Torac (Guards of Clan Ross Book 2) by Hildie McQueen

Author:Hildie McQueen [McQueen, Hildie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Pink Door Publishing
Published: 2023-01-12T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

That Balgair would never fight again was a horrible truth that had yet to fully sink in. Each morning he woke expecting to be at the guard post only to realize that once again he was at Swannoc’s home.

That he depended on a woman for everything was becoming more unbearable by the day. It should be the other way around. A man should be the one who protected, cared for, and ensured no harm came to a woman.

He’d leave as soon as he could mount. Go as far away from there as possible. Hide two things from her. His embarrassment at being so weak, and his growing attraction to her.

A woman like Swannoc, independent, beautiful, and kind deserved a man who was able to defend her at all costs. Not to mention keeping her satisfied in bed.

His teeth threatened to shatter when he gritted them in order not to moan when sitting up. Despite him arguing he was better, Swannoc refused to allow him to sleep in the front room, stating how it would slow his recovery to sleep on a cot.

As much as he argued against taking the bedchamber from her, he had to admit it would be impossible to sleep on a small cot and keep from hurting his injured side.

It was early afternoon and he’d fallen asleep while sitting in the warm sun fletching arrows. Once he was better healed, he’d begin practicing with a bow and arrow. As his right side was stronger, Balgair expected it would be easier to shoot arrows than attempt to lift a sword or any other weapon.

He straightened and tentatively touched the area and was glad that it didn’t hurt as much. The area remained tender, but he was able to walk and do more each day.

Later that day it would be time to change the dressing and see the progress of his wound.

Still unable to lift that arm, he’d donned a tunic that had been torn down the front and belted. Unable to put his boots on by himself, instead, he walked out wearing the knitted stockings Swannoc had made for him.

If any of the warriors saw him, they would laugh at the sight of him in a wrapped tunic and knitted socks.

It was quiet inside the house, and he expected Swannoc, and the dogs had gone into the village. A few sniffs of the air told him she’d not cooked before leaving. Balgair held a cane he’d made and used it to stand.

“There ye are.” Torac appeared at the doorway. The male’s gaze swept over him, but to his credit, his face remained passive. “It is good to see ye on yer feet.”

Balgair motioned for his friend to come out to the small courtyard. “Come sit. Tell me what happens at the camp.”

“I brought ye food. I saw Swannoc just before heading this way and she said ye would be hungry.”

Taking the meat pies wrapped in cloth, Balgair nodded. “I am.”

He ate as Torac told him of men

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