Larkin sat beside her, watching as Moira and Glenna took turns tending her. Watching as one of them came in to light candles, or add turf to the fire. Or just lay a hand over Blair’s brow to check for fever.
Every two hours by the clock, one of them would wake her, ask questions of her. Because of the concussion, Glenna had said. It was a precaution because she’d suffered such hard blows to her head.
Then he would think what might have happened if one of those blows had knocked her unconscious, what they would have done to her while she was alone.
Every time he thought of it, imagined it, he’d take her hand to feel her pulse beat under the scar on her wrist.
He passed the time talking nonsense to her, and for a time playing the pipe that Moira had brought to him. He thought—he hoped—she rested easier with the music.
“You should go, rest now for an hour or two.” Moira stroked a hand down her hair as she spoke. “I’ll sit with her.”
“I can’t.”
“No. Nor could I in your place. She’s so strong, Larkin, and Glenna so skilled. I wish you wouldn’t worry so.”
“I didn’t know it was inside me. That I could feel so much for one person. That I could know, without question, without a single doubt, that this woman is…well, everything there is for me.”
“I knew it. Not that it would be her, but that there would be someone. And that when you found her, she’d change everything.” Moira bent to press her lips to the top of his head. “I’m a little jealous. Do you mind?”
“No.” He turned her head, pressed his face to her side. “I’ll love you all my life. I think I could be a thousand miles from you, and still reach out my hand and touch yours.”
Tears stung Moira’s eyes. “I couldn’t have chosen better for you if I’d chosen her myself. Still, she’s the luckiest of women.”
“She’s waking.”
“All right, talk to her now. We’ll keep her with us a few moments, then I’ll give her more medicine.”
“There you are.” Larkin spoke quietly, standing to take her hand. “Mo chroi. Open your eyes.”
“What?” They fluttered open. “What is it?”
“Give me your name now.”
“Scarlett O’Hara. Can’t you remember it for five minutes?” she said testily. “Blair Murphy. I don’t have brain damage. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
“She’s lucid enough,” Moira decided, and poured more of Glenna’s potion into a cup.
“I don’t want any more of that.” Hearing the petulance in her own voice, Blair closed her eyes a moment. “Look, I don’t mean to be pissy. Or, okay, maybe I do. So what? But that gunk makes me feel foggy and out of it. Which wouldn’t be so bad if someone wasn’t waking me up every freaking ten minutes to ask me my name.”
Not at all displeased with the rant, Moira set the cup aside. “Glenna said I should wake her if Blair refused.”
“Oh jeez, don’t go get Nurse Rachett.”
“I’ll be a moment.”
Larkin eased down on the side of the bed as Moira slipped out of the room. “Your color’s come back, you know. It’s a relief to me.”
“I bet I’m all kinds of colors right now. Blue, black, purple, that sick-looking yellow. Good thing it’s dark in here. Look, you don’t have to hang around.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I appreciate it. But…listen, can we talk about something other than me and my severely kicked ass? Tell me something. Tell me…when’s the first time you knew you could shape-shift?”
“Oh, I’d have been about three. I wanted a puppy, you see. My father had his wolfhounds, but they were too dignified to play with the likes of me, to chase balls around and fetch sticks.”
“A puppy.” She relaxed with the sound of his voice. “What kind of puppy.”
“Oh, any sort would do, but my mother said she wasn’t after having another dog in the house, and that she already had me and the baby to deal with. That would be my brother, who would have been barely more than a year old. And I was unaware at the time she was already carrying my sister as well.”