crooked for a sennight. We don’t want that either.”
“Aunt Jennie will be here right away, I’m sure of it,” Connor said.
“If she’s home,” Jamie reminded him. “Sela’s asleep. Try to do it now. I think you gave her a big swig of the breath of life for someone who rarely drinks it.”
“Did Dyna leave?” Connor asked.
Jamie said, “She and Derric just left with a dozen guards.”
Connor moved back to Sela’s side and said, “Claray, we may need you to mop your mother’s brow. If she awakens, she’ll need soothing and you do it verra well.”
Claray glanced at Thorn and nodded. “Aye, Papa. I’ll do whatever I can.”
Thorn waited until they started, standing back to watch. It hurt to be there, to see the pain he had caused, however inadvertently, but it struck him that Claray might need comfort too, just like her mama would if she awoke. And if she needed comfort, he would be there for her.
After feeling her way around the bone as lightly as she could, Gracie said, “Merelda, I’m going to pull the end of the bone toward me, and I want you to put a wee bit of pressure on the broken section to see if you can push it back into place. When you think you have it in the right place, run your fingers down the bone so the edges are even and as close together as possible. Can you do that?”
Merelda’s face looked pale, but she nodded resolutely. “Aye, Mama.”
Gracie pointed to Sela’s shoulders. “Claray and Connor, you may have to hold her down. I can’t have her move once we’ve pulled on the bone, and it will hurt.”
They got into position and Gracie said, “Ready, Merelda?”
Merelda nodded and set her hands on Sela’s leg. As soon as Gracie pulled Sela’s foot toward her, she nodded to Merelda, who gently pushed on the bone.
Sela screamed and nearly came off the cot.
Thorn ran out the door.
Chapter Seven
Claray nearly let go of her mother, but her sire encouraged her to stay the course.
“Keep her still, Claray. Hold fast. Sela, Gracie has to move the bone back into place a wee bit.”
Sela moaned and fell back onto the cot, gripping her husband’s hand so hard her knuckles turned white. “Oh, Connor.”
Papa rested his cheek down against hers, allowing their tears to blend. Claray had rarely seen her sire cry, but Connor Grant was a man who cared deeply for his family, so it did not surprise her to see his tears. Tears were certainly coursing down her own cheeks.
Holding onto her mother’s shoulder so she wouldn’t lift off the cot, Claray thought about how poor Thorn must feel. He probably thought it was all his fault, but it was not. It was her fault.
She glanced past her father to see what Thorn was doing, but he’d disappeared. Scanning the hall, she couldn’t find him anywhere.
“He left, Claray,” Papa said. “’Twas probably too much for him.”
She understood that feeling, so she couldn’t blame him at all. How she wished she could join him. As soon as she had the chance, she would.
Claray watched Merelda do her slow, deliberate work, moving the bone just a wee bit to straighten it, then following the break with her fingers to see if it felt straight.
“How much longer, Gracie?” Mama whispered. “I don’t know how much more I can stand.”
Aunt Gracie sat up and eased Merelda back. “I think we may be finished until Aunt Jennie arrives. It’s important that it not start to heal crooked, and that the color in your foot stays pink. It was a bit dusky, so I wish to wait a moment or two, see if it improves.”
Claray stared at her mother’s still foot, just then noticing that the color wasn’t good. It looked nearly blue to her. Aunt Gracie touched the foot with the back of her hand. “Your foot is cool. That’s another sign I hope will improve now that we moved the bone a bit. When Aunt Jennie comes, she’ll bring opium powder to help with the pain.”
“I’ll not take it.” Mama looked over at Gracie, giving a small shake of her head.
“Promise me you will,” Papa said while he sat back. “I cannot bear to see you in such pain.” He cupped her cheek and brushed another tear away with the pad of his thumb.
“Please, Mama?” Claray asked.
“A small dose, mayhap.”
Claray pointed to her mother’s foot. “Look, ’tis turning pink.”
Aunt Gracie touched the skin again. “Good, it is definitely warming. While