Dorrie was near to collapsing when they reached the cottage. Dawn didn’t even think of returning through the window. She marched Dorrie right to the front door.
The warrior rushed to her, his mouth dropped open in shock that she was standing there and was not in the cottage. And when he caught sight of Dorrie…
“She belongs in the stock until Cree orders otherwise.” He reached out to grab Dorrie from her.
Dawn swerved to avoid him while her other hand shot out and gave him a shove he hadn’t expected. He went down hard giving her enough time to get Dorrie inside the cottage and latch the door.
“He will punish you for helping me.” Dorrie barely got the words out she was so weak.
Dawn didn’t bother to respond. She would face that problem when the time came. Now she needed to help Dorrie. She set the pitcher of cider near the hearth to heat while she hurried to the other room and snatched a fine wool skirt, wool stockings and linen blouse from the trunk.
“So much food,” Dorrie said. “Surely I am dreaming or,” —tears ran down her eyes— “I have died and gone to heaven.”
Dawn took a piece of meat and handed it to Dorrie.
Dorrie looked skeptical and glanced around, as if expecting someone to appear and punish her for even thinking of taking the meat.
Dawn shoved the meat into her hand and retrieved the pitcher of cider from the hearth and filled a tankard.
Once Dorrie took a bite of the delicious meat she couldn’t stop, she reached for more and she followed it with several gulps of cider. Her shivers grew worse as she continued to eat. Dawn hurried to collect the rain water and set it to heat by the hearth. The she prodded Dorrie and yanked at her wet garments. When she finally got Dorrie’s full attention she held up the dry clothes and pointed to her wet ones.
“For me?” Dorrie asked incredulously.
Dawn nodded.
Tears rimmed Dorrie’s eyes. “Why? I have treated you so badly and yet you help me.”
Dawn patted her chest, shook her head and pointed at her.
Dorrie scrunched her brow and then as if understanding dawned on her she said, “It doesn’t matter what I’ve done,” —tears trickled down her cheeks— “you cannot see me suffer.”
Dawn nodded.
“I’m sorry, so very sorry,” Dorrie cried, her body shivering.
Dawn shook her head and urged her to drink more cider. Then she brought the bucket of heated rain water to rest beside Dorrie’s chair and once she put the tankard down, Dawn tugged at her blouse.
“I am soaked to the bone,” Dorrie said hurrying to strip off her clothes.
Dawn and Dorrie worked together washing the mud off Dorrie while the woman cried. Dawn wasn’t sure what to do. So when they finally finished and Dorrie was dressed in clean garments, Dawn ran and got a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Dorrie hugging her, hoping to stop her shivers.
Dawn was shocked when Dorrie slipped her arms out of the blanket and hugged her tightly.
“I will not forget what you have done for me.”
Dawn smiled and handed her another piece of meat. Dorrie took it, smiled, and reached for a piece of meat handing it to Dawn.
~~~
Cree was ready to kill someone. “How did the culprit manage to elude my best tracker and warriors?”
Sloan rubbed his chin. “I don’t know.”
Cree glared at him. “Not an acceptable answer.”
“I agree, but it is the only answer that I presently have for you, my lord. The rainstorm has hampered attempts to continue tracking. We will try again in the morning whether it continues to rain or not. But I do not hold any hope.”
“You feel he has gotten away?”
Sloan nodded. “I do, though I wonder if he waits for another chance to get Dawn, not wanting to return to Colum having failed his mission.”
“Dawn will have a guard with her at all times. She is to go nowhere without one.” Cree poured himself another tankard of ale. “And make certain that the men are aware that she cannot scream out to them for help. They must keep an eye on her at all times.”
“I cannot imagine the terror she must have felt when she was attacked and could not scream out for help.”
Cree gripped his tankard so hard that his knuckles turned white and his expression murderous. That very thought had haunted him from when he had first laid eyes on Dawn’s bruises. She could not scream out in rage or fear, though no doubt she had wanted to. Her voice was forever trapped inside her, leaving her much too vulnerable.
He did not like the thought of her being vulnerable to anyone but him. Perhaps a few lessons in how to defend herself would prove helpful.
“I must say I admire her bravery. She did not surrender or give into the thug. She fought, even though he pummeled her face. And what amazes me even more is that she sought no help afterwards. She saw to her own wounds.” Sloan shook his head, as if he didn’t believe it.