She assured him that he would be better soon.
He needed her, both the softness and the steel.
It mortified and infuriated him to lie there helpless and naked as a wee bairnie while she took care of his intimate needs, but he was too damned sick to do anything for himself. This was a woman who would keep him anchored safely to the earth, to life, with the force of her will.ĭuring the worst of it, when Keir was maddened by suffocating heat, and every breath felt like someone was stabbing a peat knife into his chest, the woman packed ice around him, or bathed him all over with cool cloths. She made him sip water or broth despite his struggles to keep anything down. She was unrelenting when it came time to dose him with medicines he didn’t want. She … her … He couldn’t hold on to her name … it kept darting away from him … but he was aware of her soft presence, her voice like honey, her hands bestowing cool, sweet calm on his tortured body.īut for all her softness, there was steel in her. Keir had never been sick like this before, in control of nothing, devolving into something less than human. It coiled in every jointure, bone, and ounce of flesh. THERE WAS NO ESCAPING the pain, not even in sleep.
