‘And you, Da.’
His smile faded and her skin prickled with fear. Graeme Ó Duinne was a man she’d admired all her life, a father who spoke his mind without excuses. Somehow she suspected his presence boded unwelcome news.
Her father put a hand upon her shoulder. ‘Seamus informed me that you have been looking after Connor Mac-Egan. Is that true?’
‘Yes. He needed care, and I gave it.’ She sent her father a penetrating gaze. ‘Unlike others who would let a man suffer rather than accept help from me.’
‘Seamus lost a great deal. He is a father who is not thinking clearly.’
She knew it, but bitterness cloaked her heart. ‘He should open his eyes to the son he has instead of dwelling upon the past.’
‘He cannot.’ Graeme shook his head. ‘And neither should you dwell upon the past.’ Her father cupped her cheek, his eyes turning serious. ‘You have suffered the loss of a husband, daughter. I know you grieve for him, but it is time to put it behind you. You wish to bear other children, do you not?’
The shadow of sadness passed over her heart at the mention of it. How many times had she wept at her inability to bear Eachan a child? A kind man he had been, the kindest. He had taken her in, spoken to no one of her shame. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her throat closed up. ‘I do miss my husband.’
‘You should marry again, Aileen. When theaenachbegins, many will seek a wife. You need someone to take care of you.’ Fatherly concern drew out the wrinkles in his face. ‘It is for the best, now that you can no longer be the healer.’
Aileen wanted to cry out,No, it isn’t for the best. But she would not disgrace herself by begging. It wasn’t the prospect of a husband that hurt so deeply. It was the loss of her healing as a means to help others.
The idea of never visiting the sick, tending their illnesses, and watching them heal was like a razor to her gut. And they wanted her to give it up.
Only when her father had left did she indulge herself in weeping. She cried on the way back to her small hut, letting the tears fall freely. She hadn’t thought of Eachan in so long, but the mention of marriage brought all the grief back. A twinge of loneliness tugged at her heart.
When she reached her small hut, she leaned against the door and wiped the tears away. She ducked beneath the bundle of wool hung above the frame and went inside. Her gaze fixed upon the small wooden tub in the corner that she used for bathing. She could hardly imagine a tall man such as Connor inside it, and suddenly her earlier apprehensions grew stronger.
Temptation and mixed dreams filled her imagination, thoughts for which she chided herself. Connor MacEgan was a man who had hurt her once before, never knowing how he’d crushed her tender feelings. This time, she would not fall prey to such a man again.
‘Graeme Ó Duinne, have you lost your wits? Why on earth would you trouble our daughter with nonsense about wedding again?’
Graeme chuckled, sitting back with satisfaction. ‘She’s been alone for too long. I am just giving her the push she needs.’
His wife glared at him. Graeme enjoyed seeing her ire. Never was Póla so alluring as when she grew angry. Like abean-sidhe, Póla advanced upon him, her grey eyes thunderous. ‘And what were you thinking, leaving an innocent girl alone with a man such as Connor?’
‘Our Aileen has borne a child, Póla. She’s a widow, free to do as she pleases. There is no shame in her being alone with Connor.’
‘What will everyone think of her?’
‘Likely the same as I do. It is about time someone matched the two of them up. It may as well be meself. I intend to see them wed before the winter.’
‘She’s lost her husband,’ Póla argued. ‘It is too soon.’
‘And what better man to comfort her? Our Aileen has held feelings for Connor for many years.’
He gathered Póla into his arms. ‘Do you not think she deserves happiness?’
‘I think you are an interfering old man who should keep himself out of Aileen’s life.’
He tilted her chin to look at him. ‘I’ve a secret, carried over this past moon that I would share with you. Can I trust you with it?’
Her face softened. ‘Of course.’
‘Eachan did not father Aileen’s daughter. Rhiannon belongs to Connor.’
Póla’s face whitened. ‘I don’t understand. She—they never—’
‘I’ve a story to tell you,a stór.’ He took her in his arms, kissing her cheek. ‘And when I’ve finished, you’ll understand what Eachan made me promise. He asked me to bring them together, for he loved Aileen so. He wanted to gift her with the man she truly wanted.’ Póla’s eyes grew misty, and he knew he had touched her heart.
‘Fate has brought them together, and this is how I shall keep the vow I made to Eachan.’
