Fraser 03 - Highland Homecoming Read Online Free Page B

please?”
    “Do you think it wise?”
    “Aye. My mouth is so dry.”
    When Alasdair returned with the cup, she limited herself to a few small sips. “Thank you.” She lay back on the mattress and dragged her hand over her eyes.
    “The blow tae your head must have been worse than I thought. Mayhap we will have tae stay here a day or so, until you are well enough tae sit a horse.”
    She picked up a hint of disappointment in his voice, but she didn’t have the strength to argue or answer. Her eyes closed and darkness engulfed her.

Chapter 3
    She struggled to open heavy lidded eyes, but quickly raised her forearm to shade her vision from the rays of blinding sunlight streaming through the window.
    “Where am I?”
    The sounds of someone whistling outside the croft and the rhythmic crack of wood being chopped answered her question. Her stomach clenched and panic squeezed her chest. She was in the cottage of a stranger and he could return at any minute.
    He’d introduced himself as Alasdair Fraser, but the name meant nothing to her. Then again, she didn’t remember her own name. The last thing she recalled was leaning over a bucket, retching, certain her head was about to burst. As the events of her brief encounter with the man who’d claimed to find her on the beach slowly returned, a myriad of questions worried her mind. How long had she slept? Why had he brought her here, and what did he plan to do with her?
    A dull ache resonated in her skull, but mercifully the nausea and dizziness she’d experienced earlier had eased, at least for now. She shifted her position, lifted the covers, and gasped. She was still naked.
    She squeezed her eyes shut and heat rose in her cheeks. While he’d claimed the removal of her garments had been necessary to save her life, this man had seen her as only a husband should view a maiden on their wedding night. Was she a maiden? Or was she already married, mayhap even a mother?
    She shoved those concerns to the back of her mind. There were more pressing issues to deal with now. She scanned her surroundings in search of her clothes and a modicum of relief washed over her when she spied a nightrail on a chair near the hearth. It wasn’t much, but it was far better than no clothing at all. Once covered, she could search for her gown and slippers. Now all she had to do was retrieve the garment before he returned.
    Without hesitation, she slid to the edge of the pallet and dropped her feet over the side, an impulsive act that caused the room to spin. She inhaled deeply, then let the air leave her lungs in a slow, controlled breath. She repeated the action and waited for her head to clear.
    Determined to obtain her clothes, she pushed aside her fear, wrapped a plaid around herself, planted her hands on the mattress, and rose to a wobbly stance. But as she tried to take her first step, a sharp pain knifed through her right ankle, and she crumpled to the floor.
    The door swung open, striking the wall with a loud thud. “What in the name of St. Stephen are you doing?” The man had to duck beneath the doorframe to keep from bumping his head. He lumbered into the croft, across the room, then stopped at the foot of the pallet.
    “I want my clothes, sir.” The words spilled out before she could curb her tongue. Her heart rose in her throat, uncertain how he would react to her boldness.
    “My name is Alasdair and all you had tae do was ask. I’d have gotten them for you,” he replied, then crossed his arms over his broad chest and peered at her through narrowed eyes.
    She shuddered at the sight of him towering over her, but managed to keep her composure. “There was no need tae bother you. I am capable of fending for myself.” She bit down hard on her lower lip, having again spoken her mind without thought for the consequences. He did not look impressed.
    “If that’s so, how did you end up on the floor?”
    “I tried to walk, but my ankle gave way.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she