The Warrior's Touch by Michelle Willingham Read Free Book Online Page B

anger, but I have forbidden Aileen to heal any more. She is too young and has not the skills.’
    Connor glanced downward at his splinted hands, but he pushed back the feelings of doubt. He didn’t entirely trust Aileen’s healing either, but he wouldn’t consider letting the Ó Banníon healer touch his hands.
    ‘I’d rather she splint my hands than anyone bearing the Ó Banníon name.’
    Seamus expelled a breath. ‘I’ve come to take you back with me.’
    Though he knew Seamus meant well, he’d rather take his chances with Aileen. ‘I thank you for your offer, but I will be staying here.’
    ‘I cannot allow it.’
    ‘But you will. You know why I won’t trust the Ó Banníon healer. And here I can remain in isolation until I’ve healed. I don’t want to endure anyone’s pity.’
    Seamus leaned back on his heels. ‘I do not like it, lad. Because of her…’ His voice trailed off.
    There was pain in the man’s voice. Connor didn’t ask, for he knew whatever had happened would only bring up harsh memories. Instead, he took a deep breath, pushing back his own pain. ‘I make my own decisions. And here I will stay until I have my strength back.’
     
    When Aileen reached the door to the sick hut, she found Connor lying upon the pallet, his face pale. Perspiration lined his brow, but he opened his eyes when she neared him.
    ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he demanded.
    ‘Tell you what?’
    ‘That you are no longer the healer. My hands—’He broke off his own words, closing his eyes with the pain. Aileen stoked the fire, hanging a pot of water to boil.
    ‘They’re hurting you. I know. It’s the swelling.’
    He struggled to stand, his balance swaying.
    ‘Sit down. You’ve a fever.’ Aileen eased him back down.
    She mixed herbs together that were good for fever, including willow bark. Adding the boiling water to a wooden cup, she steeped the mixture and allowed it to cool.
    When it was ready, she raised it to his lips to drink. He winced at the bitter taste, never taking his eyes from her. There was weariness and pain in his eyes.
    ‘Kyna taught me all she knew,’ Aileen said. ‘There is nothing wrong with my skills.’
    ‘Isn’t there?’
    She heard the accusation in his voice, but refused to back down. ‘Do you truly wish for Illona Ó Banníon to treat your hands?’
    The frustration and fury in his eyes were damning. Aileen busied herself with the pot, suddenly realising that she had prepared nothing for the evening meal. For the past two moons, she had only herself to care for. More often than not, she simply ate a bit of bread or vegetables from her garden.
    ‘Can I get you something to eat?’ she asked, when he’d finished the tea.
    ‘No. I require nothing.’ He turned his gaze away. He had shut her out of his thoughts, and Aileen knew better than to force him to eat.
    ‘Did you enjoy your visit with Sinead and Grania?’ she asked, trying to end the awkwardness.
    ‘I’ve no wish to be treated like a child, fed by hand, my pillows fluffed.’
    ‘I don’t recall fluffing your pillow,’ she said.
    His face relaxed a little, and she watched for signs of the pain receding.
    ‘I suppose I have no choice but to stay here and let you tend me,’ he said. He lifted his bandaged hands, his gaze boring into hers. ‘What’s done is done. You’ve already set the bones and it cannot be changed without creating more damage.’
    ‘If you return home, your own healer can tend them.’ She spoke as if it were of no matter to her. But it hurt, knowing that he held no confidence in her skills. She had done everything she could to save his hands.
    ‘And as I’ve said, I am not returning home. I’ll lose respect among my men if they see me like this. They won’t believe I can ever wield a sword again.’
    Aileen did not voice that it was a very real possibility.
    He softened his tone to one of teasing. ‘And with you, there’s no worry about you trying to seduce me. You would not care,