be hurt.’
Dougal overheard the remark, for he retorted to Nairna, ‘I’m not a boy.’
‘Aye, you are,’ Alex interrupted. He beckoned to Dougal, ‘Have you no welcome for your eldest brother?’
A shadow of resentment darkened the lad’s face. ‘I don’t even know him. Why should I welcome him?’ With that, he picked up another chair, smashing it against the stone. Holding a chair leg in his hand, he went after Ross. ‘Come back and fight me, old man!’
Bram watched the pair, not letting any expression cross his face. Dougal’s defiance shouldn’t have surprised him. They’d hardly known each other, and it had been so long, he supposed it was to be expected that his youngest brother wouldn’t remember him.
When Bram was twelve, Dougal had followed him everywhere. The young boy had tried to take Bram’s weapons, dragging a bench across the room to climb up and reach the blades he wasn’t supposed to touch. It bothered him to think that the boy who had once attached himself to Bram’s leg was now indifferent.
Alex lowered his voice. ‘Dougal’s getting worse every day. Thinks he can fight the English.’ Shaking his head, he directed to Nairna, ‘At least when he fights with Ross, he won’t be hurt. Well, aside from a few bruises and scrapes.’
Bram stared at their youngest brother. The skin upon Dougal’s arms was reddened, while blood trickled from his nose. The lad fought with pure aggression, letting his rage dictate his actions. He swung his fists without thinking, his long arms and legs clumsy.
Bram watched his brother fighting, feeling a sense of unease. Was that how his father had viewed him? Had he been like Dougal, struggling to prove himself? For a moment, he imagined himself in his father’s place, fighting to protect his son. If he ever had a son of his own, he hoped he could train the boy to keep a calm head.
Anger and aggression only caused clumsiness. It was better to lock away all emotions, concentrating on bringing down the enemy. He’d managed to gain his freedom by numbing himself to everything but his goal. And though he’d had to live with the guilt of leaving Callum behind, it was the only way to save them both.
A moment later, Ross tripped the lad, twisting Dougal’s arms behind his back and shoving him against the floor. ‘You’re finished, lad. The English would have slit your throat, just like that.’
Nairna was trying hard not to look, but her face grew worried. Bram moved up behind her and started to rest his hands on her shoulders before he thought better of it. Instead, he lowered them to his sides and bent closer to her ear. ‘Are you hungry? Shall I see about food before we retire for the night?’
She turned around, her clear green eyes meeting his face. ‘Only if you try to eat.’
‘I’ll eat,’ he agreed. But he couldn’t resist grazing his hand against her cheek. She reddened and touched her face, shivering slightly.
Dougal stalked away after Ross released him, his tight anger evident within his posture. He’d been humiliated before everyone and no doubt he’d want to sulk in private. Though Bram wanted to talk to him, he understood that it wasn’t a good time.
When Ross came forwards, his smile was so broad, it nearly split his face. ‘Bram!’ He gripped him in a hug so tight, it nearly crushed his lungs.
The older man released him, pounding him on the back. ‘By God, it’s a miracle t’see you again.’ With a gleam in his eye, he prompted, ‘Alex, we’ll be needing a few barrels to celebrate.’ Then his gaze fell upon Nairna. ‘And you’ve brought your lass home again.’ His smile turned teasing. ‘After seven years, we all know what you’ll be doin’ tonight.’ A loud laugh erupted from the old man. ‘Next summer, I suppose we’ll be celebrating the birth of a bairn! ‘
There were resounding cheers from the other men, but Bram didn’t miss the pain upon Nairna’s face, though she tried to smile.
‘Did you find Laren?’ Alex asked Nairna, but she shook her head.
‘She returned with your daughters and is preparing them for bed,’ Ross interrupted. ‘I imagine she’ll be here soon enough.’
Frustration lined Alex’s face as he gave a brief nod. But Nairna intervened, saying, ‘Don’t trouble yourself if she’s busy with the children. I’ll be glad to meet her in the morning.’
Alex gave a nod, but Bram saw the way his eyes drifted above stairs. There was something unreadable in his brother’s expression, almost a sense of regret, before Alex turned back to them.
‘Where is the mead?’ Ross reminded the chief. ‘We should drink to Bram’s return!’
Alex managed a smile and gave the order. ‘We’ll drink tonight,’ he proclaimed, ‘and tomorrow, we’ll have a feast.’
Though Bram understood that his brother was trying to welcome him back, the last thing he wanted was to be the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d survived captivity and come home. It was enough.
‘For now, I want to find a place for Nairna and I to sleep,’ Bram responded. They needed shelter, and from the look of the keep, there wasn’t much room. He didn’t want his wife sleeping on the earthen floor amid the stench of rushes. He wanted privacy from everyone else, a place where they could retreat in solitude.
‘I’ll find something,’ Alex agreed.
As more and more people joined them within the keep, the noise level rose higher and the mead flowed. So many of his clansmen came to welcome him, asking questions, until Bram found himself having to repeat himself time and again.
The crowds made him agitated, with so many people he hadn’t seen in years. Though he tried to manage it, speaking to each one, he felt himself growing more weary and less interested in food.
‘Here y’are, lad,’ came a voice from behind. Ross sloshed a cup of mead into his hand. ‘A long, hard drink is what you’re needing.’
Some of the men snorted and another called out, ‘It’s not the only thing that’ll be long and hard tonight! ‘
Nairna’s mouth opened in shocked surprise and she quickly looked at the ground as if she were searching for an escape.
Bram took the drink and eyed the men. ‘Go. Away.’
Ross raised a toast and drained his mug, laughing with the others. To their credit, they left him alone with Nairna.
Right now, his mood was balanced on a razor’s edge. He needed to escape the crowds, to gather up the pieces of his sanity. Nairna offered him food, but he only picked at it.
‘You’d better eat more than that, MacKinloch,’ she ordered him. ‘You need to get your strength back.’
‘And what will I be needing the strength for, a ghaoil?’ he asked, taking her fingertips.
Her face coloured and she held out a bite of fish, offering it to him. When she pushed the bite of food into his mouth, her thumb brushed against his lip.
The soft touch brought him into a deeper awareness of her. He ignored the clan members gathering and the sounds of their conversation grew muted. He looked into Nairna’s
