Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart Of The Warrior by Lindsay McKenna

was a healer, yes?”
    Roan nodded and squatted down. “Yes, she was.” He saw that the smudge of sage had burned out. Tossing it into the river as an added gift, he took the abalone shell and placed it back into his bag.
    “And did she heal by laying her hands on others, as we do in the Jaguar Clan?”
    Roan wrapped the feather fan gently back into the red cotton cloth and placed it back into the bag as well, and then zipped it shut. He craned his neck upward and met her half-closed eyes. There was a thoughtful look on Inca’s face now. She was so incredibly beautiful. Did she know how attractive she was? Instantly, he saw her brows dip. Was she reading his mind again? Frustrated, Roan figured she was, as he eased to his full height once again.
    “My mother was a Yuwipi medicine woman. Her assistants would tie her wrists behind her back and tie up her ankles and then roll her up into a rug and tie the rug up as well. The lights would be doused, the singers and drummers would begin. The ceremony takes hours, usually starting at nightfall and ending at dawn. My mother, with the help of her spirit guides, was released from herbonds. She then prayed for the person whom the ceremony was for. Usually, that person was there in the room. There could be five, ten or fifty people sitting in that room, taking part in the ceremony. Lights would dance through the place. Horns would sound. The spirits brushed the attending people with their paws, their wings or tails. All prayers from everyone were directed to the person who was ill.”
    Inca nodded. “A powerful ceremony. And did the person get well?”
    He smiled a little and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “They always did when my mother conducted the ceremony. She was very famous. People came to her from around the world.” He glanced at Inca’s shoulder, where the splinter had wounded her. “And your clan heals with touch?”
    Inca nodded. “You could say that.”
    “And healing is your calling? Your vision?”
    “It is my life,” she said simply. Lifting her hand, she watched as the dolphins sped away from the tug, finished with their play. “I took a medicine vow when I became a woman at age twelve. The jaguar priestess who was training me at that time inducted me into the service of our mother, the earth. She then prepared me to go to the clan’s village for training, which began at age sixteen.”
    Roan shook his head. “It sounds like you were passed around a lot, from person to person. Did you ever find out who your parents were?” Instantly, he saw her close up. Her eyes grew opaque with pain and her lips compressed. Roan mentally kicked himself. He’d asked the wrong damn question. “Forget it,” he said quickly. “You don’t have to answer. That’s too personal….”
    Touched by his sensitivity, Inca found herself opening up at his roughly spoken words. She saw so much in his large eyes, in those glinting black pupils. Normally, if someone broached a question regarding her past, she’d shut down, get angry and stalk off. Not this time. Inca couldn’t explain why her heart felt warm in her breast, or why her pulse quickened when he gave her that special, tender look. Always, she felt that blanket of security and warmth automatically surround her when Roan met and held her gaze. She was unsure of how to react, for she’d never met a man quite like this before. She wanted to be wary of him, to remain on guard, but his demeanor, and the fact that he was Indian like her, made her feel safe. Safe! No one had ever given her that sense before.
    “No, I will answer your question.” Inca sat down and leaned against the bulkhead. The last of the shakiness that always inhabited her after a confrontation left her. Being with Roan was soothing to her hard-wired nervous system, which was always on high alert. She crossed her legs, her hands resting on her thighs. Roan did the same, keeping a good six feet of space between them. Inca sighed. There