Surrender to an Irish Warrior by Michelle Willingham Page B

sister. ‘Why would you think I’d want to “try”, after all that’s happened?’
    Her sister held herself motionless for a long time. When Morren was about to repeat her question, she saw the stricken expression on Jilleen’s face. She opened her arms, and Jilleen gripped her tightly, her voice trembling.
    â€˜It’s my fault, Morren. All of it. And I don’t want you to be so alone any more.’
    â€˜No, it wasn’t your fault.’ Morren stroked her sister’s hair, murmuring words of consolation. ‘It wasn’t.’ She held hersister’s face between her palms, trying to make her sister see that she didn’t hold her to blame. ‘What happened that night is over. I’m all right.’
    She repeated the words, meaning to make Jilleen feel better. But they seemed to slip down inside her, like a fervent wish for herself.
    She caught Trahern watching her, his face concerned. He saw the way she was holding on to Jilleen, and his silent question was evident.
    Morren gave him a faint nod of reassurance, waving her hand for him to go on with his work. He held back a moment, his steady expression reminding her that he was there for her.
    A faint warmth spread through her skin, with the trust that he would. His abrupt behaviour last night was starting to become clear. She’d trespassed, behaving like a wife instead of a friend. It wasn’t her place to take care of Trahern.
    But he took care of you.
    She released Jilleen, her feelings tied up into knots. Her sister meant well, but there could be nothing more between herself and Trahern.
    Not if you don’t try , Jilleen had said.
    Morren walked alongside her sister, braving a confidence she didn’t feel. She planned to lose herself in tending the fields, using the numbing work to forget the dark memories. And perhaps, one day, she’d lock them away forever.
    The men were hauling more stones from the opposite side of the cashel , building the wall higher than it was before. Though it was beginning to resemble the height of the Lochlannach longphort , she didn’t like the look of it. ‘They’re piling the stones too high,’ she murmured to Jilleen. ‘It’s not stable.’
    Should she say something? Then again, the men knew what they were doing, didn’t they? The chief’s expression remained determined, and she doubted if the leader would listen.
    But Trahern might.
    She walked towards the wall, hoping to warn him. When she reached his side, the world seemed to stop. The pile of rocks shifted, and Trahern lunged, pushing her forward.
    â€˜Get back!’ he roared. He struggled to keep the stones from falling onto her, just as Gunnar ran forward. Together, the two men leaned against the weight of the wall.
    Morren scrambled away, and seconds later, the rest of the balanced stones began to tumble.

Chapter Eight
    G unnar tried to block the stones, but Trahern strained hard, ordering, ‘Let them fall! It’s not worth breaking an arm.’
    The two men moved away at the same time, the wall collapsing without their weight to hold it.
    Trahern stumbled forward, leaning to kneel beside Morren. Her face was ashen, horrified. His own heartbeat shuddered within his chest, and he struggled against the instinct to pull her into an embrace. Instead, he touched her cheek. ‘Are you all right?’
    She nodded. ‘I didn’t mean to be in the way. I saw the unbalanced wall and wanted to warn you.’ She reached out to his arm and he noticed the smear of blood. ‘You’re hurt.’
    â€˜It’s nothing.’ He helped her rise, wiping the blood away.
    Her hand closed over his, her blue eyes filled with worry. Though she was still pale, relief had replaced the earlier horror. He squeezed her fingers, and was startled when she returned the gentle pressure.
    â€˜I’m glad you’re all right.’ With a half-smile, she released his