For Love or Country: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

chin.
    “Good, Captain Morgan. Drink a bit more,” she coaxed.
    Miss MacGregor’s voice. When had she returned? Hugh forced his weary eyes open. A dim candle burned on the table by the bed, but it was enough light to see an angel with flowing red hair falling in waves around her shoulders. She leaned over him with a look of concern. Her brow wrinkled as she bit her bottom lip and lifted the cup to his mouth. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but she poured water inside. Hugh closed his mouth to gulp down the liquid. He choked. Miss MacGregor leaned him up and pounded his back.
    “There now, I daresay, you shall be all right.” Her hair fell onto his face as the fragrance of sweet honey filled the air around her. It was a refreshing change from the stuffy chamber. “’Tis good to have you back. The fever made you take leave of your senses for several hours.”
    “Fever?” Had he been ill? He lifted an eyebrow in question, too weak and weary to do more.
    “Indeed.” She nodded sitting back down. “You have been running a temperature since evening. ’Tis now three o’clock in the morning.”
    “Really?” Hugh yawned, fighting the onset of drowsiness. “I thought I had merely dozed off and took a short nap, while I waited for your return. Did Kirk not tell you I asked for you?”
    “He did.” She nodded, flipping her wayward hair over her shoulder and drawing her shawl tight around her. “But I am not one of your soldiers to drop what I am doing and come running at your beck and call. Instead, I thought it more of my duty to see your men receive a proper Christian burial.”
    “Forgive me, Miss MacGregor, but I had hoped to attend their funeral.” Hugh glanced down at the foot of his bed. “’Tis one of the reasons I had asked for you.”
    “Well, in spite of your noble intentions, you were not in any condition to do so.” She relaxed against the back of the wooden chair and smiled at him. “When you are well enough, I will be pleased to show you their graves. I am sorry we did not have a minister to preside over them, but I prayed for their souls and for their grieving families. I read Scripture. ’Tis better than anything I could have said even if I had known them.”
    “Pray tell, what did you read?” Hugh struggled to clear the mire from his brain and concentrate on what she was saying. The woman wasn’t afraid to shoot a gun, bury dead men, or act in place of a minister. Yet, she had taken excellent care of him, a man who could cause much hardship for her family as her enemy. She had asked for mercy. Was it not why she had chosen to save him—to care for him? Miss MacGregor may be the War Woman to the local savages, but to him she was a woman of mystery and intrigue.
    “First Thessalonians 4, For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.” A rosy glow filled her smooth cheeks as she glanced away. “I was not sure what would be proper, I thought something with hope and promise would be best.”
    “Quite an unusual choice. I must admit, you are full of surprises. I would have expected a few verses from Psalms.” He ran a hand through his unruly hair as a yawn interrupted his speech. “I must beg your pardon for keeping you up so late. ’Tisn’t my intention to rob you of your rest.”
    “Too late, but I will gladly forgive you for an exchange of mercy for my family,” Tyra said.
    “It remains to be seen.” Hugh awarded her with a grin as he rolled to his uninjured side and closed his eyes.

Chapter 3
    3
    K irk burst through the front door and hurried into the parlor where Tyra read the Cape Fear Mercury and her mother sewed a pair of socks for one of the boys. The fire blazed as he gasped for breath, leaning over his knees. He