by Karen Kelly
As their teacher gave tips for adding the lining to a kilt, Alice leaned over to quickly whisper to Annie and Peggy. “Brianna would be wonderful to have for a Hook and Needle Club event, don’t you think?”
“Yes!” Peggy whispered back, while Annie nodded zealously.
“I’ll ask her when the demo’s over,” Alice said, and then the three turned their full attention back to linings and waistbands. After a discussion on giving the kilt the finishing touches and some additional hints she had gathered over the years, Brianna wrapped up the demonstration.
She picked up a pile of stapled worksheets and began handing them out to the students. As she extended one toward Alice, Alice took the opportunity to ask, “Brianna, do you live in Maine?”
“Yes, I do,” the instructor answered. “I live near Bath.”
“We’re part of a needlecraft club in Stony Point, and we were wondering if you’d be interested in doing an extended session for us?” Alice went on to explain about Ian’s plan for a Robert Burns Dinner. “I think many people would be interested in learning how to make their own kilts, if the town board approves the mayor’s idea.”
Brianna put up a finger to ask for a minute and quickly handed out the rest of the worksheets, thanking each of the women for coming. Once the others had left the room, she returned to Alice and her friends.
“Stony Point, you said? That’s not too far. I’d love to help.” Brianna paused, thinking. “I’ve been toying with the idea of developing a needlecraft exchange. I could come help with kilt making or knitting, which is another love of mine, and your group could send someone to teach something to Bath’s crafting community. Do you think your club would be interested?”
The three women looked at one another, trying to think like Mary Beth. “The club’s leader is Mary Beth Brock, Annie said, “and while I can’t speak for her, this sounds like something she would love to do. May we have your contact information?”
Brianna plucked some business cards from a stack on the table and handed one each to the three adults, giving Annie an extra one. “I do travel to several Highland Games around the country, but I’m sure we can easily work around them. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from Mary Beth.”
“Thank you so much,” said Alice. “We really enjoyed your demo.” She turned to her friends. “We’d better hurry. The guys will be wondering where we are.”
They said their goodbyes to Brianna Kincaid and left the building, wondering what might come from the demonstration as they hurried to meet up with Ian and Wally.
13
“I hope Mary Beth likes the idea of the needlecraft exchange,” Peggy said as she took Emily’s hand.
Annie looked around her to make sure they were heading in the right direction for the athletic fields. “Can’t you just picture Kate being a hit in Bath, sharing her amazing crochet designs?”
“Absolutely.” Alice gave a quick nod. “And if the town board does approve the Robert Burns Dinner, I think we might increase our Hook and Needle Club membership with a kilt workshop.”
“Stella might find that disconcerting,” suggested Annie, “but I dare say she’d survive.”
Alice chuckled. “The real question is will the newcomers survive Stella?”
“If I can survive as a transplant,” Annie said, her smile turning into an outright laugh, “surely Stony Point natives will.”
“With a little help from the rest of us,” Peggy added. The sound of harp music diverted her attention. Looking around, she saw the source in a nearby building and pointed it out to the others. “Hey, I think we’ve found the harpers’ building.”
Emily snapped to attention at her mother’s words. “Harpers’? Eli talked about that, didn’t he, Mama?”
“Eli?” Alice asked.
“The fiddler without a kilt pin. I told you about him this morning,” Peggy reminded her.
“Oh, that’s right—the young lovebirds.” Alice shook her head. “It feels like you told us the story months ago, instead of just this morning.” The three women shared a rueful look amongst themselves.
“It’s probably too early to see Eli and Linley, but do you mind if we just pop in for a quick glance around?” Peggy said, appealing to the romantic side of her friends.
“As long as you promise to be the one to explain to Wally and Ian why we took so long to meet them,” answered Alice.
Annie added, “And we’ll be fast—right?” She quickened her pace toward the sound of harps. Her friends followed her, Emily skipping in excitement.
Inside the long building stood a platform at one end bathed in fluorescent light. Five large harps and two smaller ones—behind which sat three women, two men, and two younger players who looked to be just into their teens—graced the platform. The younger players were not playing the current melody, but sat still with their hands in their laps. Though their hands were still, their torsos swayed almost imperceptibly to the music.
“I’ve always loved harp music,” Annie whispered. “It sounds so otherworldly.” She slipped into a seat in the last row, her friends filing in behind her.
Emily settled in next to her mother and immediately began to look around the room for any sign of Eli and his love interest. Like daughter, like mother, the movement of Peggy’s head indicated she was doing the same thing.
After a few minutes, Emily leaned over to whisper, “I don’t see them. Do you, Mom?”
Peggy was staring at the front rows, craning her upper body for a better look. Her eyes widened, and she turned to the others. “I don’t see Eli and Linley either, Em. But I do see someone else.” Alice and Annie raised their eyebrows in question. “The singer from the lunch tent!” She gestured in the direction of her gaze. “See her?” Their eyes followed Peggy’s motion, and then they sat up a little straighter.
The tune finished with a gentle, lingering note, and the crowd appreciatively applauded. The woman harpist seated in the middle stood to introduce the next number, adding, “We are privileged to be accompanied for this next song by a woman with a voice of rare beauty. Please join me in welcoming McKenna Rose.”
Applause again rang out, and the singer with the flowing light green and lavender dress slipped from her seat and glided up to the platform. As one, the friends in the back row changed from sitting erect to slumping in their seats, trying to ensure the crowd hid them from view.
“Should we slip out?” Peggy hissed through her teeth.
Annie and Alice both shook their heads. Annie mouthed, “After the song.” The friends sat as still as they could while the chanteuse sang a haunting song of love and loss. Holding a long, tender note at the end of the song, McKenna Rose gave a regal bow to the harpists and then to the audience. Then, amidst the enthusiastic applause of the crowd, she once again slipped away through a back door.
As soon as the door closed behind the hem of the gossamer dress, Alice turned to her friends. “That woman has her disappearing act down just as well as her singing. I guess we don’t have to slip out, after all.”
“Do you suppose she saw us?” asked Peggy. “Here I thought we were doing such a good job slumping and all.”
Annie shrugged. “Who knows? She wasn’t staring at anyone like she did at the lunch tent.” She dug her notebook out of her bag. “The harpist called her McKenna Rose, right?” She froze, the realization just dawning.
“Rose!” The three women exclaimed in unison, but quietly, as the harpists had begun their next, and final, tune. Annie wrote the name in bold letters and underlined it. “You don’t suppose there is a connection between …?” Annie whispered to her friends. She drew a line from McKenna’s name to the falconer, Finley, floating a question mark beside it. “The hawk and rose design on the ferrules …?” she whispered again. She showed the page to Alice and Peggy, who nodded, curiosity glinting in their eyes.
Meanwhile, Emily’s eyes danced between the harpists’ graceful hands and the two entry points of the long room as she sat mesmerized by the music, ye
t ever vigilant in case Eli might show. When the music ended, the friends stood to applaud along with the rest of the audience. Though distracted by the mystery of the sporran and ferrules, they still appreciated the delicate artistry of the musicians.
As their applause subsided, Emily tugged on her mother’s arm. “Mom, can we stay a little longer? Eli might come, now that the music is done.” She turned the voltage of her pleading eyes up a notch.
Peggy looked at the watch on her wrist. “I’m not sure, Em.” Turning to her friends, she asked, “What do you two think? Can we spare a couple more minutes?”
Alice was the first to answer. “Well, it’s all right by me—I’m a sucker for young romance.” They all turned to look at Annie.
“Don’t look at me.” Annie put her hands up like she was about to be arrested. “I love romance too, young or old or anywhere in between.” She sat back down. “But let’s just stay a few more minutes, or we might push Wally and Ian beyond what they can handle!”
Peggy grinned and sat back down as well, freely watching as people milled around the room, talking to the musicians or with each other. “Can’t speak about Ian, but I’ve personally spent many years building Wally’s patience level. What’s the use of all my effort if I can’t rely on it once in a while?”
“Well, we are following their advice by staying together,” declared Alice. “What’s a few minutes here or there?”
“Mom!” Emily interrupted the women’s justification session with a whispered exclamation. “There’s Eli!” The women followed the girl’s line of vision and saw the slim fiddler hovering just inside the main entrance, scanning the people who lingered after the concert.
As they watched, the woman who had introduced McKenna hurried over to the young man, and they heard her say, “Eli! I’m so glad you’re here! You can start stacking up the chairs. Uncle just left to get the truck for loading.”
Eli nodded and began doing as his aunt had asked, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. As he folded each chair, his eyes darted to the two doors, and once he even placed the chair he was stacking off-center, causing it to slide off the stack with a clatter.
“Oh, that poor boy,” murmured Alice. “He’s got it bad!”
Emily giggled. “I told you they were all googly-eyed.”
Peggy took another look at her watch. “Googly-eyed or not, if Linley doesn’t show up really soon, we’re going to have to leave anyway,” she warned her daughter. A furtive movement by the door caught her attention. “Hey, just in the nick of time. There she is!”
Emily clapped her hands, as though applauding the lead actors of a Broadway play. Annie and Alice looked in Linley’s direction, trying not to be too obvious.
They could see that Eli was trying to play it cool, but he failed miserably. An ecstatic smile lit his face, and the chair under his hands collapsed to the floor as he rushed toward the entrance. His aunt looked up sharply at the noise, opening her mouth to correct her nephew. Realizing the cause of Eli’s distraction, she kept silent and turned back to her own work with a gentle smile on her lips.
Annie turned to her friends. “As much as I’d love to stay and watch love bloom, we really need to go.”
A guilty look crossed Peggy’s face. “I know; you’re right. At least we know Linley kept her promise to Eli. I hope we can come back next year and see if they’re still googly-eyed.”
The group slipped out of the building and into the flow of people using the door opposite of the one Linley had used. Annie barely heard the chime of her cellphone, alerting her of a new text message, over the din of the crowd. Digging it out of her bag, Annie unlocked her phone. The message read, “Is your demo done?”
“Hold up a minute,” Annie told her friends. “Ian’s asking if we’re done, and I can’t text and walk at the same time without it being gibberish.” She stepped closer to a nearby tent so as to not block traffic as she tapped in her response, the others following her.
“Ask him where we should meet,” said Alice. “They may have changed their minds about meeting at the beverage cart.”
Annie typed, “Yes. Still meet at drink vendor?” After sending the message there was hardly time for her to close the phone before the chime rang again. She read Ian’s response aloud. “No, come to athletic field A.”
Alice pulled out her brochure and located the field. Looking around to make sure of their position, she pointed in the direction from where they had just come. “It’s back that way, and at the main crossroads we need to turn right, and then left.”
“Lead on, Alice.” Peggy turned to her daughter and said, “Em, let me put Kyla’s shoes in my bag. It’s really chaotic here, and I’d feel better holding your hand. They’ll be safe in here.” She patted the large bag.
Emily was silent, the muscles of her face working. At last she nodded and handed her treasure to Peggy. Once the shoes were safely tucked away, she slipped her hand into her mother’s, and the group hurried toward the field.
Annie spoke, her fast pace adding some huff to the words, “Do you think Ian asked us to come because they have new information?”
“If they do, then we’ve all had a very productive afternoon,” answered Alice.
Peggy used her free hand to shove her bag more securely onto her shoulder. “Why else would they change our meeting place? Hey! Maybe they found someone in the Gunn or Rose family who’s willing to talk!”
“Now, that would be amazing,” Annie responded. “Though my mysteries rarely wrap themselves up quite so easily.”
Alice laughed. “She’s got a point, Peggy. But we can always hope.”
“Wait a minute!” Peggy exclaimed. “That’s too funny, especially since you and I were talking about classic rock music earlier, Annie.”
“What do you mean, Peg?” Annie asked.
“Don’t you get it?” Peggy laughed. “We’re looking for the Gunns and the Roses. Get it? Gunns and Roses—like the rock band, Guns N’ Roses!”
“Oh, good grief!” Alice interjected. She waved a hand at the intersection they were approaching. “This is where we turn right.”
The women followed her around the corner. “How far until we turn left?” Peggy asked Alice, still snickering.
Alice squinted at the map in the bright sunlight, and then shaded it with her free hand. “Looks like there’s an historic Highlands encampment where we need to turn. It’s after the tents thin out.” The ladies passed a Clan Campbell Society tent, and then a beer tent. As they continued on their way, the tents and small buildings were further apart, and the trees closer together.
“There’s the encampment!” Annie exclaimed, anxious to hear what Wally and Ian had discovered. Just ahead, in the shade of several lush trees, was a makeshift tent—tan canvas material stretched over six poles, with only the two middle posts tall enough for a man to stand upright underneath the covering. In the corner stood a barrel—used as a table—and a rocking chair was nearby.
Outside the tent several men were gathered in a variety of dress representing different periods of Scottish history and positions in society. A man in red regimental coat and a Black Watch tartan kilt stood ramrod straight, a pipe dangling beneath his blond-gray mustache. As the women passed, he removed the pipe and acknowledged them with a bow. Only the twinkle in his eyes gave a hint as to his personality.
The Stony Point friends all nodded to him, directing a quick smile his way. Emily was more interested in another Highlander in shades of khaki and moss green, standing at ease with an old rifle at his side. Though his clothing may have been considered boring by a young girl, his hat was the object of her attention.
“Mom, is that a beanie he’s wearing?” Emily had turned her face away from the man to ask.
Peggy nonchalantly ran her gaze over the entire encampment but made sure to get a look at the man her daughter indicated, especially the green hat festooned with a jaunty red feather. Then she bent close to answer, “It’s called a tam-o’-shanter.”
Emily grinned at the name. “That’s a funny name! Why’s it called that? I don’t think Daddy would wear a hat with such a silly name.”
“You’re right, Em,” Peggy said, chuckling. “He wouldn’t wear that any more than he’d wear a kilt without pants.” She paused to think about her daughter’s question. “Um, I don’t know why it’s called a tam-o’-shanter.” She turned to Alice and Annie. “Do either of you know?” she asked.
Annie shrugged and shook her head, but Alice’s face lit up. “I do, Em! Blame it on Robert Burns. More than two hundred years ago, he wrote a poem with a character named Tam. The hat’s named for the poem, Tam o’ Shanter.”
Emily considered the information Alice had just shared. Then she told them with a giggle, “If Mr. Mayor ever gets a border collie like Kyla’s family, he should name it Tam.”
“That’s a brilliant idea, Em!” Annie told her. “Tartan and Tam have a nice ring to them.” Seeing a pathway leading to the left, she turned to Alice. “Is this where we turn?”
Alice looked ahead of her to see if there were larger intersections close. Not seeing any, she answered, “This should be it. I guess the only way to find out is to take it and see where it leads.” They turned onto the pathway, which wandered between two copses, providing them with a cooler walk in the shade for a while.
Before long, the trees gave way to a wide expanse of fields, perfect for athletic competitions. The first cordoned area was marked “Field A” in thick red letters. “Here we are. Good signage sure helps,” Alice said as she started looking around for the men.
Peggy craned her neck to look over the spectators at the action on the field. Seeing a high horizontal pole set between two upright posts—like the ones used for pole vaulting—in the middle of the field, she smiled. “Looks like Wally got his wish about seeing some of the Sheaf Toss competition.”
