Page 29 of Ruining a Highland Healer
"Yers are gone too, are they nae?" Valora asked. Torrin nodded, just as she expected him to.
"Aye, they are," he said. "An’ they… their deaths were far from pleasant, so I understand what it means tae be unable tae save someone ye love. I couldnae an’ it?—"
Torrin stopped himself abruptly, but Valora didn’t need him to finish his sentence for her to know what he was trying to say. She had failed to save her mother, too, and it had broken her, just as it had broken Torrin to fail in saving his parents.
"It isnae easy," Valora said, "livin’ with this."
"Nay," said Torrin. "Nay, it really isnae."
And, perhaps for the first time in her life, Valora felt completely understood.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There was a lot that Torrin wanted to ask Valora, but it didn’t seem like the right time for any of it. The subject of their parents had shifted the mood between them into something more intimate, but also heavier. It was a heavy burden that they both carried, and Torrin had meant for that day to be fun, a way for Valora to meet the people who may soon be her subjects—not for them to fall back into their grief.
So, as he took her back to the village square, he dragged her to a stall that he knew and loved. The moment the woman behind it, Ella, saw him, she gave him a big smile that stretched her ruddy cheeks. She was an older woman, though no more than a decade older than Torrin himself. Even so, she looked much younger than her years, and the only thing that gave away her age were the gray hairs around her temples.
"Welcome, me laird!" she called over the bustle of the market. It was busy at that time of the day, people running about to finish their daily chores while others enjoyed a simple day atthe market, purchasing goods and food. The latter was what Torrin had in mind, and so he had taken Valora to Isla, knowing she would never disappoint. "It’s good tae see ye again. Are ye stayin’?"
"Nay, nay," said Torrin with a wave of his hand. "Nay this time. We must return tae the keep."
Ella’s gaze fell on Valora then, and her smile only widened. "Are ye the lady who took care o’ our wee Jamie?"
Valora glanced at Torrin from the corner of her eye, as though she didn’t know what and if she should respond. Torrin took the lead, taking a step forward at the same time so that he was leaning over Ella’s fragrant stall.
"That’s her," he told her in a conspiratorial tone. "She’s too humble tae say it."
"Well, thank ye," Ella told Valora. "That wee laddie is runnin’ around all day. I keep tellin’ him, watch herself, Jamie, but he never listens."
"I dinnae think he listened tae me, either," Valora confessed. "Though he agreed he would stop."
"Dinnae believe a word from his mouth," said Isla. "That’s what he says tae everyone, but he never keeps his promises."
The two women laughed together, much to Torrin’s delight. The people in the village seemed to have taken a liking to her already. Word traveled fast in those parts, and Torrin was willing to bet everyone in the village knew it had been Valora who had cleaned and dressed his wounds.
"Well, what can I get ye, me laird?" Ella asked him then, pointing to the array of delicacies on her stall. There was everything from bannocks and pastries to cured meat.
"I wanted Miss MacNeacail here tae try yer pastries," said Torrin. They were always sweet, flaky, decadent in a way that even the cooks in the castle couldn’t replicate.
"I have apple an’ pear an’ thyme," said Ella. "Take yer pick."
"Two o’ each," said Torrin, but Valora turned to him with a stunned look.
"Who will eat all that?"
"If ye dinnae, then I will," Torrin said, knowing himself. He could not resist those damned things. Then, he turned back to Ella and added, "An’ some meat. Did yer husband make it?"
"Och aye," said Ella. "Ye ken how he is with these things."
Torrin did, indeed, know how her husband was when it came to curing meat. He had honed it down to almost an art, in a way no one else Torrin knew had.
Truly, I should ask them tae work fer me in the castle.
But then he would be taking all that joy away from the villagers, and that was the last thing he wanted. He would limit himself to visiting them and eating at the village—and perhaps packing some more to take with him to the castle when he left.
As they spoke, Torrin saw a giant, shaggy dog, its fur almost covering his eyes walking towards them.
"Ach, there ye are again," Ella told the dog, gently shooing it away. "Did I nae give ye enough food afore? Ye want more now?"
