Page 49 of Steel & Surrender

It was hard going, and Greig limped heavily. He’d deliberately not brought a stick with him on this trip though. These days, he tried to manage without it.

By the time they reached the waterfront, his thigh muscles were loosening, and his limp had eased just a little.

“I hear ye still go riding with Brìghde Boyd every Sunday?” Davy said then, cutting him a sidelong look.

Greig frowned, irritated by the edge to his brother’s voice. He’d have thought tongues would have ceased flapping by now, especially after all these months.

“I’ll be climbing Ben More later this summer,” he reminded his brother, “and Brìghde has made the climb before.”

Davy cocked an eyebrow. “Spending time alone with the Forge Maiden, eh?” he teased. “Did ye know that Alistair was soft on her?”

Greig shook his head and looked away.

Guilt arrowed through him then. He’d never told Davy about the last thing on Alistair’s list.

Win the Forge Maiden’s heart.

And now was his chance. They could even have a laugh over it.

But something held his tongue.

He wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or the urge not to mock Brìghde, but he couldn’t do it.

“Aye, he had quite a thing for the lass,” Davy went on, not seeming to notice Greig’s muted reaction. “He’d be jealous of ye spending so much time with her.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Greig replied curtly. “We go walking, and that is all.”

“Don’t know what Al saw in her,” Davy went on, shaking his head ruefully. “She’s built like a man.”

“Aye,” Greig replied. “But she’s stronger than most of them too.”

Davy cocked an eyebrow at his subtle defense of the Forge Maiden, yet Greig pretended not to notice.

A year earlier, he’d have ridiculed their brother’s strange tastes too.

But he didn’t now.

Despite that Brìghde vexed him frequently, there was something about her he liked.

She was as dogged as him in many ways. Tough. And yet kind and gentle too. He’d been shocked when she insisted on massaging his leg last summer, yet that moment had changed things between them. It had sparked trust—one that had built into an unlikely friendship.

No, he couldn’t bring himself to mock her any longer, and he wouldn’t encourage Davy to do so either.

“Actually, Brìghde’s been helping me with my strength training too,” he admitted after a pause. “She’s got iron at her forge that I’m lifting … getting ready to put everyone to shame at the Games at the end of August.”

Davy snorted a laugh. “Really? Ye’re really taking this seriously, aren’t ye?”

“If ye’re going to do something, do it properly,” Greig replied. “Isn’t that what Da always says?”

Davy pulled a face. “Aye. And ye always hated it.”

“Aye … well, these days, I can see his point,” Greig said, his lips curving. “These things mattered to Al … so they matter to me too.”

Davy’s sharp-featured face relaxed slightly then, warmth lighting in his eyes. “Aye,” he said roughly, “and I’m glad.”

The Clam and Oyster’s pies were legendary.

Greig had last stopped here with Craeg and Ailean on their way to reach Andrew Murray, a few years earlier. It felt odd to walk into the inn again, in very different circumstances. There would be no more wars for Greig Maclean. Aye, his thigh was getting stronger, but he knew his limitations.