After rising from her chair, Jessie crouched by Flora and gently shook her.

Flora's eyes popped open. "Aye. What is it, m'lady?"

"He has a terrible fever."

"Och, nay." She scrambled up from the floor and poured some hot water, heating in the fireplace, into a cup. "We'll give him some willow bark tea, then," she whispered, sprinkling some ground up pieces of bark into the water. "And a bit more poppy for the pain." While it steeped, the healer pressed her hand against Torrin's forehead. "He is indeed scorching."

Jessie's stomach knotted, for she knew not what this meant. Please God, heal him and help him recover, she prayed, tears in her eyes. More than anything, she wanted to have a family with him.

When the tea was ready, Flora said, "Mayhap you can help him lean over this way a bit so he doesn't choke on the tea?"

"Of course." Jessie went to the back side of the bed. "Torrin?"

"Hmm."

"I'm going to help you turn over that way so you can drink some tea, aye?" She pushed at his shoulder.

When he tried to move, he grimaced terribly and growled a curse.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said.

"Och, m'laird, I ken it hurts," Flora said gently, as if to a child. "But if you drink this, 'twill help."

Jessie pushed harder at his shoulder so he could roll toward his right. 'Twas obvious that he was helping, for she couldn't have moved him so easily if he hadn't.

Flora held the cup to his mouth.

"Drink now, Torrin," Jessie whispered softly in his ear.

He swallowed several mouthfuls, took a few breaths, then drank the rest of the cup.

"Good. That will help," Flora said in an encouraging tone.

Torrin lay back, grinding his teeth together and hissing. Once he'd relaxed, he took several deep breaths. She stroked his forearm, lying on top of the blanket. He lifted his hand and closed it securely around Jessie's wrist.

Flora smiled slightly when she saw this, then returned to arranging the herbal remedies. Jessie pulled the blanket to his chin again but didn't remove his hand from around her wrist. Nay, she rather liked his tight, possessive hold, even in the face of such illness. 'Haps she could help give him the strength to pull through.

A half hour later, Flora was once again snoring beside the hearth, and Torrin was sleeping peacefully. Jessie touched his face, his whisker stubble brushing her palm. He was still rather warm, but the fever was less severe than before.

The rough feel of his stubble sparked the memory of when he'd first kissed her in the chapel, and how he'd talked about his whiskers being prickly and growing back quickly despite his best efforts to keep them shaved off. Tears burning her eyes, she wished he could tease her now… kiss her, make her laugh… and a lot more.

When his grip on her wrist relaxed enough, she moved around the foot of the bed to the other side. Sitting in the chair, she took up the wet cloth again and stroked it over his face, then traced his attractive chestnut-colored brows with her fingertip. She always loved it when he raised one of them, giving her a mischievous look.

His eyes still closed, he grunted and gently took hold of her hand. "Jessie," he said, no louder than a breath.

"Aye."

"Love you," he said.

Tears filled Jessie's eyes. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard. Once she was able to speak, she whispered, "I love you, too."

One corner of his lips quirked upward in the barest hint of a smile, then disappeared.

Though she told the truth, she hoped he wouldn't remember it. Their feelings for each other were strong, but that wasn't the only factor. To a chief and his clan, the heir was of primary importance.

Holding her hand, Torrin lapsed into a deeper sleep.

Soon, dawn light gleamed silvery gray through the narrow window, and Jessie grew more and more sleepy. She would just lay her head down for a minute on the bed to rest her tight shoulders and neck.

The rattle of the door latch startled her awake and she sat upright. The room was lighter now and Iain stood on the threshold.

"How is he?" Iain whispered, then moved to stand at the foot of the bed.

Truth be told, she'd been asleep and wasn't certain. She ran her gaze over Torrin, then laid her palm against his forehead. Still a bit too warm, but not scalding. His breathing was deep and even.

"Very well, I think."

"Thank the saints," Iain said, keeping his deep voice low. "You've taken excellent care of him, m'lady."

"God and the healers deserve all the credit. I merely sat here."

"You did far more than that," Iain said with a slight smile.

She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to argue.

"Don't tell him I said so, but you, sitting here, holding his hand, will mean more to him than all the medicine in the world."

Her face burned, and she dropped her gaze to study Torrin. He moved a bit, a frown creasing his brow.

Torrin must have talked to Iain about his feelings for her. She wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or glad.

"I'll let you both rest," Iain whispered and slipped out the door.

Flora roused from her sleep by the hearth and pushed herself up. "How is the laird this morn?"

"Improving, I think. But mayhap you should check him over to be sure."

Moving to the other side of the bed, Flora placed a hand upon his forehead. "Aye. Still a mild fever, but I think he is doing well, all things considered."

"Thanks be to God," Jessie murmured.

"Aye, I think your prayers helped, m'lady." Flora went back to her herbal concoctions.

How did she know Jessie had prayed for Torrin? She had done so silently. Maybe the woman had simply assumed it, since 'twas obvious Jessie cared a great deal for Torrin.

Moments later, Nannag stole into the room, her footsteps so light, Jessie almost didn't hear them. Her white hair was contained beneath a red kertch, and her blue eyes were as bright as the morning sky.

"The lad is doing well, aye?" she asked in her papery thin whisper. "His color is better."

'Twas true. How had Jessie missed that? Last night, he had been so pale.

"Aye," Jessie said, feeling more hopeful.

Torrin shifted again with a low grunt.

"Mayhap you would like to get him some thin porridge while we check his wounds," Nannag suggested.

Jessie didn't see how a woman in her nineties could be so chipper and spry this early in the morn. She must have slept well.

Jessie stood and rubbed her low back; it ached from having sat in the same position so long.

"You need to eat something, too," Nannag told her. "'Twill take us about a half hour to re-bandage his wounds."

But would he miss her if she wasn't there when he woke up? Maybe she should go ahead and wake him now to tell him where she was going.

"Torrin?" She touched his forehead.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to get food. I'll be back soon."

He opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times, a frown contorting his brow, then studied her. "Aye."

"How do you feel this morn?"

"Like hell… if you wish the truth." His deep voice was raspy.

"You are improving though." Aye, his face wasn't as pale, and he was not growling lengthy curses as he had been the evening before. She wanted to kiss his forehead to reassure him, but couldn't with Nannag and Flora watching. They'd make something of it, when she wanted to keep the true nature of their association secret.