Katla stared at both of them, sending Trahern a heated look of disapproval. Pointing to the far end of the longhouse, she ordered, “Stay on that side, then.”
Trahern waited until the woman had reached the opposite side before approaching Morren. He eyed her carefully, wondering if she wanted him to leave. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t truly sleeping,” she admitted. “I don’t like to dream.”
He didn’t press her to answer why. “Do you want me to go? I’ll sleep outside if it would make you more comfortable.”
“Don’t be foolish. It may freeze tonight. And what good are you, if you’re dead?”
Her macabre remark made it hard not to smile. “Are you certain?”
She nodded and patted the ground beside her. “Sit with me and tell me what you learned from the others.”
In a low voice, he relayed all of the information to her but left out any mention of Adham. Though he didn’t know the man, he distrusted him for leaving Morren behind. He also wondered what feelings she held for Adham, if any.
“They’re going back to the cashel in the morning,” he told her, “to rebuild the homes. Do you want to come?”
Morren hesitated. “Will you go?”
He gave a nod. “I had planned to, yes. I want to speak with the other Ó Reilly men about the attack.” He softened his tone, suddenly aware of the dark memories Glen Omrigh would hold for her. “But if you’d rather remain here—“
“No, I need to return.” She looked over at her sleeping sister. “I think it would be best for Jilleen, as well.”
She leaned back, her spine resting against the wall of the hut. With their voices lowered, she had to lean closer to him to hear. He wondered if it made her fearful, being so near to him.
“Trahern, how long will you stay?”
Until I know you’re safe, he almost said, but stopped himself. She might misunderstand the words.
Protecting Morren and her sister was a way of atoning for his mistakes with Ciara. He wanted to be certain that her clan didn’t fall victim to theLochlannachor be absorbed into the Dalrata tribe. And that would take time he didn’t have.
Though he didn’t like the idea of wintering amongst them, soon enough it would be too dangerous to travel. “Long enough to help your clan rebuild,” he admitted. “I want to know why theLochlannachare so interested in your land. I suspect that there’s more that the chief isn’t telling us.”
He cast a look over at Katla, who had gone to sleep. “Among the Ó Reilly’s, I may learn more about the attack. And, if we work hard, you might spend the winter in your own homes.”
Morren shook her head. “Even if we rebuild, we don’t have the supplies we need to last through the winter. Not unless any of the harvest was spared.” A despondent look crossed her face. “I doubt if anyone tended the fields.”
“There’s time enough to hunt. If everyone works together, we could preserve enough meat.”
“But we’ve no grain.” She drew her knees up, growing quiet for a time. “And it’s too late to plant.”
“We could trade for what you need,” he offered. “There’s always hope.” He opened his palm to her.
She looked into his eyes, and he saw softness mingled with determination. Tentatively she lifted her hand and placed it in his. “You’re right. There’s hope.”
He curved his fingers over hers, knowing what it had meant for her to reach out to him. The serene beauty of her face caught him like a spear between the ribs. For Morren Ó Reilly was more than what she seemed, with a strength veiled beneath the delicate features. Her wistful blue eyes had seen too much horror. He found himself wanting her to find happiness again.
But not with Adham Ó Reilly.
He didn’t know where these possessive thoughts had come from. She needed a steady man to take care of her, to push away the nightmares of her past. Why should it matter if it were Adham, or Gunnar, or any other man?
Because those men didn’t know what she’d suffered. They hadn’t held the body of her child in the palm of their hand, nor did they know the unimaginable torment that she’d locked away.
She shouldn’t have to reveal it. They didn’t need to know.
Morren’s gaze fell to his feet. The ties of his shoes were loose, the leather stiff from the cold. She reached out to the ties, meaning to bind them.
But the light brush of her hands against his leg sent a rush of blood through his body. Though she did nothing more than adjust the ties, the gesture was unexpectedly arousing.
