Page 50 of The Best of Brenna Grant

“I waved at him, grinning.”

Ketill giggled, his hand over his mouth. “I wish I’d been there for that. So that was your other favorite memory?”

“Nay. My favorite memory of all time was the moment Uncle Alex told me that Great-Grandda and Great-Grandmama wanted to adopt me. I didn’t think anyone would ever want me.”

“Why not? I love you, Grandda.”

“Back then, I thought my mama and da gave me away. If my own parents didn’t want me, I thought I must be unlovable. I learned the story wasn’t true later on, as a child, I believed the worst. And when they agreed to adopt me, I knew I had a home.”

The door opened and his son Lucas emerged. “Da, why don’t you come down. It’s cold up here.”

Loki ruffled Ketill’s hair. “I’m on my way. Ketill was keeping me company, but the wind is getting stronger. Inside with you, laddie.” He followed his son and grandson down the stairs, stopping at his chamber.

Lucas paused with him and said, “Da, I’ll go with you to Muir Castle. I’m sure you’d like to see your mama.”

“Nay, she has Catriona and Alison and Braden and a slew of grandbairns to watch over her. I’d probably just get in the way.” He didn’t know how to explain that being an orphan had a way of making you feel as if you belonged on the outside. His parents had always made him feel loved, but he knew how others thought.

He stepped inside his chamber and grabbed another plaid to wrap around himself. He was still chilled from the wind. Lucas and Ketill went below stairs while he did his best to untangle his long strands of hair from the wind’s effect. He moved over to warm himself by the embers in the hearth.

A wee bit later, a voice rang out. “Grandda!”

“Coming,” he said, knowing they’d all wish to comfort him after losing his father. The man who’d meant everything to him, who’d taught him what love and fairness and pride and honesty and diligence meant. He’d miss him terribly. Even though he hadn’t seen him often in the past few years, he’d stopped at least a few times a year to visit with him.

To listen to his wisdom and to see the undying love in his gaze. After all these years, the man still loved him.

Not nearly as much as Loki loved Brodie and Celestina Grant.

“Loki Grant, get out here right now.”

His eyes widened and he turned, then froze. That voice sounded just like his mother. He had to be imagining things. Taking slow steps out to the balcony, he finally gained the courage to peek over the railing, surprised to see his beloved mother standing there, Braden and Cairstine right behind her.

“Mama? What are you doing here? You should be home in mourning.”

The lovely woman with the long white hair flowing down her back held something out to him. “I’m doing what your father asked me to do. Come down here, if you please.”

He made his way down the stairs, his gaze traveling across all the faces in the crowd from Muir Castle, his sisters and brother and their families. He stepped in front of his mother and bussed her cheek.

“Mama, I’m so sorry.” And the tears flowed down his cheeks again before he could finish his thoughts.

His mother reached up to cup his cheek. “I’ve accepted it. We lived a beautiful life together, blessed with bairns and grandbairns, and that never would have happened without your help. Your da wanted you to have this.” She held out a long, cloth-wrapped bundle. He took it and settled it on a nearby table, unwrapping it carefully, shocked to see what sat inside.

“Mama, you must have made a mistake.”

There, inside the wrapping, sat a sheathed sword. Loki recognized it instantly. It was the one Brodie had used in the Battle of Largs. The sword he used against Ivarsson, the cruel bastard, Brodie Grant’s most prized possession. It hung on the wall over the hearth at Muir Castle for many years.

“This belongs with Braden.” He picked it up, savoring the feel of the worn grip in his hands, his gaze traveling over the two gemstones embedded in the pommel, and the sharpened edge that had helped secure Scotland’s safety from the Norse.

His mother set her hand on his. “Nay, Loki. He wanted you to have it. It’s only because of you that Brodie found me so many times, because of you that he made it to the healer after he was injured at Largs. We adore Braden, but you are our first son, and you deserve it. He asked me to bring this to you.”

He looked to his brother, but Braden nodded in agreement. “You fought with him at Largs when he used that sword, Loki. You deserve it.”

Stunned, he had no words. He hugged his mother, then moved over to the wall displaying his family’s weapons and took down his old sword. With a deep breath, he set his sire’s sword in its place. It was the best spot on the wall. Turning back, he opened his arm to his mother and tucked her up next to him, Bella on the other side, and they admired it together.

“I’ll miss you, Da, but I’ll never forget all you taught me.”