Page 102 of Steel & Surrender

Without another word, she hurried away.

Her stomach churned as she did so. She’d felt queasy ever since the attack.

At least, she didn’t have to fear a bairn.

The possibility alone had driven her to Moy.

Hazel hadn’t asked questions—only handed her a vial and instructions. Bitter as gall, yet effective. To her relief, it had brought on her menses.

Lost in thought, she walked on. She rarely had a moment alone these days, although when she did, she found it impossible not to brood.

Of course, her family had wondered where she’d disappeared to for a day and had questioned her upon her return from Moy. Brìghde had refused to answer them. She couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse, and she didn’t have the energy to argue. So, when her mother had begun to interrogate her, she’d simply gotten up from beside the fire and gone out to her forge, where she’d made herself a bed.

The next day, Ada had let it be.

Re-entering the village, Brìghde spied Greig then.

He was halfway up a ladder, and she noticed how he used his right knee to brace himself.

Indeed, he had learned how to live with his maimed left leg. It would never be right, but it wouldn’t stop him from doing most things either. He’d always have to be careful with his left leg, though, and he’d always have to work to keep it strong.

Somehow, knowing how determined the man was, she was confident he would.

She told herself not to look—to slip by and make for the wagons that had arrived from Craignure, bringing in much-needed supplies for the rebuild—but she couldn’t help it.

Sensing her stare, Greig lowered the hammer he’d been using, twisted, and glanced in her direction.

Pulse lurching, Brìghde yanked her own gaze away and hurried on.

“Yer mother told me about the list.”

Seated by the glowing hearth, his fingers wrapped around a cup of wine, Greig tensed.

It was a rare moment of companionship between father and son.

For once, Mairi wasn’t present, nor was Davy. Loch had called Greig in to share a drink with him before bed.

And now, Greig knew why. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. His parents didn’t keep secrets from each other. Of course, Mairi would have told him.

His stomach hardened.

No—if ye loved someone, ye didn’t lie to them.

“I worried about ye, son,” Loch said then, his voice roughening. “Watching ye fade before my eyes … and not interfere … was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

Greig’s eyes widened at this, yet his father wasn’t yet done.

“I knew I had to let ye be … that only ye could find yer way back.”

Greig’s throat thickened. He appreciated his father’s words. However, he hadn’t recovered without help. Not without Brìghde.

“All the same, I’ve been relieved to see the change in ye,” Loch went on, lowering himself into the high-backed chair opposite Greig. “I had no idea Alistair was the reason though.”

Greig’s fingers tightened around the cup. “I made him a promise,” he replied, cutting his gaze away and staring into the flames. Aye, and he’d paid for it. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t honored it.”

His father’s lips curved into a smile. “He’d have been impressed, I think. Although no surprise … Al worshipped ye.”

Greig jolted. A moment later, warmth crept up his neck. “No, he didn’t.”