The Healer by Allison Butler

gaze met hers.
    ‘Help him.’
    Lynelle looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his thunderous stare. ‘I need water,’ she said. ‘And a vessel to prepare a potion.’
    With a few steps he stood beside the packhorse and retrieved the remaining supplies from its back. Watching him, noting his confident stride and powerful size, a sense of conviction rushed through her.
    She might lack confidence in many areas, but in this instance she had one thing he did not – the knowledge and the ability to heal his brother.
    He approached and handed her one of the two bundles he carried. ‘A gift from Iona.’
    Stunned, she simply sat and stared at the cloth sack in her lap. She’d never received a gift in her life. She hardly knew what to do with it.
    Guilt welled inside her and she bit into her lip at such an ungrateful thought. Ada had gifted her with a roof over her head and made sure she hadn’t starved. She’d also seen to it she was garbed, pilfering discarded garments that Lynelle had mended and altered for herself.
    ‘Open it. It contains an assortment of herbs from Lachlan’s healer.’
    The bundle seemed too heavy to hold only herbs. Unwinding the ties at the top, she loosened it and pulled numerous pouches from within. She tucked them back in, knowing her own collection would suffice for now, but promised to explore the contents thoroughly later.
    Her fingers brushed over something cold and hard and with a firm grip she lifted the unknown item out. A solid, stone bowl sat cupped in her hand, its centre hollowed and smooth. A mortar! Lynelle dipped her hand back inside the sack, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for. She pulled the small club-shaped instrument into the light, awed by the miniature pestle. The mortar and pestle were perfect for grinding and pounding her herbs.
    ‘Will this hold enough water?’
    Lynelle’s gaze leapt from the implements to the man crouching beside her, holding a carved wooden cup in his large hand.
    ‘Yes,’ she said.
    He rose and strode to the stream. In the sack he’d drawn the cup from, she caught sight of something gleaming at the top. Peering closer, she spied a small blade with an ivory handle.
    Her knife.
    The urge to reach for it was strong, but when she looked about to see if anyone watched her, she found Edan’s pain-glazed eyes resting on her.
    ‘Forgive me, Edan,’ she said, shamed by her wandering thoughts when he needed her attention.
    ‘Why? You have naught to be sorry for. My own recklessness caused my injuries. Though I’d never say as much to Will.’
    ‘Why ever not?’
    Edan’s brows lowered thoughtfully. ‘If I admitted I was at fault, he’d lecture me ‘til my ears rang and then he’d confine me indoors.’
    ‘He is concerned for you.’
    ‘I know he is trying to protect me, but sometimes he can be overbearing.’
    Lynelle smiled at Edan’s description of William and wondered how it must feel to have someone care enough to seem repressive.
    ‘Besides, all will be well,’ Edan said. ‘I have you to care for me, Lynelle. I trust you.’
    Lynelle’s heart dropped and her smile slipped. Would he trust her if he knew she’d never used her healing skills on anyone save herself? Dear God, she was naught but a fraud.
    A footfall drew her attention to William’s approach. What would he do to her if she failed to heal his young brother? She shuddered.
    She had a choice to make, and quickly. Either use what healing skills she possessed or admit her false claims and do nothing.
    The moment she again peered into Edan’s trusting eyes, she made her decision. A sense of purpose eased the churning in her stomach and lessened the trembling of her hands.
    ‘Are you in terrible pain?’ she asked, setting Iona’s sack of herbs aside and reaching for her own.
    ‘Not so much. My leg pains me most.’
    William hunkered down near her and handed her the wooden cup full of water.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said, placing it on a flat