“What is it?” he asked. “Are ye remembering?”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
She pivoted round . . . hitched up her skirts . . .
And ran.
Kieran was so startled by the turn of events, he required a full second to react.
And then he raced after her.
“Eilidh! Wait! Talk tae me!” he yelled.
She was quick and nimble on her feet. But even so, she slipped and staggered over the rocky outcroppings striating the beach.
He could hear the sounds of her sobs above the waves.
Her distress was no match for his determination.
He caught up with her and snagged her elbow.
“Talk tae me, lass,” he begged.
He expected her to pull away and keep running. Or to lash out, to hit and scream.
But that had been Jamie.
Eilidh . . . looked up at him with anguished eyes and then collapsed against his chest, seeking comfort.
The force of her unexpected capitulation caused Kieran to stumble back, nearly tumbling them both into the churning surf. He barely managed to keep upright.
She wept,greitingher anguish onto his chest. Heaving gusts wracked her, body shaking, as if willpower alone were holding her together.
Kieran said nothing.
He simply held her and let the wave of her pain crash over him.
“They k-killed him,” she hiccupped, her face pressed to his sternum. “Someone k-killed Mr. Chen.”
“What?” he gasped. “Who killed him? What do you remember?”
“I d-don’t know. But I saw him d-die. Vomiting blood. Like my brother did. B-blood. S-so much blood.”
“Oh, lass!” He pressed a kiss to her head.
She wept and cried and mourned. But it was more than grief, he realized.
Her body vibrated, a vicious trembling that shook them both. As if anxiety was pounding her to shards.
He could nearly taste her fear.
“What is it,mo chridhe?” he whispered. “What else did ye see?”
She shook her head against his chest.
“I’ll just hold ye then,” he continued. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
They stood there on the beach, locked in a tight embrace, for a long while. The sun and waves and wind soothed even as fear and panic churned in his chest.
