Chapter 4
“This is humiliating,”Brodie growled, shifting his weight to his bad leg in order to push the heel further into the boot. “And painful.”
“Och, stop yer whining,” his laird—and friend—said flippantly from where he crouched at Brodie’s feet. “Ye’re almost in.”
When he felt the leather conform to his ankle, Brodie muttered a thankful curse, and Kenneth slapped his calf as he stood.
“There. ‘Twasnae so bad, eh?”
Glaring, Brodie shoved his crutch under his arm. “I should’ve fallen over on top of ye. ‘Twould serve ye right for meddling.”
Kenneth McClure was older by about a decade, his dark hair already going silver at the temples. But when he smiled—and he was doing a lot more of that lately, since he’d fallen in love with Leanna Oliphant—it was harder to remember he was the same fearless warrior Brodie had followed into danger more times than either could remember.
Particularly when he nagged Brodie into doing something stupid.
As the older man led the way out of the sick room—where he’d browbeaten Brodie into struggling into his boots—Kenneth called over his shoulder, “I’m no’ meddling. Just…making ye presentable for guests.”
Brodie had met Fen in the kitchens again that morning, and together, they’d collected the dawn catch from Pherson, the clan’s falconer. The man was quiet and watchful, but not the way Brodie usually was. Brodie had the impression the falconer was skittish, waiting to be attacked, and decided he didn’t trust Pherson. Still, the falcons had taken down a double brace of rabbits, which would fill quite a few bellies.
Shortly after, the pair had received word of a group of MacBains requesting hospitality. Since their laird was with them, Oliphant Castle was all in a tizzy preparing for the visitors. Brodie himself had made the bread which would be served at the banquet for the guests, he just hadn’t expected to actually join them.
Kenneth had showed up shortly after, slung Brodie’s boots at his head, and demanded Brodie struggle into them. And now, he was still defending himself.
“Accepting help isnae humiliating. Would ye think it humiliating if ye’d instead had help from another?”
“Like who?” grumbled Brodie as they approached the stairs. He craned his head to look for Fen in the kitchens, but since the meal was already prepared, most of the workers had moved on to other duties.
“Like a lass. A helpful lass who cared about ye and wanted to protect…yer feet.” Kenneth added with a wink.
“Milord, if I had a helpful lass kneeling in front of me, I wouldnae be expecting her to bother with my feet.”
Kenneth stopped, one foot on a higher step, and burst into laughter. Brodie had to admit he was pleased the other man had found so much joy here at Oliphant Castle, but something inside him felt strange about it as well.
Ye’re jealous.
He was honest enough to admit that, aye, mayhap he was.
Pushing aside the acknowledgement, he scowled up at the twisting, dangerous stairs leading from the kitchens up to the main hall. “First the boots, now this torture? Ye expect me to stump my way up this obstacle course? For what?”
“To meet our guests. Ye do ken we have guests?” Kenneth trotted back down the steps. “Would it help if I got behind ye and pushed?”
Brodie’s eyes narrowed. “Where would ye be pushing?”
“Yer arse of course.”
“God’s teeth, Kenneth, just keep yer own arse and eyes in front of me, eh?”
Chuckling, Kenneth turned his attention back to the climb, although he took the steps at a much slower pace than normal, Brodie was certain, in order to accommodate the crutch.
Conquering each stair was an accomplishment: pushing with the crutch and pulling with his grip on the stones of the wall… But having to keep his left knee straight, unable to hold any weight, was the real pain in the arse.
At least ye’re moving, eh?
Aye, slow climbing was better than no climbing.
“This is—”
Before he could grumble further, Kenneth interrupted him. “Necessary, Brodie. I need ye.”