Page 23 of Steel & Surrender

He’d been in a pensive mood, emotions close to the surface.

However, he sorely regretted telling her about the list now. The woman had just offered to go hill walking with him, for pity’s sake.

And yet, despite himself, he found he didn’t entirely dislike the thought. That unsettled him.

An awkward silence followed before he spoke. “I don’t need a guide.”

The words emerged sharper than he intended.

She cut him an arch look that made it clear she disagreed with him.

He cleared his throat. “Surely, ye are too busy for that, anyway? Aren’t ye chained to the forge day and night?”

Her grey eyes glinted before she shrugged. “Even the Forge Maiden takes the Sabbath off. I always go hill walking on Sundays. I like the fresh air and peace … it reminds me that there is more to life than hammering steel.”

Another awkward pause followed.

Neither looked directly at the other for a moment. Greig found himself watching the road ahead while she fussed unnecessarily with the lead rope in her hands.

Eventually, Greig glanced her way. Out here in daylight, she looked different, younger. The lass was possibly the same age as him, or maybe a year or two younger. He noticed details about her face he hadn’t before, like the small mole above her top lip and the little gap between her two front teeth.

She wasn’t a beauty, yet there was something pleasing about her features.

Pleasing? What the devil is wrong with ye today?

“Forget I made the offer,” she said then, waving her left hand as if she wished she could pull her words back.

Suddenly, Greig felt like an arse.

He’d forgotten his manners more than once in this woman’s company. She didn’t deserve such treatment.

“All right, Boyd,” he replied tersely. “I shall take ye up on it.”

She shot him a surprised look, as if she’d been sure he would refuse.

“Good,” she murmured after a few moments, her lips stretching into a smile that revealed the gap between her two front teeth once more. “I shall meet ye outside the castle walls after the morning Mass this Sunday. We’ll walk the foothills of Beinn Talaidh.”

Breathing hard, his body slicked with sweat, Greig pulled Tàirneanach up.

The wind howled around them, storm clouds boiling in from the north, but he paid little attention to them.

Tàirneanach’s sides were heaving, the gelding blowing hard through his nostrils.

“Well done, lad,” Greig panted, leaning forward and stroking the horse’s sweat-slicked neck. “Ye did well. We made it.”

And they had. He’d completed a task on Alistair’s list.

To ride non-stop across Mull, from Duart to The Western Cliffs.

Horse and rider stood just yards from where black cliffs plunged into the churning sea.

The water stretched beyond, whitecaps foaming, surf pounding against rocks. Gulls shrieked and wheeled above.

And despite everything that had happened of late, every hardship and loss, Greig grinned.

Suddenly, it felt as if Alistair were with him right now, sitting behind him, enjoying this moment.

“That wasn’t so hard, brother,” he murmured. “Was it?”