But Keeley’s eyes were riveted to the warrior slumped over in the saddle and to the blood that dripped steadily onto the ground.

Before she could react, the man fell off the horse with a heavy thump. Keeley winced. Jesu, but that had to hurt.

The horse danced to the side, leaving the sprawled warrior at Keeley’s feet. Keeley dropped down, pulling at his tunic as she sought the source of all the blood. There was a huge rend in the material at his side and when she pushed aside the tatters, she gasped.

There was a cut that ran from his hip to just underneath his arm. The flesh was flayed open and the wound was at least an inch deep. Thankfully it wasn’t deeper, for surely it would have been a mortal blow.

It would certainly need needle and thread and a lot of praying that he didn’t succumb to a fever.

She ran her hands anxiously over his taught abdomen. He was a strong warrior, lean and well muscled. There were other scars, one on his belly and one on his shoulder. They were older and didn’t look to have been as severe as his current injury.

How was she to get him into her cottage? She glanced back at her doorway with her bottom lip stuck solidly between her teeth. He was enormous and no match for a lass her size. It would require cunning to solve this dilemma.

She rose and hurried into her cottage. She stripped the linens from her bed and wadded them into her hand. She ran back outside letting the material unfurl in the wind.

It took her a moment to position the sheet just so, and she had to place rocks on the end to keep it from billowing up in the wind. When she was done, she went around to the other side of the warrior and pushed at him to roll him onto the sheet.

It was like pushing a boulder.

She grit her teeth and put more muscle into the effort. He bobbed a bit but remained in his position.

“Wake up and help me!” she demanded in frustration. “I can’t leave you out here in the cold. ’Tis likely to snow today and you’re still bleeding. Have you no care for your life?”

She poked him for emphasis and when he didn’t stir, she smacked his cheek with the flat of her palm.

He stirred and frowned. A growl escaped his lips that nearly sent her back into the safety of her cottage.

Then she scowled and bent closer so he could hear. “You’re a stubborn one, aye, but you’ll find I’m even more so. You won’t be winning this battle, warrior. ’Tis better if you surrender now and help me in my endeavor.”

“Leave off,” he snarled, his eyes never opening. “I’ll not aid you in taking me to hell.”