Page 78 of Highland Storm

“Ye are obsessed with that lass for some reason,” said Hawke.

“Her name is Bridget and I am no’ obsessed. However, she is very bonnie.” A smile lit up Caleb’s face and he shrugged. “I find her . . . mysterious.”

“The only lass I care about is Phoebe,” said Hawke, kissing her atop the head again. “And I canna wait to make ye my wife, my love.”

Chapter 24

A sennight later

Phoebe walked forward, holding on to the arm of her father through the crowd of MacNabs and MacKeefes that joined together at the MacKeefe camp in the Highlands for her wedding to Hawke.

It was hard for Hawke to wait, but she’d convinced him that she wanted to postpone the wedding until her father was well enough to give her away. Angus MacNab was far from healed, but at least now he wasn’t so weak and could walk on his own. They also waited until the men returned from the encounter with the English.

By the time the English made their way up to Edinburgh, the Scots had managed to hold off fighting by burning everything in sight. They were planning an ambush if the English decided to force them into the Highlands, but that never happened. The English turned back and all of the MacKeefes thankfully came home alive.

The Common Centaury and Hart’s Tongue proved to make the perfect tonic that Phoebe’s father needed to heal. Phoebe proudly wore the purple and green plaid of the MacKeefes with a bright white tunic with ruffled sleeves. Her sisters, Elspeth and Agan, held baskets, scattering flower petals along her path all the way down to the water where Hawke waited with the others.

He looked so handsome in his plaid and with his long hair lifting in the breeze. Even though Phoebe and Hawke had already made love, she somehow felt nervous about sharing the wedding bed with him.

With the MacNabs on one side and the MacKeefes on the other, Phoebe and Hawke took their wedding vows. Then Orrick stepped forward with a strip of the MacKeefe plaid and a strip of the MacNab plaid held high for everyone to see.

“Hold out your hands,” said Orrick, wrapping the strips around them in a handfasting ceremony that would join the two clans as one. When they were finished, they slipped their hands out of the strips of cloth and Orrick held up the knot entwined by both the plaids for everyone to see.

Cheers and shouts went up from the crowd, but then the priest asked for the rings.

“Caleb, give me the rings,” Hawke said in a low voice while Ian and Logan looked on. Ethan stood to the side, holding his bagpipes.

“The rings,” said Caleb, patting his pockets and then his pouch. “I had them right here.” Hawke noticed a brown bushy tail disappearing under the table.

“Marty, ye thief, bring those rings back here,” said Caleb, diving for the pine marten. Ethan’s wolfhound thought it was a game, jumping on top of Caleb, knocking over the table. Then, when Jack, Logan’s wolf, saw the pine marten running away, it took off after it in a mad dash.

“Nay, get back here, Jack,” cried Logan, running after the wolf. “Dinna eat Caleb’s pet.”

“Forget the rings, we’ll get them later,” Hawke announced. “Everyone, back to the huts for a dram of whisky.”

He leaned over and kissed Phoebe, making her giggle. She held a bouquet of flowers that he almost smashed.

“Throw the flowers,” said little Sophie. She was happy with Hawke and Phoebe as her new parents, but Oliver scowled from the shadows, not yet accepting them since he’d heard that both Phoebe and Hawke were the ones to kill his father. But with time, Phoebe was sure he would come around, since he’d also heard that Euan was the one who killed his mother. Life was hard in the Highlands, and the events and situations often caused boys to turn to men quickly.

“Och, I almost forgot,” said Phoebe, looking over her shoulder at her sisters, giving them the signal that she was going to throw the bouquet to Sophie. She threw it right to the little girl, but Phoebe’s brother, Miles, jumped in front of her, catching it and running away.

“Give them to me,” pouted the little girl, running after him.

“I think mayhap if we’d had the weddin’ in a castle, there might have been a little less chaos,” said Hawke.

“I dinna mind. I like it,” said Phoebe, beaming with happiness. “It is a guid feelin’ to have lots and lots of family.”

“Hawke, I found the bag, but the rings must have rolled out,” said Caleb, running up to them out of breath and slapping the torn silk bag into Hawke’s hand.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” growled Hawke, throwing the bag to the ground. “Now, go find the rings.”

“Right away,” said Caleb, taking off at a run. Apollo screeched from the sky as everyone headed from the water’s edge toward the main part of camp. The place was decorated beautifully with arches made of twisted branches and covered with Highland flowers such mountain avens, primrose and heather. There were a good half-dozen fires burning with lamb and pheasant roasting on spits. Tables were set up, covered in cloth of both the MacKeefe and the MacNab plaids. And lining each table were many jugs of old Callum MacKeefe’s Mountain Magic.

Ethan followed Hawke and Phoebe, playing the bagpipes, stopping right behind them.

“Thank ye, that is beautiful,” said Phoebe, but Hawke was less enthused.

“That’s enough,” he said, causing Ethan to stop playing.