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young lass out of her bloodied tunic and plaid. Efficiently cutting away the soiled clothing, Rhona peeled off layers of clothing and tossed them into a pile.
    “Ye sure y e want to be here for this Broderick? The lass won’t be happy when she heals and finds t hat you saw her naked as a babe . ” Q uickly looking up she questioned her him one last time.
    Dr opping the pile beside his dogs and Elisabeth, he knelt down beside Old Rhona and nodded, “Aye, I owe her my life. I’ve made an oath; she’s under my protection. I’ll deal with the lass when that time comes , if she makes it . ”
    Rhona didn’t question her him any further; above all else his word was the final say. She knew the lass before her would change her laird’s world; she wasn’t lying when she mentioned the lass had a touch of destiny about her. What she failed to tell Broderick is the lass and his destinies were intertwined. Old and wise enough to keep that to herself, she gave Broderick orders while she pulled the last of the injured lass’s clothes off, revealing a gnarly wound that stretched from her upper left shoulder down across her chest underneath her opposite breast. Sucking in her br eath as she inspected the wound. It was far worse than she imagined, sending up a silent prayer for the young woman before her, she knew her recovery would be long and painful.
    When Broderick saw the wound his heart sank, it would indeed be a miracle if the lass pulled through, the wound was as long as his arm, deep and severe. Sitting back on his heels he watched in a daze as Rhona worked. How had Elisabeth survived thus far? Her soft lips were purple and her skin looked slightly blue; she had nearly frozen to death and surely lost the majority of her lifeblood . The wound across her chest looked as if she was almost cleaved in two . His dogs were not happy about being forced to move while they worked on the young woman. Conn and Isla hadn’t moved far, only allowing enough room for their master and Rhona to work; they kept watch of the unconscious lady with watchful eyes. He was still amazed at the loyalty his dogs showed the stranger.
    After stripping the young woman of her clothing, Rhona cleaned the lass’s body with the steaming water before the healer arrived. Working methodically, she took great care when cleaning the injured lass. It took them a very long time to clean the wound and check the l ass for any additional injuries. Finding only her shoulder injury, they made he r as comfo rtable as they could as they covering her with warm wool blankets, and several of Broderick’s tartans.
    While waiting for the healer, Rhona had already disappeared out the door with the bloody clothing and Elisabeth’s tarta n. He made Rhona swear to see the tartan cleaned and returned; it was not to be burnt. He knew the proud Drumm ond woman would want her plaid; it was all she had left of her family and clan. A warrior’s plaid was one of their most priceless objects, and he would see hers cleaned and returned to her.
    Cleaned and covered with his tartan plaid, he watched her sleep and wondered what color her eyes were , he couldn’t remember . Although he tried not to stare at her naked body earlier , he had little choice when he helped Rhona clean off the blood. Her body was lithe and petite; she was well shaped with ample b reasts. She had beautiful muscle definition for a woman; she was obviously strong, even with her petite frame. Seeing several old scars on her body, he assumed the stories were tru e; she was indeed the Drummond Warrior Q ueen fabled amongst the Highlands. He pondered how old she was, years ago she was still so very young when she broke up the fight, now she had to be in her twenties, she had the body of a goddess.
    Sitting with his chair pulled close to Elisabeth, he ran his hand over Conn’s head as they watched the sleeping lass together . Isla was snuggled beside her and the fire. Reflecting back on what his brother had said