Victoria jabbed Logan in the bicep. “Hurry! His hands must be all but frozen.”
She was right. Nick could barely feel his hands.
“Hang on, old man.” Logan went prone at the edge, stretching down a long arm to reach him. He wrapped a massive hand around Nick’s wrist.
Knowing his brother held him in a secure grip, Nick let go of the rock and grabbed Logan’s wrist in his right hand. He gazed up into blue eyes that were a reflection of his own, fighting off a torrent of conflicting emotions. “Just get on with it.”
“Ungrateful bastard,” Logan muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. “Miss Knight, as delightful as you feel lying across my arse, it’s not necessary. I assure you I won’t fall or drop him.”
“I amnotlying across your backside,” she said. “I’m simply holding your legs.”
“Victoria, please do what he says,” Nick snapped. He’d had quite enough of this bloody hillside.
His brother gave a mighty heave, hauling Nick close enough to the edge for him to throw his leg up and over. He let go of Logan’s arm and rolled onto the path, panting heavily as he stared up at the dusky sky.
Two faces inserted themselves into his line of vision.
“Are you all right?” Victoria asked breathlessly.
“Never better.” Nick sat up and eyed his brother, who’d stepped back and was now regarding him with a wary expression. “Logan, why are you here?”
“I’m staying at the crofter’s cottage.”
Victoria frowned. “Why aren’t you at the inn at Arrochar, or even in Glasgow?”
“Because old Tommy is a friend. And because I have no intention of leaving Kinglas until I get what I came for,” Logan said, a touch defiantly. “Anyway, I heard the commotion and came up to have a look. Then I heard you shriek, Miss Knight.”
“You saw the avalanche?” she asked.
“We heard the bagpipes,” he said dryly. “I knew that meant Angus was up to something.”
“You could tell it was him?” Victoria asked while she yanked on Nick’s collar.
She was obviously trying to help him stand, but was half strangling him instead. Still, having her fuss over him was a welcome change, even if he’d almost killed himself in the process.
“I would recognize the sound of my grandfather’s bagpipes anywhere,” Logan said. “There’s nothing like it.”
“He is rather dreadful, isn’t he?”
“Rather.” Logan flashed her one of his charming smiles. When Victoria smiled back, Nick felt like planting a facer on his brother’s nose.
“What’s the old fellow up to, anyway?” he asked.
“It’s none of your concern,” Nick said. “I told you to leave Arnprior lands weeks ago.”
His brother stared at him in disbelief. “And I told you I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”
Nick began whacking grit and ice from his greatcoat. “My forgiveness? Good luck with that.”
“Dammit to hell, Nick. I just saved your sodding life.”
“I didn’t need you to savemylife. I needed you to save my son’s life. Instead, you let him die.”
The words surfaced from a grim place where all the ugly, sorrowful events of the past still held sway. For a while, the darkness had retreated under Victoria’s shining light. But now that light was probably lost to him.
“You’ll never forgive me, will you? No matter what I do.” Logan’s voice was taut with bitterness.
Nick didn’t really want to hate his brother—in fact, hating Logan was exhausting. But he kept facing that big, black wall, one that always shifted and transformed into Cameron’s polished coffin. All his grief and rage condensed into that single, heartbreaking shape.
