Page 26 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
“What do ye enjoy about bein’ a healer?”
The question was a simple one. But it seemed to take her aback nonetheless.
“How many things would ye like me to provide?” she asked.
“How ever many ye’d like to,” Conall answered with the shrug of a shoulder.
“It’s a long list.”
She stared at Conall, seeming to think that this information would make him take back his question. He didn’t care, though.
He’d seen the way she’d behaved with the bairns when she’d first arrived at the castle. And he’d seen the way she’d fiercely advocated for herself against Auld’s. It was clear she was passionate about her work.
And now, Conall wanted to know why.
He waited patiently, something that he wasn’t able to do often. Finally, Eliza seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to be providing anything else to the conversation, and she sighed.
“I like helpin’ people,” she answered honestly. “That’s the short answer of it.”
“And the long?” Conall prompted.
Technically, she had answered his question. She didn’t have to go into more detail to satisfy what they’d agreed to before entering the game. But Conall wanted to see if he could get her to open up a bit more. He was willing to push just a little if he thought it would pay off.
A wistful look washed over Eliza’s face as she began speaking. Her brown eyes, which had been fraught with tension a moment before, began to soften. The corners of her mouth pulled into a soft smile.
“There’s nothin’ like it,” she explained. “The feelin’ ye get when ye’re able to save someone. Or, when they’re so sick they’re prayin’ to God to make them better, and ye’re the one He sends to do so. Givin’ people back their health? I cannae think of nothin’ better.”
By the time she finished speaking, her expression was more open than she’d seen from her so far.
“It’s a noble thing,” Conall mused. “Bein’ able to care for other people.”
Eliza nodded, but she didn’t elaborate any further as she turned her attention back to the game. She didn’t lose that softness, though. And, when she was the one to claim the next piece, she looked at him with a grin.
“Why have ye nae taken a wife?”
Conall’s stomach clenched. He’d tried to think of all the questions that she might ask and had tried to prepare himself for them as they’d played the game. But this one, he had not accounted for.
“I daenae want to,” he explained, his voice coming out a bit more defensive than he planned.
Eliza’s brows rose. “And why do ye nae want to?”
“That’s two questions.”
She stared at him pointedly, not moving to the board. She’d allowed him to press on the last question and had answered him honestly. And, with a sigh, Conall realized that he should do the same.
“Me parents,” he continued, his voice hesitant as he carefully chose each and every word. “They claimed to love each other. I thought they did. But when me faither died, it turned out to nae be as true as I thought. That knowledge,” he shook his head, trying to banish some of the images that pressed into his mind.
Images of his father’s body when it came back to the castle, the way his usually hulking form had seemed smaller in death. His mother had screamed to the heavens, had wailed so loudly in front of everyone that he was certain even the spirits had wept with her heartbreak.
And yet, she had been the one to kill him. It had all been an act. Every ounce of it. Every time his mother had gazed longingly at his father across the dinner table, every time he’d seen the way she touched him softly – it had all been a lie.
How could he ever trust a wife after that? How could he trust that he would not end up in a grave with poison in his belly just like his father?
“That knowledge that it was false broke somethin’ in me,” Conall finally finished, his confession settling heavy in the air around them. “I’ve had no desire to take a wife since the day I became Laird.”
A thousand more questions danced behind Eliza’s eyes, but before she could try to ask them, Conall turned his attention to the game.
What he’d just admitted, it had soured his stomach.
