Page 21 of Lost with a Scot
“What is so amusing?” Brodie crossed his arms, which only deepen the similarity between him and Brock.
“Ye’ve turned into a mother hen, just like Brock. ‘Ack, laddie, ye’d better marry that woman if’n ye ken what’s good for ye,’” he mimicked in a bossy, motherly voice.
“Ye take that back.” Brodie grabbed Aiden’s shirtfront, and Aiden responded in kind. Moments later, the pair were scuffling like boys, both struggling to get an arm around the other’s neck. They tossed each other against the sides of the stalls as they tussled.
“Oi! Leave my friend alone!” The small cry came from the loft above. Brodie yelped and fell back onto a pile of hay as the little stable lad leaped on his back and started punching him.
“Easy, laddie, ’tis only my brother,” Aiden said with a chuckle as he pulled the lad off Brodie.
Brodie arched a brow as he sat up. “Have an army of wee bairns fighting yer battles now?”
“I’m no bairn!” the little boy growled at Brodie.
“An army? It was just one lad,” Aiden argued.
“He fought with the strength of twelve lads,” Brodie grumbled.
Aiden ignored the remark and set the boy on his feet. “What’s yer name?”
The boy beamed at Aiden with pride. “Cameron MacLeod.”
Brodie climbed to his feet and smacked his trousers to rid them of hay and dust. “Christ, he’s a bloody MacLeod.”
“Well, Cameron, how are Thundir and Bob doing?” Aiden asked.
“Who the devil is Bob?” Brodie asked.
“Our mare,” Cameron announced.
“Our mare?” Brodie mouthed the words to Aiden over the top of the boy’s head.
“Aye, I brought her from an ill-tempered oaf who, after laming the poor beast and selling her to me, then tried to sell her to the butcher. I reminded him that the sale to me was valid and he could sod off. So Cameron and I are taking care of her.”
“Dinna tell me ye’ve adopted the boy too? We have enough bloody orphans running about the castle.”
Aiden put his hands on his hips and studied the child thoughtfully. “Yer not an orphan, are ye, lad?”
“No, but I wish I was. My pa isna a nice man,” the lad grumbled and glanced at the ground.
“And yer mother?”
“She died when I was born,” Cameron said. “Pa said I was the one who killed her.”
Brodie looked at Aiden with clear regret for bringing up the subject.
“Does yer father hit ye?” Aiden asked in a low tone. The boy’s reluctance to answer was answer enough.
“Cameron, we’ll be leaving tomorrow—”
“So soon?” The child’s eyes filled with tears, and he brushed them away.
“Aye, but if ye want to come with us, ye can. I could use a spare set of hands to tend to Bob while I take care of Miss Anna.”
Cameron wiped his eyes and raised his chin. “I’d like to, but my pa won’t let me.”
“We’ll handle him,” Brodie said flatly.
“Where is yer father?” Aiden asked.
