He chuckled. “Surprisingly comfortable if there were good supplies of hay or straw. Our patients didn’t have much, but they were eager to share. When word spread that we had arrived, people would come for treatment from miles around. Sometimes we could help with their problems. Sometimes all we could offer was our prayers. No one ever left Frère Emmanuel’s presence without feeling blessed and happier.”

“What about your presence? Did the local girls try to lure you into sin?”

Lucas made a face. “Occasionally. I gained a reputation for being boring and pious so they soon gave up.”

Kendra suspected that would have made some girls try even harder to catch his attention, but Lucas must have learned how to be politely evasive. “I imagine it would have reflected badly on Frère Emmanuel if you succumbed to temptation.”

“Yes, and worse, he would have been disappointed in me. I didn’t want that.”

They’d left the city behind and were now among rolling green hills. Kendra imagined the two men, one old and one young, riding side by side on their humble mounts through similar hills. “He sounds like an extraordinary man.”

“Frère Emmanuel had a saint’s kindness and faith, and he lived with one foot in heaven.” Lucas smiled a little. “I couldn’t match his saintliness, but I was good at dealing with worldly matters.”

“Did he urge you to take vows?”

“No, he was too wise for that. He said I shouldn’t become a friar unless I felt I had a true vocation. I never did.” After a long pause, he continued, “After Frère Emmanuel died, I realized how much my devotion was to him and to the healing skills I’d learned from him. They were what gave purpose to my life.”

“You’ve lost him, which perhaps makes it even more important that you resume your healing work,” she said quietly.

His brows furrowed. “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but you’re right. Healing is essential to my spirit. But it’s not enough.”

She cocked her head. “What would ‘enough’ look like?”

His smile was rueful. “I have no idea. I think we both share the state of not knowing quite who we are.”

His words struck with the force of a ringing bell. Kendra had once defined herself as a mother and an estate manager and a very detached wife. Now she’d lost her child and her estate and was permanently detached from her husband. She was glad that she was no longer Denshire’s wife, but what was she? And what did she want to be?

She wanted to be a strong woman. She wanted to be a mother again. Most of all, she wanted to be in control of her life, not a helpless victim.