For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 by Jennifer Hudson Taylor Page B

askew all over his head and down to his shoulders. Even the captain wasn’t wearing his usual wig and proper attire.
    “Our whereabouts?” Deidra exclaimed once he was out of hearing. “Does he mean to say we are lost at sea?” She clutched her stomach
as fear etched across her face.
    “In a storm like the one last night, ’tis possible we have blown off course. We could be anywhere,” Logan said.

    Pain burned Malcolm’s head. He tried to escape it, but the fierce sting followed him to where there was no escape. He reached up to push it away.
    “He is waking up. Help me hold him down.”
    Lauren’s voice. Where was she? He tried to open his eyes, but his lids were too heavy.
    “L . . . Lauren?” His voice croaked. What was wrong with him? “Lauren?”
    “I am here, Malcolm.” Her voice came near. He reached for her, eager to touch her. Lauren’s hand found his, and he gripped her tightly. He couldn’t explain why, but her touch and her voice calmed him.
    Something twisted and burned the top side of his head. He reached up as he blinked. A string? What were they doing to him?
    “Nay!” Lauren grabbed his other hand. “Malcolm, I need to stitch yer wound. ’Twould have been better if ye had stayed unconscious a wee bit longer, but I canna tell ye how relieved I am to see ye awake.”
    “The storm . . .” Images pressed his mind of the ship rolling, thunder, lightning, and monstrous waves. “Did we make it, then?”
    “Aye.” Lauren squeezed his hand. “Now listen, I’m stitching yer head, but ye must be still. Promise me, Malcolm.”
    “Look into my eyes. I need to see ye, Lauren.” She leaned forward. Her worried blue eyes peered at him from a ring of purple circles. He swallowed, but his throat felt swollen and dry. Taking a deep breath to summon his strength, Malcolm reached up and cupped her cheek. “Ye look tired, lass. Is there no one else who could tend to me?”
    “I am here,” Deidra said, her lips twisted into a mischievous grin he didn’t trust. “I could take over yer stitches.”
    “Nay, there are so many others that need attention.” Lauren shook her head, her damp golden hair hung over her shoulders. “I shall finish what I started with Malcolm.”
    “But who will hold ’im down for ye?” Deidra asked. “Ye will need my ’elp.”
    “I have been stitched afore,” Malcolm said, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. “I daresay, Lauren will manage, an’ I shall do my best to stay still.”
    As the rest of him awakened, Malcolm grew more aware of the aching bruises and soreness throughout his body. Was there no spot on his person that hadn’t suffered a beating? He wouldn’t complain. He had no idea what Lauren might have endured while he was lying unconscious.
    “Are ye sure?” Deidra sounded hesitant.
    “Aye, Malcolm and I have weathered many unpleasant situations in the past.” Lauren tightened her grip upon him for emphasis. The action alerted him to the task at hand and helped him stop concentrating on the throbbing aches. He opened his eyes to see her gazing at him, her expression one of concern and uncertainty. She smiled, lighting his heart with a hope he had been afraid to allow before the storm. “We shall be fine.”
    Lauren pulled the needle through his skin. The sting of every prick and the thread sliding through his skin felt like a razor blade slicing him. He clenched his teeth, determined to keep his word about not flinching. Malcolm longed to be invincible in Lauren’s eyes while he struggled to mask his pain. How else could he prove that he was worth more than the Campbell Clan deemed him?
    He had always believed people of wealth couldn’t be true Christians. They had everything and no opportunity to test their faith time after time like the poor. Lauren had come along and shattered that idea. In watching her these last few weeks, he knew he had witnessed true faith. She had lived a life of comfort, and he had despised her