Julie Garwood - The Bride

"I won't build you a box, love," Alec whispered.

She smiled again. "I'm so happy to see you."

His hands shook. "I'm happy to see you, too," he told her in a gruff voice.

"I lost my dagger."

She looked as though she was having as much difficulty as he was believing that statement. She frowned up at him while he gently brushed her hair away from her face, trying to remember the other question she wanted to ask him.

She gave up after a minute. "Alec, the dagger-"

"Don't worry about your dagger, love," Alec soothed. "Can you move your legs, Jamie? I want to take you into my arms and lift you up to my men. Sweetheart, let go of Gavin now. Let me-"

"Gavin?"

"Yes, love, Gavin," he explained.

Jamie looked down when Alec started prying her hands away from Gavin's chest.

She remembered everything then. "He was hit by a rock," she said. "The blow knocked him backwards, Alec. He was going to fall over the steep edge. I got behind him," she rushed on. "He was so heavy. I couldn't keep him from falling, so I put my arms around his waist and pushed us both down toward the slope."

She smiled at her husband, ignoring his worried grimace. "I couldn't remember which direction, but I guessed the right way, didn't I?"

"You did," he told her in a hoarse whisper.

"You have to take him up first," she ordered. Her voice was surprisingly clear now; she was so blissfully relieved to have Alec taking charge she wanted to weep.

Alec decided not to argue with her. He eased Gavin up, over his shoulders in much the same way a woman would wear a shawl, and then stood up. His legs were braced apart for balance as he slowly lifted the sleeping soldier high above his head.

"We've got his hands," Marcus shouted down.

Alec moved Gavin's legs away from the rock once the weight was taken away. He knelt down beside Jamie again. His eyes looked suspiciously misty to her. She realized then that she must have caused him considerable worry. "I'm going to be fine, Alec. I told you I wouldn't leave you."

He couldn't believe she was trying to comfort him. "No, you're not going to leave me," he muttered affectionately. "I can see the blood on your face is all bluster," he added, remembering those words from her remarks about Angus's chest wound.

"My dagger's in my shoulder," she blurted out.

He didn't show any reaction to that statement. Jamie immediately decided the injury wasn't as horrible as she imagined. Still, she needed to have him tell her so before she quit her worrying. "Is it awful, Alec?"

"No," he answered. "It isn't in your shoulder, either, Jamie."

"I can feel it," she argued. She tried to turn her head to look for herself, but Alec grabbed hold of her chin. "It's in your upper arm," he explained. "You're most fortunate. It went through the fat."

"I don't have any fat," Jamie argued. She watched him tear a strip from his plaid, yet still didn't guess what his intent was. "Clear through, Alec? Oh, God, it's going to hurt something fierce when it's-"

She never finished her sentence. Alec had the dagger out of her flesh as quick as lightning and was wrapping the strip of cloth around her arm before she could get enough strength back to scream.

"There! That didn't hurt, did it?" he asked.

"It did!"

"Hush, love," he soothed. "You would have worried about the dagger coming out until you'd made yourself sick."

He was right and they both knew it. "If you had to get yourself stabbed, I imagine you picked the best spot. The dagger didn't hit bone."

She let out a gasp. "I knew you'd think this was all my fault," she told him.

Her mind concentrated on his contrary remark and she barely noticed Alec had lifted her into his arms and was slowly standing up. "I didn't get myself stabbed and you damn well know it."

"I know, love, but it's good of you to remind me," he told her. He was lifting her above his head now. Jamie started to look down. He felt her tense in his grasp. He thought to warn her not to look down, then decided against it. His caution would only remind her of her precarious position. "At least you found your dagger," he announced, sounding outrageously cheerful.

"There is that," she snapped. "Alec, you're hurting me," she cried out when his hand accidentally brushed against her arm. She closed her eyes against the excruciating pain.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to hurt you, lass."

The agony in his voice tugged at her heart. "It didn't hurt overly much," she said quickly. She felt someone lifting her away from Alec and opened her eyes again. Marcus had her in his arms an instant or two later, and then Alec was over the rise again and she was gently given back to him.

It barely bothered her injuries at all when Alec gained his stallion. He kept her well cushioned in his arms. His strength was such a comfort to her. She sighed against his shoulder.

"Why haven't you asked me if I saw the attacker?" she asked him.

"I know who it was," he answered.

"I think I know, too," Jamie whispered. "But you'll have to give me the name first."

She knew that didn't make any sense, and Alec's grim expression suggested he'd rather not discuss the topic now. She ignored the suggestion, of course, and asked, "Who was the witness?"

"What witness?" he asked. His concentration centered on keeping his stallion at an easy gait, and he barely took the time to look down at his wife's face.

"The witness to Helena's death," she whispered.

"Annie."

Two hours later, Jamie was propped up in her bed in the great hall. Alec had kicked the screen to the floor in his hurry to get her settled. The screen had been carried outside and the hall was now crowded with her clan.

Alec tended to her injuries. She'd given him instructions about the proper powders to use, and made him refashion the bandage on her arm twice before she was satisfied. Gavin was awake, too. He had a fierce headache. Jamie wouldn't let anyone give him any ale, though. She ordered cold cloths on his head and water to drink. He'd have to suffer through his headache, she dictated from her bed, and that was that.

Jamie never made a sound or showed a grimace while she was being patched up. In truth, vanity was her real motive, not courage. She wasn't about to act cowardly in front of her relatives.

Father Murdock had made that task easy for her. The dear priest sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand all during Alec's work. Little Mary Kathleen was carried in and settled next to her mother when Alec was finished. The three-year-old started crying when she saw the bandage on Jamie's forehead. Alec soothed the child by telling her to give her mother a kiss.

Mary immediately did as Alec suggested and was rewarded by her mama's surprised announcement that she was feeling ever so much better now. The little girl fell asleep a few minutes later, cuddled up against Jamie's side.

Jamie saw Marcus motion to Alec. "You've found her, then?" she called out.

No one answered her. Alec started toward the door. "Alec, bring Annie inside," she said. "I want to ask her why."

Alec shook his head. "I'll listen to what she has to say outside."

"And then?"

"I'll decide."

Father Murdock squeezed Jamie's hand when she started to call out to her husband again. "Leave it in his hands, lass. He's a compassionate man."

Jamie nodded. "He doesn't like admitting it, but he is compassionate. Annie's mind is twisted," she whispered. "Alec will remember that."

And then the sound of that horrid, inhuman laughter filled the hall and she found herself clutching the priest's hand for comfort. Annie's words lashed out with the sting of a whip. The venom she screeched was made worse by her singsong tone of voice. "I'll be your wife, I will. No matter how long it takes me, Kincaid. It's my right. My right. Helena took you away from me. I challenged you then, Alec, and I'll challenge you again."