The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7) by Keira Montclair Read Free Book Online

hardly ignore what that tender caress of her hand did to his skin. His pain had eased considerably with her soft ministrations, changing his response to a burgeoning erection. Without the linen, he would totally embarrass himself.
    “Then cover as much as you can. If ’tis due to shyness, there is naught you have that I have not seen before today. I have treated so many wounded warriors that they march through my nightmares.”
    “Healing causes you to have nightmares? Then why do it?”
    “I came to the abbey to get away from the tragedies of the clan wars. My hope was that some time away from healing would help clear my mind, but your mother requested that I tend to your injury.”
    “Then leave me be.” He stilled her hand. “I am alive and will heal. It has been several days now. Go back and tend to your own needs.”
    Jennie tugged her hand back and continued. “I shall finish what I started.”
    Aedan quickly grasped for her hand again. Jennie froze at his touch, halting her ministrations. He whispered, “Leave me if ’tis not in your wish to continue to heal. You have done enough. Leave the salve and I will apply it. You need not see me again.” Aedan rolled onto his back enough to gaze into her eyes. So many emotions flitted across her face, he had trouble following them—anger, frustration, sadness, and was that empathy?
    He wished he could read her thoughts, but he could not. Her mind moved too quickly for him. She stared at him, finally making eye contact. Her brown eyes were flecked with gold, he noticed, gold that matched the highlights in her chestnut colored hair. The gold caressed her as it would a queen, yet she had no air of arrogance about her, just a sadness that he wished to wash away for her.
    His memory of her in Lothian was of a different lass—young, naïve, confident. He did not see that confidence today, even though she had brought him back from a place he would rather forget. He was not ready to greet his sire yet. With such talent, why was she so confused?
    Perhaps they shared more than he would have guessed. Apparently, she was as confused as he was about his present situation. Did she feel as though she was thrown into being a healer as he did about becoming chieftain?
    He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, a soft rhythmic caress meant to calm her. “Jennie, leave me be. You must tend to yourself.”
    “What do you mean?” Her gaze briefly glanced at his hand on hers before returning to her work.
    “Your frustration is evident in all that you do. You must come to terms with who you are before you tend to others.”
    “I cannot.”
    “Then return to the abbey to seek peace and guidance. You are not the same lass who fired an arrow into the woods some time ago and then charged at me like a protective mother wolf at her cub, seeking to right any wrongs. ’Tis not the same look I see in your eyes.”
    Jennie wrenched her hand from Aedan, shocked at his assessment of her. How could he read her so well? She turned to face her satchel of tools, but then whirled back toward him. She slathered a gob of salve on his hip, gave him a few terse instructions, and then grabbed her skirts and her satchel and ran from the room.
    At the doorway, she stopped. “You are a fool, Cameron. You speak too freely.” She spun on her heel and left.
    “Lass, you cannot fight the truth. Heal thyself first,” he yelled after her.
    After she left, he chastised himself for sending her out of the room. Quite simply, he wished to be around Jennie Grant. But she had reacted defensively, conflict and tension written all over her face and in all her movements. What had happened to her? Perhaps he had been too harsh with her, but he understood how sometimes people needed to hear the truth, whether they liked it or not.
    He could see how tending wounded lads could be very tiresome. Her chosen vocation promised happiness and fulfillment if successful. But wretched failure was also possible. How could a