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freshly made bed.
    It was rather awkward to wash under the blanket, but she managed to scrub every speck of skin clean with a small cloth and warm water. Ursula held out a nightgown. With the cover tucked around her, she lifted her arms.
    “You said I fell down a flight of stairs?” She mumbled from beneath the folds of the soft linen. Why hadn’t Abby told them she’d been in a car accident? Her newest-best friend had a lot of explaining to do.
    “Aye. Cracked yer skull wide open ye did. Broke yer left leg, and only the Good Laird kens what else. Ye’ve been asleep e’er since.”
    Why would Abby tell them which leg she’d broken, yet not mention the fact that she’d regained consciousness directly after surgery? None of this made sense.
    “But ”
    “Dinnae fash yerself. Ye can question Liam all ye want after ye swallow a bit of broth.”
    “Liam?” Was he the man here before or another of Abby’s friends?
    Again, a frown wrinkled Ursula’s round features. “Aye. Himself will be back shortly. Eat and if ye hold that down, there be a piece of bread, too. I’ll leave the tankard of cider fer ye’re thirst. Liam weel come in a bit to have a wee chat.”
    With another hefty lift and a shove, Ursula placed her in the bed and tucked the covers around her. All accomplished as if she were a small child instead of a fully-grown woman. Gnarled fingers smoothed back the hair from her forehead.
    “Good, the fever hasnae returned. Do ye need help to feed yerself?”
    “No thank you. I will manage.” She hadn’t needed help feeding herself since the day after surgery.
    A flash of what appeared disappointment filled the old woman eyes. Ursula nodded then hobbled out the door. What an odd creature. If Abby thought she still needed a nurse, why had she taken her from the center? It would have been better to have left her there or taken care of Maggie herself. She rubbed her temples as a jumble of confused thoughts assailed her.
    A low growl emitted from her stomach, reminding her how long it had been since she’d eaten. Hungry, she reached for the cup of broth. Her hand trembled, and her arm quivered. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so hasty to refuse Ursula’s offer of help. She must have had a relapse. Fingers curled to grasp the cup in both hands. Bringing the mug to her lips, she took a large swallow. Her stomach rebelled, churned, but after several deep breaths, settled. What was wrong? Solid food had been on her diet for weeks.
    When she finished what scant food her stomach would hold, she snuggled down into the clean bed to wait for the man with the scarred face and ebony eyes.
    It could have been moments or hours later when the prickling of her skin woke her. Ursula’s Liam sat in the chair, his gaze fixated on her. Abby should have left Colin or Travis with her instead of this complete stranger; at least through Abby’s stories she felt acquainted with them.
    “Ye be awake.”
    Caught off guard by the instant familiarity that caused her stomach to jump and turn end over end she replied, “Aye.”
    One side of his mouth lifted at the corner in a grin while the other stayed immobile. She had the impression he didn’t smile often. Before his wound had healed, it must have been painful to smile.
    His eyes sparkled with an indiscernible emotion. Something in his dark eyes beckoned, almost willing her to remember a more intimate moment between them.
    Resisting his masculine appeal, she struggled to sit up. Immediately, he rose to help. Seated on the edge of the narrow bed, he drew her snugly against his broad chest and adjusted the pillows behind her. Her breath hitched at the contact, and she inhaled. The faint odor of heather invaded her senses.
    How did she recognize the smell of heather? Heather wasn’t indigenous to the part of Oklahoma she came from. If indeed, Tulsa was her true home.
    The material under her cheek felt soft. Instinctively, she rubbed her face against him and felt his chest expand with