“She always does.” He shook his head. “First, I have to settle this Sterling problem, then I’ll talk with my wife.”

“You shouldn’t wait too long,” his grandmother cautioned.

His grandmother’s warning kept whispering in his head as he and Willow left the keep to go see how Walcott was doing. It meant a lot to him that his grandmother trusted Willow enough for her to suggest he talk with his wife. She had always been a good judge of people, perhaps that had been why his mum hadn’t wanted her own mum to know about Slatter’s father. Seanmhair would have told her if she thought the man no good. And love can blind. Though, he was learning that love could also see past the nonsense and to the truth. Or was it his wife’s pragmatic nature that could do that?

Slatter stood aside while his wife looked over Walcott and watching her expressions made him think Walcott was not doing well. That didn’t stop his wife from fighting for him. Another healer would probably think him past helping and let him die, not Willow. She was tenacious, even in the way she had treated his simple wound when a prisoner.

It was as if she fought a foe, an enemy out to defeat her. And she fought as hard if not harder than most warriors.

Once she finished seeing to Walcott and making sure he was settled comfortably, she turned and walked over to Slatter.

“We wait. There is nothing more I can do.” She turned her head and looked at Walcott as she spoke. “My mum reminded me time and again that it’s often the wound or damage done that you can’t see that’s the culprit. The wounds look to heal well, but I don’t know what goes on inside him and that’s what worries me as does his constant sleep.”

“We can only hope that death wants nothing to do with his cantankerous nature.”

Willow couldn’t help but smile.

The door opened and Carna stopped abruptly seeing Willow and Slatter. “Sara sent me to sit with Walcott. She told me that Walcott needed my tending more than she did.”

“How does my grandmother know about Walcott?” Slatter asked.

“Word spreads fast through the village and keep. Besides, talking with Sara can be,” —she narrowed her eyes searching for a word to explain— “comforting, and you simply discuss everything with her.”

Slatter understood perfectly.

“You did well with Sara and I would appreciate your help with Walcott,” Willow said. “Let me explain what needs to be done and what you need to watch for.”

Slatter stepped outside the cottage while the two women talked. It was another cold day, the sky gray, but there was no hint of snow in the air. He was glad for the cold that nipped at his face, it helped clear his head some. Once it did, it forced him to think on what he feared most about the present situation.