In the Arms of a Highland Warrior (Highland Myths Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Highland Myths Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
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Tavia dropped her head back on the pillows braced behind her back. She knew this day would come and while she thought she was prepared for it, the incident today proved she was not at all prepared to revisit it.

“You do not have to go into detail,” Bhric said and laid the first heated cloth on her leg, pressing his hand against it so her leg could soak up the heat.

Tavia sighed with the relief it brought her. “I climbed a tree.”

“I know that, but why did you climb the tree?”

Tavia closed her eyes as she said, “To save a bairn stuck there.”

CHAPTER 22

Bhric was pleased to see his wife walking with his sister Ingrid through the village, talking and laughing. His sister had made an effort to get to know Tavia in the last few days and he was glad and grateful. If she accepted Tavia, others in the tribe would be more likely to follow suit. Maybe then healing could start for all.

Since the incident with Uta, his wife’s leg had healed well though she remained cautious. And now that she had told him how she had gotten the limp, he found that what he had once thought of as weakness, he now thought of as a mark of great courage.

“She told you.”

Bhric kept his eyes on his wife as Greta stopped beside him. “She did.”

“It took courage to do what she did,” Greta said.

“Who and what courage?” Sven asked, joining Bhric and Greta.

“You should tell Sven,” Greta said. “All here should know of her bravery. They may think differently of her then.” She walked away, leaning on her staff as she went.

“Tavia told me what caused her limp,” Bhric said, recalling the strength it had taken for her to relive her ordeal as she had told him the story. Her words came back to him, and he felt her pain all over again.

“There was a young lad, Shep, six years, in the clan who loved climbing trees and he was a good climber. The problem was that he began to climb higher and higher in the tallest of trees. His da feared he would fall and injure himself badly or worse die. But Shep paid no heed to his da’s worries or commands not to climb too high. One day after a snowfall Shep climbed higher than he ever had. Unfortunately, his climb down did not go well. A branch broke and he fell and got stuck amongst the branches. Rescue became difficult since the men who tried to reach him, including his da, found the branches at a certain point not thick enough to hold their weight. Someone of light weight and height was needed to rescue him.

A cold fear had chilled Bhric when he heard his wife say, “I volunteered.”

“I had climbed trees when young, so I had no fear of doing so. I reached Shep without a problem only to discover his arm had been pierced by a branch in his fall. He was crying and frightened. I tore a piece of my shift off to bandage his wound, then after talking a bit with him we began our descent. The lad clung to me with every step we took, his small body trembling against me. All was going well when I stepped on a branch and heard a crack. I had not considered that the men who had tried to rescue Shep had caused some of the branches to splinter and even a light weight would be enough for the damaged branch to completely break away.

“His small arms hurried around my neck as I wrapped my arms firmly around him and just in time. The branch gave way, and we went tumbling down through endless tree branches. I had wrapped my legs around Shep to protect him and so a branch would not catch him and pull him out of my arms. A splintered branch caught my leg, slicing through it and hooking on, suspending me and Shep upside down near the bottom of the tree. The men were able to easily get Shep from my arms. I on the other hand was not so easy to free. The flesh had been torn wide, the bone exposed, and the splintered branch sticking off a larger branch was embedded like a hook in my leg. The only way they could get me down was to take the branch down with me. Thank God I passed out and I would have preferred to remain so until the healer finished tending my leg. The healer thought the same as Greta did about Lath, either way, cut it off or stitch it, I would not survive. My da demanded she stitch it as best she could, and she did. No one knows how I survived the ordeal or the pain that I never thought would end, but I did, and my limp is a reminder of it.”



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