Page 55 of Steel & Surrender

His smile turned sheepish. “Aye … I’m guilty of that.”

Her stomach tightened. She appreciated his honesty, yet at the same time, it frustrated her.

“Ye think we’re so different?” she replied, her voice tight now.

She wished to point out then that his mother, Mairi, had come from common stock. She was the daughter of an innkeeper, and when her father had died, she’d taken over running The Craignure Inn. But that hadn’t prevented the clan-chief from losing his heart to her—from taking her as his wife.

Years on, all the locals—Brìghde included—still marveled at how strong and happy and enduring their union was. Surely, that was proof enough that there was more that united them than separated them?

She pointed none of this out, though. It would only vex him, and she didn’t want to sour things. Not today.

“Ye’re right,” he murmured, shifting his gaze out to the view once more, his brow furrowing. “I can be an arrogant prick sometimes. Comes with being Loch Maclean’s firstborn, I suppose.” He winced then. “Although life has tried to kick it out of me.”

“It hasn’t succeeded … not yet, anyway,” Brìghde teased, punching him lightly on the arm. “Ye’re still as conceited as ever, Maclean.”

Snorting a laugh, he tucked his ale skin back into his belt and turned, chin lifting as he viewed the final ascent that would take them up to the summit. “Well, we’ve both caught our breaths,” he said, his hands flexing at his sides. “Now for the last push.” He glanced Brìghde’s way. “Are ye ready?”

She flashed him a grin in return. “Always.”

16: THE GIFT

THE LAST STRETCH was even more grueling than Brìghde remembered.

The ground steepened once again. Rock dominated, and soon they were using their hands to climb over some of the boulders. Scree slid treacherously underfoot.

And as they climbed, Greig started to struggle.

His bad leg lagged behind him, each step an effort.

He didn’t say a word, though. Brìghde just marked how he started to stumble more often. There were times when he strapped his stick to his back to free up his hands to climb. And as he heaved himself over another boulder, he let out a curse.

“What is it?” Brìghde panted, pulling herself up next to him.

He sat on the edge of the boulder, breathing hard, sweat slicking his face. “This cursed mountain wants to break me,” he gasped, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Ye’d better not let it,” she replied. “I intend to beat ye to the top, remember?”

She wasn’t sure she could, and in fact, she wanted nothing but to sit there for a while longer and let her burning muscles recover. But if there was one way to spur Greig on, it was to issue a challenge.

He wouldn’t want to be bested, especially not by a woman.

Casting him a goading smile, she pushed off, boots sliding on loose scree as she clambered farther up the slope. “Come on,” she called back. “The summit’s just ahead. Race ye there.”

A curse splintered the air behind her, and then she heard the crunch of boots on gravel.

Her smile widened. Good. He wasn’t giving up.

However, she wasn’t moving as fast as she wished to. Brìghde was fit, her arms and legs strong, but soon her arms trembled as she heaved herself up over the edge of another rock. She gritted her teeth in pain as her knee slammed against stone and then pushed herself forward, limping on.

Neither of them had the strength for a true sprint, but pride drove them on all the same.

And behind her, the crunch of Greig’s boots drew closer. She glanced over her shoulder to see he’d unstrapped his stick once more and was using it to propel himself forward.

Curse him, he was gaining on her.

They both struggled up the final incline to the summit.

Sweat poured off Brìghde’s brow now, trickling down between her shoulder blades. The wind was cool up here. It held a bite, but she welcomed the chill. She needed it.