He leaned down, his hot breath warming her ear as he whispered. “I couldn’t stop thinking about having you naked in my arms again. I thought you’d appreciate it if I kept my hands to myself.”
Taking the heavily laden basket from her, Dallan strode ahead, looking entirely too pleased with himself. For severalmoments, it was all Niamh could do to catch her breath as her heart raced like an arrow toward its target.
Chapter Twelve
It had beena low blow, thrusting old emotions on her, teasing her with some of their best memories, especially after they’d agreed not to bring it up.
But, in his defense, she’d asked. And his answer, though provocative, had been truthful.
His heart might have built barriers to keep her far away, where she could do less damage, but his body betrayed him at every turn, reminding him how deeply he still desired her.
The following morn, he headed to the infirmary after he broke his fast, reminding himself that hewas noteager to see her again.
Hopefully he’d believe it before he arrived.
When he opened the door to the modest stone building, Dallan didn’t know what to expect. Would she be angry? Would she finally be honest? Would she throw herself into his arms but leave him guessing? Perhaps nothing would have changed at all.
The one possibility he hadn’t considered was that he should find her in a crumpled heap, bent in half over her worktable and sobbing uncontrollably. Rushing over, he took her into his arms without a second thought.
She soaked hisléinewith her tears as he rubbed her back, sniffling and hiccoughing, unable to take a full breath.
At first Dallan worried his comment last eve had rattled her, but even if it had, she’d not be in such a state now. She’d haveshed her tears last night, maybe, but he knew she’d not let him see it.
Not if it had anything to do with him.
Searching the room as he held her shaking body, Dallan finally identified the problem. On a cot nearby, a man missing one leg had the ashen pallor of death. Dallan had fought enough battles to know the unmistakable look of it when he saw it.
Smoothing her disheveled hair, he did his best to soothe her.
“I’m sorry, Niamh,” he whispered into her hair, ignoring the overpowering scent of lavender that accompanied his every breath.
“I lost him,” she managed, sucking in a ragged breath. “I couldn’t stop his fever. Nothing worked.”
Dallan took her gently by the shoulders, pulling back to look her dead in the eyes. “You did your best. He was lucky to have you with him.”
“I failed him.”
His heart ached at the look on her face. “You are the best healer in all of Éire, and I won’t hear otherwise. If you couldn’t save him, he wasn’t meant to be saved.”
She threw herself back into his arms. She yet shook, but her tears abated. “I’ve never lost a patient to aught but old age.”
Dallan squeezed her tight, as though he could push all her sadness and grief from her in one giant embrace. “Have you healed men wounded in battle before?”
She stood quiet for so long he thought she wouldn’t answer. When finally she spoke, her voice was stronger. “Yes, but not like this. They had walked for several days back home.”
“Then you tended those with the least grievous wounds. His death is not your burden to bear.”
A woman cleared her throat behind them, startling both Dallan and Niamh. Dallan turned to see Niamh’s mother, Líadan, standing wide-eyed holding the cat in her arms.Morrígan looked none too pleased to be there. Before Líadan could say a word, Morrígan meowed in irritation and forced herself free from Líadan’s grasp.
“How is your shoulder coming along?” she asked, kindly ignoring that she’d caught them in a rather familiar embrace.
“Much better, thank you.” Dallan turned to Niamh. “How can I help?”
Líadan, apparently just noticing the streaks on Niamh’s cheeks from her profusion of tears, rushed to her daughter’s side. “What’s happened?” She looked at Dallan accusingly before turning back to Niamh. “Sweetheart?”
Dallan couldn’t help but feel a tad sour about being the first place she looked for trouble. Hadn’t her daughter been the one to leave him? What did the woman think he had done?
“Tadhg…died.” Niamh tripped over the last word, her tears springing anew.
