Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection by Donna Fletcher Page A

magic to survive.”
    “Thora is your wife?”
    Tyr shook his head. “My sister. Her husband
was recently killed in battle and she has not been well since. Our
healer worried that she would not be able to help Thora when her
time came to deliver the babe. She urged me to bring her to the
Sinclare healer, known for her powerful magic.”
    “You came for help from the healer, yet took
my wife?”
    “I thought her the healer when I came upon
her searching for plants. I foolishly did not take the time to ask
who she was. I was much too worried about having left my sister
alone and in pain. I wanted nothing more than to find someone to
help her.” Tyr shook his head. “I will do anything to see my sister
and her babe well. I meant your wife no harm.”
    “The bruise?”
    “It is as she says. She suffered it upon
herself while aiming at me.” Tyr grinned. “She has a mighty
punch.”
    Cavan smiled with pride. “That she does.”
    A scream interrupted their talk and Cavan
could see how Tyr suffered in agony along with his sister. That the
woman lost the man she loved, and could possibly lose his babe,
tore at Cavan’s heart. He could not imagine the awful pain.
    “We need to get your sister to my home,” he
said.
    “I will forever be in your debt for this,”
Tyr said and held out his hand.
    Cavan hesitated. “You still have to answer
for abducting my wife from my land.”
    “I am at your mercy,” Tyr said.
    Cavan took the warrior’s hand and they shook,
Cavan respecting him even more.
    “I worry about my sister traveling in such
pain,” Tyr said.
    “I don’t think it can be helped,” Cavan said.
“The snow no doubt will worsen. We need to make it home before it
does.”
    Honora saw that Thora was bundled in blankets
and lifted carefully to her brother’s waiting arms after he mounted
his horse.
    “You will be at my home soon,” Honora
promised Thora and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before
walking away to join her husband.
    Cavan placed his hands on his wife’s waist
and helped her mount his horse. He climbed up behind her and with a
wave of his hand they headed home.
    He yanked her back against him and rested his
cheek to hers. “I feared the worst.”
    “As did I,” she confessed. “But when I
entered the shelter and saw his sister in such agony all my fear
vanished. I realized then that Tyr was a good man, though not much
with words. If he had told me about his sister I could have gotten
help, but—”
    “He is a legendary warrior. No doubt he
feared that no one would believe him and then what would have
happened to his sister. He did what he thought was best. I would
have done the same.”
    “You respect him,” Honora said.
    “I do, but that does not mean he will not pay
for abducting you.”
    Honora thought differently, but she would
bide her time and speak her piece when the time was right.
    By the time they reached the keep Thora was
in more agony than ever. Addie took charge, sending Alyce to fetch
Zia and Carissa to gather extra linens and Honora to lead the way
to the chieftain’s bedchambers.
    Cavan did not object, and Tyr sent him a nod
of gratitude.
    Tyr tried to remain in the room along with
Cavan but Addie wouldn’t have it. She chased both men out and
ordered Hagen who stood outside the door to keep them out. He gave
a nod and Addie smiled and kissed his cheek.
    Cavan took Tyr to the great hall where Ronan,
Artair and Lachlan sat at the table in front of the hearth. The
hall was filled with the scent of pine and delicious aromas that
reminded Cavan he had barely eaten today.
    Food soon filled the table and Cavan and his
brothers feasted, while Tyr barely touched the bountiful
display.
    “Why did you wait so long to seek help?”
Artair asked of Tyr.
    “My sister was not due to deliver her babe
for another month.”
    Artair nearly choked on his food. “Did you
tell my wife of this?”
    “Thora told Honora and no doubt she will
inform your wife.” Tyr turned to Cavan.