Page 5 of The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds
“I told you that you didn’t order enough seed. The beans are slim this year.”
Sloan stopped in his tracks, grumbled to himself, then turned around to his father, ready to argue the point with him because he kept careful records and did frequent calculations to make sure all was well, but that was another thing his father believed he failed at. “Is your belly full, Da?”
“Aye, it’s full. But you should have ordered more.”
A voice called to them from the top of the hill. “A word with you, Chief, if you have the time.”
Sloan was more than happy to meet with the speaker, whomever it was. It meant he could get away from his sire. “Rinaldo, help Da up the hill. Miles, come with me.”
“I don’t need anyone’s help,” his father yelled, then dropped his voice and said, “Rinaldo, give me your arm so I can hang on to you.”
“I heard that, Da.” Sloan headed toward the castle, facing the opposite direction so his father couldn’t see his smile.
“Heard what? I didn’t say naught. You need to get your hearing checked, Sloan.”
Miles said, “You are a patient man, Chief.”
Sloan peered up ahead, then said, “Ramsay, what brings you here? Come,” he said, nearly at the top. “I’ll find a nice ale for you. I even have a new batch of our best amber liquid if you’d like a taste.”
Logan Ramsay smiled widely, something Sloan hadn’t seen often. “I’ll accept on the amber brew. My favorite. Let’s see how your barrel brew matches to others I’ve had. Who brews the finest on the isle?”
“It would have to be ours or MacVey’s. Thane hasn’t started to brew any yet, though his second, Artan, has been asking many questions about it.”
“I’ll have to test both a few times before I decide,” he said, waggling his brow.
“I’m sure you’ll find ours the best.”
The group of three headed toward the castle, Sloan leading the way. “When we reach the solar, give me your news quickly, Ramsay. My sire will be here as soon as he can, but some news is better not for his ears these days.”
“Turning daft, is he?” Logan asked.
Sloan said, “Not daft, but he’s become a true curmudgeon. He’s not going to like anything you say.”
Miles nearly snorted but held it in the best he could. “That’s a true understatement. Naught suits the old chieftain these days. He’s missing his Ailis.”
Sloan could only hope he’d find someone he’d miss as much as his father missed his mother. He’d had one attempt to marry, and it had gone terribly wrong. So wrong that he feared to even attempt a betrothal again, which made him wonder if he’d dared to approach Lennox about Eva. She’d seemed fine with him. Perhaps she would accept him after dealing with the cruel earl. He’d have to consider his timing. If so, he’d return to MacVey land and have a chat with Lennox about Eva.
Logan said nothing, probably thinking of his own wife, who he’d nearly lost recently. Doiron had saved her life, but not her leg. It had been difficult for them both to see the woman in that shape. But she was still with him.
“How does Gwyneth fare?” Sloan asked.
“Better now that she’s around her family. Eli is here, and our daughter Brigid is on her way. She and a few others have created a contraption to help Gwynie walk. Our niece Jennet is quite crafty, and her husband, Ethan, is just like her. I pray it works.”
They made it inside the solar and Sloan unlocked a cabinet, pulling out two goblets and his best brew, setting the three vessels on his desk. “None for you, Miles?”
“Nay, I’ll pass on the brew, Chief.”
Miles always did. As his second, he preferred to keep a level head during the day. He would only imbibe during the few big celebrations in the keep, something they didn’t do often enough. He should change that, especially now that it had been over a year since Sloan’s mother had passed on.
Sloan poured a draft and handed the goblet to Logan, who swirled it, sniffed it, and smiled before tasting it, rolling the amber liquid over his tongue to savor its taste. “A fine batch, Rankin. I thank you for it.”
“I’ll send some home with you.”
“I’d be pleased to accept.” Logan nodded, eased into a nearby chair, and took another sip.
“What news have you?”
Logan swallowed his brew and said, “You’re first.”
