Highland Harmony: Avelina and Drew (Clan Grant Series Book 8) Read Free

his name. His sire.
    “Get up, you lazy swine. Can you not spend one night away from the ale? You need to direct the men in the lists.”
    Hellfire, but the last thing he needed right now was to go out to the lists. He heard his friend Boyd try to reason with his father. “Word is he was heaving all over last eve.”
    “Boyd, if the fool drank that much, then he needs to get up off his arse and work the ale off. He’s supposed to be out there with the guards. ‘Tis his job to lead the men and your job to assist him.”
    “Aye, but I can handle them today, my laird. ‘Tis a challenge for me, and I welcome it.”
    Drew swung his legs over the side of the bed, waited until the room stopped spinning, then threw his plaid on over his tunic and breeches. Weaving a bit on his feet, he finally made it over and stood facing his sire. “I’m coming.” If he didn’t go now, his father would continue throwing insults at him until his head exploded.
    “Get your lazy arse out there. You need to work as they do if you plan to lead again one day.”
    Drew pushed past his father and out into the passageway, nodding to Boyd as he moved past him. Drew was accustomed to his father’s harsh demeanor at this point in his life. He just wished he had a better way about him, especially when he was around Boyd. Drew could ignore his father’s rants, but he feared someday Boyd would move on to another castle. With no family left, he had naught to hold him here, but Drew would be devastated if he ever chose to leave.
    As soon as he headed down the stairs of the keep, his father’s usual tirade picked up again behind him. “If you ever wish to become something other than a drunk, you must be a hard worker. You should be out there ahead of our guards.”
    Rather than argue, Drew stayed silent as he strode through the bailey. He’d tried so many different ways to make his sire proud of him, but it had never happened. When his sire had taken ill, Drew had taken over, working the guards in the list and leading them when the neighboring Lochluin Abbey had been attacked. His father had not once praised him for the brave way he’d fought to protect their land and Aedan’s in the recent skirmishes that had broken out across the Highlands. Even though he’d suffered no injuries and lost no men, his father had told him he needed to improve. In truth, it was hopeless. He could never live up to his brothers’ memories.
    He strode straight for the stables.
    “Drew, it’s so good to see you this morn.” He blew a kiss to the fair lass near the buttery, but did not slow his stride. Boyd had fallen in behind him, he noticed, and he gave his friend a nod and a smile—or as close to one as he could manage. When he passed the armorer, who was struggling to move a heavy piece of metal, he swung inside to lend a hand.
    “Drew, no need to help. I’ll get my son to assist me.” The man in the armory was already panting from his attempts to move the heavy load.
    “I’ll not walk away. Boyd can help us.” Boyd ran over and the three men lifted the metal and moved it to the large table in the back.
    The armorer stood and smiled at Drew. “Many thanks. Would have taken us a wee bit to do it ourselves.”
    After trading more pleasantries, Drew and Boyd continued down the path. A lass carrying a loaf of fresh bread hurried after them. “My mama sends this for helping her the other day.” She blushed and giggled after Drew accepted the loaf from her with a wink. He tore it in half to share with Boyd.
    Almost to the portcullis, Drew heard the smithy yelling at the horse he was shoeing. “Ye olde beast, stop your snorting and hold still.”
    Drew hurried over to the old warhorse and helped calm him, talking sweetly to him and feeding him a part of his bread. The animal quieted enough for the smithy to finish his work. When the older man pulled out the stone lodged in the horse’s hoof, he held it up for Drew to see. “He had a reason to be a mite