Page 44 of Highland Spy

“Caleb?” came Bridget’s sweet voice from behind him. Caleb stopped and turned around, seeing her standing next to her father, looking as sweet and innocent as the first day he’d met her. She was nothin’ but a liar, he had to remind himself. Full of secrets and surprises. He didn’t like that about a woman, and he certainly didn’t like the fact that she’d been married before and was also barren and hadn’t thought to tell him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Can we share a trencher at the meal between the rounds of the competition?” she asked. “I would like that.”

Caleb swallowed deeply. He felt an aching in his gut. He had feelings for Bridget and didn’t want her to think he’d deserted her and that she would always be alone. As much as it hurt him to think of how many more secrets she was keeping from him, he just couldn’t turn his back on her and walk away. “Aye. I’d like that, too,” he told her, turning and heading to the field, wondering what he was going to do.

Chapter 15

“And now, the last competitor of the caber toss is Chieftain Storm MacKeefe,” announced the herald, causing the crowd to go wild. Being the host of the competition, Storm had most of his clan there cheering for him. There was no way he’d lose.

“Hoist the caber up to me. I’m ready, boys,” said Storm, putting on his lucky pair of leather gloves he’d been using lately when tossing the caber. Logan and Caleb lifted the heavy pole to a vertical position and stepped away.

“Ye’re goin’ to have a hard time beatin’ MacDonald’s throw,” said Caleb.

“Haud yer wheesht,” grunted Storm putting his hands around the pole and squatting down to get it into position. “I’m the champion of the caber toss and always will be, no matter what anyone says.”

“Guid luck,” Logan called out as bagpipe music split the air, adding to the excitement of the competition. Storm leaned the pole slightly against his shoulder, hiking it up and getting his clasped hands below it to lift it in the air. The pole wobbled and Storm took two steps backward and then another two forward to steady it. And just as he moved forward, starting to flip the caber, his hands slipped on the pole. The caber came crashing down and landed on Storm’s toe. A cracking noise was heard and then Storm cursed loudly as the pole fell to the ground without being tossed at all.

The music stopped and everyone gasped in surprise. Who would have ever thought this would happen to the champ? This was a tragedy and such a disappointment, too. Caleb and Logan stood there with their jaws dropped because this was highly unexpected. Storm was the expert at this event. Something was severely wrong. An accident like this never should have occurred.

“Damn it!” shouted Storm, waving his arms in the air. “God’s eyes, I canna believe this happened.”

The announcer shouted out to the crowd. “Storm MacKeefe willna be gettin’ any points for this part of the contest because he didna toss the caber at all. Therefore, Henry MacDonald is the winner of the round and in first place in the Leader of the Lairds Competition so far. We will move on to the broad jump next.”

“Somethin’s wrong,” said Caleb, looking over at Logan.

“Let’s go find out,” said Logan as they took off at a run toward Storm. When they got there, Wren was on her knees looking at her husband’s foot.

“Storm, your toe is broken and it’s swelling up like a goat’s bladder,” said Wren.

“Och,” remarked Logan, looking down at Storm’s bare foot. “It’s the color of a goat’s bladder, too.”

“You cannot compete in the rest of the challenges,” Wren told her husband. “You’ll have to forfeit.”

“Nay! I am the reignin’ champion of the Leader of the Lairds and I willna give up.” In anger, Storm pulled off his gloves and threw them to the ground.

Slink jumped out of Caleb’s bag, inspecting the leather gloves and licking them.

“Storm, please calm down,” said Wren.”

“How can I calm down?” he spat. “This is the first round of the finals and I’m already behind. Now I’m goin’ to have to work that much harder to get extra points in the other rounds. I need to get over to the broad jump.” He took one step and winced in pain, almost falling over. “Bid the devil, no’ now!”

“Storm, ye canna even walk,” said Logan. “There is no way ye’re goin’ to be able to run and jump. Ye’ll have to pull out of the competition.”

“This is the work of the devil,” complained Storm, holding up his foot. “I dinna think I’d have an accident like so many of the competitors yesterday. What the hell is goin’ on?”

“Aye, that is odd that there have been so many unfortunate accidents,” said Caleb, looking down at his pine marten, still licking the gloves. “Slink, stop that.” He bent down to pick up his pet and noticed something glistening on Storm’s gloves. Picking them up, he saw a thin, white film over them. He brought it to his nose and took a sniff and made a face. “I think I ken why ye dropped the pole, Storm.”

“It’s because I was careless,” said Storm, cursing once again.

“Nay, I think someone is tryin’ to sabotage the competition. Smell these.” He handed the gloves to Storm.

Storm sniffed the gloves, made a face, and then ran his finger over the leather and tasted it. “Blethers, what is fish oil doin’ on my gloves?”

“Fish oil?” asked Logan. “No wonder the pole slipped right out of yer grasp.”

“Is someone causing these accidents to happen?” asked Wren in surprise.