Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

The late fall sun beat down over the large expanse of glen. Normally, it stretched green and wild forever, and now it was dotted with tents and far too many faces Gabriel hadn’t seen in years.

“What’s McQuarrie doing there?” Gabriel asked over the bagpipes.

“Who?”

Archie shoved an elbow into Finn, pointing to the man talking with a few of the neighboring clans at their tents.

“Bugger willna take nae for an answer.”

Finn turned his attention back to Elsie, who clapped as Lorna and Maisie bounced around in a circle, and Kate tucked a piece of heather into the brooch his sister had lent her.

“Ye best be leavin’ her alone, Finn.”

“Who?”

Archie laughed, slapping his hand onto Finn’s shoulder. “She left for a reason, Finn. Dinna think she wishes even to breathe the air ye do.”

“Dinna I know it.”

Gabriel studied McQuarrie holding court. He didn’t like that one bit. Nor did he like Finn pining after his sister when it had gone horribly wrong the first time. And he didn’t like how far Kate was away from him.

Might as well have been across the glen.

“Marry Katie, will ye?” Archie snapped. “Ye walk around with love stuck on yer face, and it makes my stomach sour.”

Finn only groaned.

“It’s no’ Katie,” Gabriel mumbled. He wasn’t nearly in such a wicked mood this morning, remembering the smile on her face as he flirted and tossed her over his shoulder. But the day was long, and it would prove a longer night at the inn, where some local musicians had agreed to a ceilidh. He had spent a lot of the day so far talking to clan members he hadn’t seen in years, answering their questions about Tavish or assisting with any of the games or dancing planned.

And he hadn’t spent nearly any of the day with Kate.

He wished to show her why he considered Scotland, not Paris, his home.

When he was younger, Gabriel looked forward to the Harvest Festival. It had always been a smaller celebration than the Games but fun, nevertheless. He would run wild over this glen with the rest of the boys and cheer on those participating in the stone put and hammer toss.

The year he had turned twelve, he had practiced the stone put outside Dunsmuir, convinced he’d be allowed to join in on the fun. Except, the stone slipped and went through one of his mother’s favorite stained-glass windows in the dining room, and he had been forbidden to attend.

When Tavish had returned later that evening, he had spun a grand tale about winning the stone put, teasing Gabriel all the way. Gabriel had launched himself at his brother, outraged and betrayed, punching him in the eye until old Mr. Malcolm was forced to separate the two boys.

“It’s no’ Katie,” Archie mimicked. “I dinna ken what the matter is with ye both. But I spy a lot of young lasses here.” He brushed back the curly red hair atop his head, flashing a bright grin at a passing group of young women. “And I plan to have fun. ”

“Go on then.” Finn shoved his cousin toward the retreating group of women, but Archie paled, digging his heels into the soft, rich earth.

“Hmm, where’s that Wallace confidence now?” Gabriel teased.

“Ye’re one to talk when ye canna even…”

Archie’s voice trailed off as Duncan laughed and slapped his meaty hand over Gavin Dunmore’s shoulder. Dunmore, near forty, had been mates with Tavish, too. And for a time, he had helped run whisky after Gabriel left Scotland.

The man’s intentions were usually as good as the color of his short, cropped hair—raven black. Which accounted for the whisky that had gone missing, thanks to his so-called help.

Tavish and Finn hadn’t noticed him stealing for almost a year before Archie had quite literally stumbled upon him undercutting the pair.

“I dinna like this.” Gabriel clenched his fists, watching.

Finn muttered under his breath.

“What?” Gabriel asked.

“I dinna think we should challenge him,” Finn said, stealing another glance at Elsie. “He’ll ruin us for good.”

Ruin wasn’t an option. And Gabriel wasn’t about to let McQuarrie intimidate him so the man could get his way and make more profits. The whisky business was fierce, but the demand wasn’t limited. There was room for the both of them to operate how they wished.

“Archie, keep an eye on him, aye? Tell me who he’s talkin’ to today.”

“Where are ye going?” Archie asked.

“I’ll give ye one guess,” Finn said. “Ye ken, maybe focus on McQuarrie today, and keep yer head on straight…”

Gabriel had had the same thought.

Momentarily.

That was before he had thrown Kate over his shoulder earlier that morning and decided he’d marry her.

He had a caber toss to win.

Gabriel had spent far too much time as of late being a hypocrite, telling Katie he’d be respectable and then… Well, doing what they did la st night wasn’t exactly respectable. He didn’t wish to hurt her, and he was done being afraid.

He’d see her as his wife, yet.

They had worked together to sort out the rest, and he would have to believe the same with McQuarrie. Once the man realized Gabriel wouldn’t concede and proceed with his plans to expand and legitimize the distillery, the two men could work out their disagreement. But Gabriel would never stop his plans only to appease McQuarrie.

Kate glanced over at him from her spot on the hill. A soft breeze moved through her curls, and she brushed them back, her cheeks pink from the chill. And like a man possessed, he felt himself drawn to her, needing to be near her.

The madness of if it made no sense, but love apparently wasn’t logical.

And he loved her.

“What are ye three up to now?” Elsie asked as he approached. “I suspect trouble.”

Lorna and Maisie chased each other in circles, both wearing a crown of pink and blue ribbons.

“Dinna ken what ye’re talkin’ about, Sister,” he answered Elsie, but his focus was solely only Kate and the way the sun kissed the freckles dotting her cheeks.

“Ye’re takin’ a long time to call the start of the caber toss,” Elsie teased.

“Nerves,” Kate said, nodding definitively.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are ye teasing me, lass?”

She shrugged, her gray eyes dancing with mirth.

That was to be the way of it, then?

What he wished to do more than anything was to draw her up to him and kiss her, to let the perfect Scottish day wash over them, and not hide his love for her.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Would ye care to take a walk, Kate? I can show ye around.”

“Show her around? I need a hand pie, Uncle.” Maisie pulled at his kilt, her determined brow drawn low. “I’ve been askin’ for hours. I willna make it much longer… hand pie.”

“We havena been here for hours,” Elsie countered. “The day’s only begun. Let’s find some hand pies and leave yer uncle alone to contemplate his loss.”

“I willna lose.”

His sister glared at him. “If ye said what ye meant this morning to Katie here, then ye best no’. I dinna think she’ll be persuaded otherwise.”

Kate only adjusted her brooch, ignoring the pair as if she weren’t keenly listening. But he saw the blush on her cheeks.

“I would love for you to show me around,” she said finally, peeking up at him. The softest smile hinted at her lips. “Maisie and Lorna, I hope you enjoy your hand pies.”

“Nae runnin’ off now, Brother,” Elsie warned, wagging her finger. “Ye’re to be gentleman-like.”

But he knew the truth. He knew Kate liked it best when he wasn’t a complete gentleman.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Kate huffed, grabbing his hand. “I am right here. Find something else to bicker over.”

“We’re to find hand pies,” Maisie called out after them. “Load of ‘em!”

He chuckled along with Kate as they finally broke apart from the rest of the family. He quickly scanned the crowd for McQuarrie, or Archie and Finn, but couldn’t find them.

“Is there anything the matter?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Only that I wish to kiss ye, and I canna.”

She halted, dragging him to a stop. “Do you?”

He peered down at her. “When I wake in the morning,” he said quietly, “ye’re the first thing I think about. And I canna find the end of it. It’s like a string, following me around all day until I can touch ye, kiss ye… be with ye, Kate.”

Kate’s eyes slanted, heavy with desire as she slowly grazed her thumb back and forth over the back of his, matching the steady drumming beat of his heart in his ears .

“That was a kind thing for you to say, Gabe.”

“Nae, no’ kind. It’s the damn truth.”

“And you don’t wish it to be?”

“Doesna much matter now. It’s too late.”

“For what?”

“Gabriel MacInnes!” bellowed James MacCreary through the crowd. “Realized it was time to come home, I see.”

The man’s silver hair stood on end, deep laugh lines carved into his square-set face. Gabriel had learned to track stags from James, spending many an afternoon at the MacCreary cottage as he grew after his father passed.

“It’s about time,” Mrs. MacCreary called out, stepping out from behind her husband.

Kate dropped his hand and moved aside, the loss of her touch stinging.

Mrs. MacCreary, round and petite, threw her arms around Gabriel. “All this time and no’ a letter.”

“I wrote only this spring.”

“No’ enough, lad.” James crossed his arms, glancing between Gabriel and Kate. “When we didna hear back from ye about Tavish…”

“Allow me to introduce Miss Katherine Bancroft.”

“Are ye two…” Mrs. MacCreary asked, clutching her hands together as if she were about to squeal.

“I am helping with the inn, ma’am.”

Gabriel didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in the woman’s green eyes.

“Ye’ll need to see it. She’s done a grand job helping me open in time for the festival. There was a lot of damage from the fire.”

“Yes, please come by this evening. There’ll be plenty of live music and food.”

The bagpipes began again, and the crowd was mulling about, growing restless. It had been nearly an hour after the hill race.

“We will be there, no doubt. It’s lovely to see ye again, Gabriel. We’re glad ye’re home here with us, and the girls now, too.”

“And Elsie,” Gabriel added .

Mrs. MacCreary grinned. “It has been far too long since I laid eyes on Elsie, sneaking off to Edinburugh like she did. I must find her.”

“Find the hand pies,” Kate said with a laugh. “Little Maisie was on a mission.”

“Verra well,” James said. He offered his arm to his wife, and she hooked her hand through, not so subtly peeking between Gabriel and Kate once more.

Kate stood off to the side, a smile on her face, clutching her hands in front of her. But Gabriel could tell she was nervous.

Once the MacCrearys left, he reached for her hand again, but she threw it off. “Not here,” she hissed. “Too many people will see.”

“I dinna care if they see, Kate.”

“I do.”

He despised London, now even more so for what it had done to her. He couldn’t fix what had happened, but he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt any longer.

“Come with me then, lass.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s high time for the caber toss.”

Her hand shot to her throat, tracing the hollow as if she remembered how he had traced his lips over her only hours earlier in such a careful promise.

They weaved their way through the crowd until Gabriel stood on the small make-shift stage Archie had built earlier that week for the dancers.

“Och, it’s time for the next event,” he hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. “If ye’re wantin’ to join the caber toss, meet in five minutes just beyond the tents.”

A jolt ran through his body as he nodded for Kate to follow. If she was afraid to be with him, then he would marry her, and there would be nothing left to fear. He wouldn’t waste another day if it meant she needed to be his wife.

They both made their way to the others, a large circle already gathered to participate. Gabriel examined the crowd, waving to Lorna and Maisie as Elsie danced around with hand pies, tossing her head back to laugh.

He had missed his sister. She had always been the peacemaker between the two brothers.

“Stand over here,” he advised Kate, moving her to the side. “And after, we can dance if ye’d like.”

“Dance?” She laughed. “Have you hit your head this morning?”

“Might as well have,” he said, his voice whisper soft. “I’m mad for ye, Kate.”

“You can’t expect me to marry you if you win.”

“Why no’?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You are so stubborn.”

“No’ as much as ye are. I’m no’ going anywhere, Katherine Bancroft, but I’m a busy man. When I win today, marry me. Then ye can kiss me anytime ye wish.”

Kate pursed her lips, laughing again. “I think I like it better when you growl. I’m not sure how to respond when you’re so charming.”

“MacInnes!” someone shouted from the crowd. “Come on, now. Leave the lass alone, and let’s see if ye still have what it takes to win.”

Laughter rippled around him, and he would have laughed if he didn’t feel a gnawing panic in his chest. Time.

He hadn’t the time, and now that he had made up his mind, he needed her to be his wife.

“Good luck, Gabe,” she said quietly.

Gabriel winked at her, then turned, throwing his arms up into the air to excite the crowd.

“Go on,” Archie called from the crowd. “Dinna think ye can even lift it. Ye’ve gone soft since leavin’ Scotland.”

With a careful step, Gabriel appraised the caber, then planted his feet firmly in the ground. Fergus Campbell lifted one end, then slowly walked the caber up to Gabriel. He studied the length, then met Fergus’s grin.

“No’ a wee one.”

“Nae,” Gabriel agreed, resting the weight of the log against his shoulder, and Fergus stepped away .

He blew out a steadying breath, still uncertain if he had the balance right until he bent forward and quickly worked his fingers down the smoother surface of the caber to hoist it up. He squeezed his hands together, popping the caber off the ground, and lifting.

Gabriel grunted, feeling a sharp burn radiate through his arms as he struggled to keep the balance centered. If it leaned too far back or too far forward, he’d lose the caber.

With no time to spare, he raced forward and popped the caber up into the air by throwing his arms into the air. He stood there, panting, his hands burning and his heart drumming in his ear as the caber landed end over end, nearly striking twelve.

Nearly.

Almost perfect.

He heard the girls cheer, then looked to Kate, who stood frozen, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

The crowd parted. “I’m here to toss the caber,” McQuarrie loudly announced.

“Go on,” Fergus announced. “Good toss, MacInnes. McQuarrie, ye’ve won for the past three years at the Games but that toss?—”

“I’m no’ losing to MacInnes.”