The dark woods enveloped them as Murtagh dragged a feisty young woman through the blistering rain to a shack. Cautiously hidden within the dense brush of the highlands, a faint orange glow radiated from beneath the door, followed by a rush of warm air that began to quickly thaw the icy chill that had soaked deep within her bones.
A trickle of blood cascaded down her forehead mingling with drenched locks of her long ebony brown hair. The thin wet layers of cloth covering her body suddenly felt like nothing as the men, crowded within the small room, stared at what was left of her chemise and corset. Unaware if her captures were friends or foe, she backed herself into a corner facing the scotsman, shielding her aching body as best she could.
Flowing phrases of gaelic were spat between the men. If it hadn't of been for the whack on her head, made during her capture by the butt of Murtagh's pistol, she would have been able to concentrate well enough to understand what they were discussing.
"What about young Jamie?"
These words snapped her attention to a young man crouched on a stool by the fireplace. His head hanging, auburn hair disguising his features. Looking closely, she noticed he was holding onto his shoulder which was jutting at an abnormal angle from the socket.
"Well we can't leave him here, and he can't ride a horse now can you lad?" Murtagh questioned, concern laced within his words.
The young man managed a painful shake of his head.
"Than the only option is to put that shoulder back where it ought to be." The leader of the group decided, motioning to the man closest to Jamie. Swiftly, a big brawny man quickly took his arm ready to forcefully pull it towards him.
"STOP! You'll crush it!" She cried out, unaware that words had actually escaped her throat.
The man stopped immediately, jolted by the sudden order from the foreign woman. Slowly all the men peered at her as though they forgot she was ever in the building. Forcing herself from the corner she positioned herself in the man's way who was about to set the injured one's shoulder.
"If ye yank on it without putting it back into place first you will break his arm." She spat. Her Irish accent thick and annoyed, anger now replacing the fear that being held captive had induced.
Without another word she stepped into Jamie's path, crouching down slightly to study his arm. After a few seconds she gently touched him, wrapping her hands above and below the elbow. Glancing up to her face, his eyes threaten to drown her within their blue depths, he signaled to her that he was prepared for whatever was to come. She took a deep breath, gave a quick nod, then began to carefully twist his swollen arm out of its abnormal position and back into the socket.
He gasped at the sudden release. His breathing beginning to slow, he looked up and for the first time saw her without the haziness caused by pain. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the firelight, staring back at him.
"I need someone's belt." she voiced, eyes never leaving Jamie's gaze.
The leader of men signaled to the brawny one who reluctantly handed his over to the girl. She gently secured it around Jamie's chest immobilizing his arm before realizing she had most likely helped one of the men that might end up killing her or worse, deliver her to the British.