she couldn't see his wounds for Flora held a linen bandage pressed firmly against them. "Did he pass out again?"

"Nay. 'Twas my sleeping potion, lass." Nannag gave a reassuring smile. "He but needs to rest for a few hours. Come back later. I'll watch over him closely."

"I don't mind staying and helping." In fact, she wanted to. She would enjoy watching him sleep and breathe, for it meant he was alive.

Nannag shook her head. "Go get yourself something to eat… and some wine. You need it."

Releasing a calming breath, Jessie glanced back at the open doorway, where Iain and Struan stood, staring into the room with much concern. She supposed everyone could see how distraught she was… which meant, everyone knew how much she cared for Torrin.

Jessie nodded. "I thank you."

"You're welcome. Flora and I will take good care of the lad for you," Nannag whispered so the men wouldn't hear, then winked.

"He will be well?" Jessie asked hesitantly, keeping her voice low.

"Oh, aye. He lost some blood, but he is a strong, young warrior. We stitched him up good, and the bleeding is slowing. He'll be like new soon." Nannag gave her a knowing smile.

Jessie's face heated. "Very well. I'll be back soon."

When she stepped into the corridor, Iain asked, "How is he?"

"Sleeping. Go in if you wish, but Nannag will likely run you off after a minute."

With a faint smile, he nodded and stepped into the room. A couple of Torrin's men followed him.

She found Aiden lurking further along the darkened corridor. "How is Torrin?" he asked.