by Karen Kelly
Then, the singer announced the final song, The Banks o’ Doon. About halfway through the lyrics her eyes returned to Annie. Peggy leaned over the table toward Annie and Ian. Positioning her arm as though to brace herself but actually trying to shield her mouth from the musicians, she whispered, “Um, Annie, you might want to take a look and listen to the singer.”
Both Ian and Annie reluctantly turned their focus from each other to the performance. As soon as she saw Annie’s attention had been won, the woman looked straight into her green eyes and sang:
“With lightsome heart I put a rose,
Full sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
But, ah! He left the thorns wi’ me.”
When she began the final verse, her eyes turned away from Annie to finally perform for the entire audience.
“What was that all about?” Peggy mouthed to her friends.
Bafflement covered Annie’s features. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m going to see if I can talk to her as soon as the music stops.”
“I think Wally and I should accompany you,” said Ian. Wally nodded his agreement.
Annie paused, and then reluctantly agreed. “Just be sure you don’t intimidate her. I really want to be able to find out what she meant by singing that verse specifically to me. A false lover? Stealing her rose? What’s that got to do with me?” She turned to Ian. “Or you for that matter? Why she was flirting with you long before she noticed me?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been that startled or uncomfortable,” Ian admitted. “Look, they’re ending. Let’s go.”
The band was taking their bows to the enthusiastic applause of the audience. Had the two members of the Stony Point group not been singled out for such unusual attention, they would also have been vigorously clapping. Instead, Annie and her two bodyguards stood to move toward the platform, while Alice, Peggy, and Emily tidied the table, although their eyes followed their three friends.
As they approached the area where the musicians were gathering their instruments, Annie raised her voice above the noisy crowd. “Excuse me, Miss! May I talk to you for a moment?”
The sapphire eyes of the beautiful woman barely brushed Annie’s face before she turned toward the back of the tent. When Annie and the men began to follow her, two burly men in kilts who had been stationed by the exit stepped forward to block their path.
“I only want to ask her about the last song she sang,” Annie explained.
The two men crossed their arms, remaining silent.
Ian took her hand, lightly squeezing, “It’s OK. Let’s get back to the others.”
Annie, though disappointed, nodded to the kilted men and allowed Ian to draw her away, with Wally following them. As soon as they were a safe distance from them, Ian said to the other two. “Quick! Maybe we can go out the front and still catch her behind the tent.”
The three hurried, trying to make as little commotion as possible, to the table where they had eaten. Alerting Alice and Peggy quickly, they all rushed for the entrance.
10
Fairly tumbling out into the sunshine, the two men, three women and one little girl blinked as their eyes adjusted to the brightness.
“This way!” Ian waved for the group to follow him around the right side of the large tent toward the exit where the singer had fled. Wally scooped Emily up into his arms so she wouldn’t be trampled.
Before the friends reached their destination, a large shadow passed over them. Alice glanced up and shrieked, “Everybody, duck!” Pulling Peggy, who was next to her, down with her, she huddled against the side of the tent as the huge golden eagle from the demonstration swooped over their heads, talons extended forward. Wally turned with his back toward the raptor, hunching over to provide as much protection for his daughter as possible. Ian threw his arm around Annie and crouched, seeking to do the same.
The bird’s shadow left, and the group started to rise from their defensive positions until Emily pointed over her father’s shoulder. “Daddy! She’s coming back!” As one entity, the six bewildered people sank again into a tight knot, sheltering against the tent canvas.
Two more times the golden eagle harried them, descending close enough to have been able to harm before pulling up just inches from their heads. At last Athena did not turn back on them, but soared over the tent tops and away.
After staying crouched under Ian’s arms for a few minutes, Annie drew in a shuddering breath. “Do you think it will come back?”
“Mercy, I hope not!” Alice exclaimed. “This is more excitement than I bargained for on my semi-vacation.” Her eyes scanned the sky for any signs of the raptor.
Ian had remained stalwart during the attack, and his voice reflected a calm the others did not share. “Athena could have attacked at any time instead of simply passing over us. I don’t think she will harm us, even if she does come back.”
“Well, let’s not make it easy for her, if she does,” inserted Wally. “I say it’s time to move on to somewhere else.”
Peggy nodded her agreement with her husband’s suggestion. “The singer is surely long gone by now, so why don’t we go watch some dancing.” She glanced at her daughter still clasped in Wally’s arms. “How does that sound, Em?”
Emily’s eyes darted around them. “OK—as long as Athena doesn’t follow us.”
Wally’s arms tightened around her. “I won’t let her near you, Princess.”
“There’s something else I think we need to consider,” said Ian. “But let’s find a tent in which to talk for just a minute before we head to the dance venue.” The sound of a different band could be heard in the tent where they had eaten lunch, so the mayor looked around at the other nearby tents. “The one over there sounds pretty quiet.”
The others followed him into the tent and gathered around an empty table. “What’s on your mind?” Alice asked once they were settled.
Ian looked at Annie apologetically. “With the events of the last hour or so, I’m beginning to suspect you have stumbled onto a secret that is potentially dangerous. I’m concerned for your safety, Annie.”
“Do you think Hep threw the hammer at Annie on purpose?” asked Peggy.
Ian considered her question for a moment. “I don’t know. He certainly seemed sincere when he apologized, but I admit I’m rather stunned by everything that’s happened.”
“He seemed awfully embarrassed,” said Annie. “I really don’t see how he could have faked it so well.”
“But then again, we didn’t stick around to see his other throws,” pondered Alice.
Annie admitted, “That’s true. And even if Hep’s throw was truly unintentional, there’s no way the singer’s actions—or the eagle’s for that matter—were random.”
“That’s obvious to all of us,” said Wally. “Annie, you sure do have a way about you for finding mischief!”
Annie sat up straight, a wry grin spreading across her face. “I don’t find the mischief, Wally. It finds me!”
“Be that as it may, I think we need to consider whether it might not be safer for you if we leave,” Ian gently suggested. “You can still research the sporran and ferrule, just at a distance from the people who seem to be shaken up by your presence.”
Annie dug into her bag, pulling out her notebook and pen. “And who are those people?” She flipped open the notebook and began scribbling names. “Apparently, the falconer, Finley. But we never even talked to him.”
“Maybe Brooke told him about Ian’s questions,” suggested Peggy.
“Maybe,” Annie agreed. Annie wrote “singer” below “Finley—falconer.” “I wish the falconers had given their full names,” she said, “and I don’t remember the name of the singer. Does anyone?”
The adults looked at each other, shaking their heads. “I don’t think they ever introduced themselves,” said Alice. “Or maybe I was too distracted by all the food when they first started.”
“Now that you
mention it, I’m certain the individual band members were never introduced,” said Ian. “The band name was … ” His voice trailed off.
Peggy drummed her manicured nails on the table before remembering. “Celtic Mist!”
“Yes!” Annie jotted down the band name. “Now we just need to find out the name of the lead singer.”
Ian cleared his throat, drawing the others’ attention. “We’ve strayed from our original discussion. The question before us is whether we should leave the Games and take you safely home to Grey Gables.”
Annie sat quiet for a moment before answering. “I see no reason to leave and force everyone else to miss out on hours more of fun. Ian—you said yourself that if Athena had been sent to harm, she would have. So, obviously she wasn’t. And the singer also did no harm. Music doesn’t maim.” She tried to lighten things with a small laugh. “We haven’t seen the dancing for Emily or the sheepdog trials, which I know you want to see.”
“And don’t forget the kilt-making demonstration,” added Alice. “We might meet some other crafters from other Maine towns. I know Mary Beth would appreciate that.”
Ian pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it. “I surrender. I know when I’m beat.”
Wally clapped him on the shoulder. “You gave it a good try, Ian. But it’s impossible to change the mind of stubborn womenfolk. It’s like trying to dictate Maine weather.”
“Does that mean we can stop talking and go watch the dancing now?” asked Emily.
The defeated man tucked his flag of surrender back into his pocket and smiled at her. “Yes, Em. That’s exactly what it means.”
The dancer sprang out of her chair and tugged on Wally’s arm. “Come on, Dad. Mr. Mayor says we can go! I don’t want to miss it!”
“Hold on a sec,” Wally told his daughter and quickly consulted the Games schedule and map before standing up and taking her hand. “Now I know where we need to go. You wouldn’t want to end up watching the Highland cattle dancing, now would you?”
Emily giggled and rolled her eyes. “Cows can’t dance!” The mood lightened, and the adults put aside the baffling events that had preceded and followed the dancing girl out of the tent and toward Stage 3. Ian, however casual his demeanor, kept his eyes moving from crowd to sky, ever vigilant.
The group from Stony Point spied some seats located in the center of the rows from where they would be able to see every part of the stage, including the pipers standing on the edge of the platform. As they arranged themselves, Emily sitting on her father’s lap for an even better vantage point, the next Premier dance category was announced: the Seann Triubhas.
Three girls who looked to be in the twelve- to fourteen-year age range stepped onto the platform and formed a line, leaving about five feet of space between them. With their hands on their hips and their heels together with their toes turned out, they stood like statues as the piping began. Then, hinging at the waist, they solemnly bowed and began their dance, stepping to the side and back before moving in a circle on one foot at a time—first the right and then the left.
Emily leaned forward in her father’s lap, as though to be as close to the movement as possible, her eyes darting back and forth between the three dancers before settling on one. “The dancer in red is the best,” she whispered to Peggy who was sitting next to her. The girl in the red tartan sprang more quickly and lightly, keeping perfect time to the music. Further into the song, one of the other dancers mistakenly turned in the opposite direction from the other two. The young dancer from Stony Point sighed in understanding. The first time Emily had danced in a recital she realized that performing in front of a bunch of people you don’t know was harder than she had expected. But she was getting used to it now. She felt sorry for the girl who was several years older than her and yet still showed such nervousness.
After two and a half minutes of dancing, the song ended with a final bow, and the three dancers trotted off the stage to make room for the next group. By the time the next four groups had taken their final bows, the folks from Stony Point had developed a strong appreciation for the difficulty of the Seann Triubhas dance.
Alice leaned over toward Peggy and Annie, “You always hear about the Highland Fling, but this one looks more difficult to me.” She paused to read the brochure to see what would be the next dance in the competition. “Oh—the Sword Dance is after this. That’s a cool one too.”
Emily tore her gaze from the dancers approaching the platform. “Miss Alice, have you ever danced the Sword Dance?”
“Oh, no, Emily,” Alice answered with a laugh. “That’s too complicated for me! But I bet you could master just about any dance you want to.”
Peggy had not missed her daughter’s rapt expression while watching the Seann Triubhas. “Something tells me it’s a good thing we’re going to that kilt-making demonstration.” She moved her eyes to the feet of the dancers lining up for the dance. “And I better start saving for new dance shoes. Em doesn’t have any like those. I’ll have to ask around about them.”
Emily turned to her with eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really, Mom? Can I learn Highland dancing too? Maybe even dance at the Highland Games?”
“If it’s what you want to learn, Em,” Peggy answered. “I figure now’s the time to try different things and see what you want to do the most. How can you know if you don’t try lots of dances?”
Emily whispered, “Thank you, Mom!” and turned her eyes back to the three dancers on the platform, who had already bowed and were beginning their steps in a circle. Immediately, a girl in a sky-blue kilt stood out to all who watched. Her jumps were lighter, higher, more precise and full of joy. To Emily, it was as though only one girl were dancing, and she did not take her eyes off the dancer until she had bowed and disappeared off the platform. Emily leaned back against her father and murmured, “Beautiful!”
All the Seann Triubhas competitors had danced and awaited their scores. To no one’s surprise, the dancer in the sky-blue kilt was declared the winner. Her name was Kyla Bell. The groups for the Sword Dance were called, and the audience took the chance to talk among themselves.
“So, what do you think of the dancing, Mr. Mayor?” Peggy asked Ian.
Ian had divided his time between enjoying the performances and observing the audience and the activity in the vicinity. “I’m impressed by the mastery shown at such a young age,” he answered. “Some of the other dancers looked much older than the first-place winner. This has sparked an idea I’m going to research once I get back to the office.”
“Is it top secret or can some of your constituents be in on this idea too?” asked Alice.
Ian grinned. “Actually, getting some opinions might not be a bad idea. What do you think of having a Robert Burns Day in Stony Point? After all, most of the town’s original settlers were from Scotland. I was thinking about having a Highland dance group come.”
“I love the idea, Ian!” Annie exclaimed.
“So do I,” added Alice. “Just don’t force us to eat haggis.”
“I’m not sure you can have a Robert Burns Day without haggis,” Wally teased.
Alice leaned over and playfully whacked Wally on the head with her brochure. “I didn’t say Ian couldn’t have it … he just can’t force us to eat it. There’s probably someone in town crazy enough to want to try it.”
“I think it’s a great idea, haggis or no haggis,” said Peggy. “But give me plenty of warning so I can haggle some time off with the boss. I might even be able to convince Marie to bake up some scones for the event.”
“There’s a good deal of research to do, and I’ll have to run it past the town board,” Ian said. “But I’ll keep you posted, Peggy, and if it’s approved, I’d certainly appreciate your help.” He looked around at his other friends. “And everyone else’s.”
“You’ll have it, of course,” Annie assured him. “Pitching in is one of the things the people of Stony Point do best.” When Annie had first come to Stony Point she h
ad wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable there, New England being so different from the South. But it wasn’t long before she learned to appreciate those differences; she also saw the many ways in which the people were the same, at heart. And for Annie, the heart was what mattered the most.
Emily tugged on her father’s shirt collar and whispered to him, “Dad, can we stop talking? The Sword Dance is starting. See the swords they put on the stage?”
Wally looked at the stage and saw that his little princess was right. “OK, Em. I’ll be quiet during the dancing … just for you.” The other adults hid their smiles and tucked their conversation in their pockets to pull out later.
Three dancers had positioned themselves behind three sets of crossed swords. As with the Seann Truibhas, the piping played for half a minute before the girls bowed and began their dance. They started on their toes behind the swords before winding their way between the swords with leaps and intricate steps. Although sounds coming from the crowds milling around the platform were constant and at times loud, the audience tuned it all out as they watched the breathtaking dance.
When the three girls had bowed and were leaving the platform, Wally dared to ask Emily a question. “Which do you like best, the Sword Dance or the first one?”
His daughter pursed her lips as she thought about the two dances, and then shrugged. “I like them both. The swords are cool, but the steps in the first one looked fun too.” Her eyes grew starry. “Especially when Kyla Bell danced. I hope I can dance as beautifully as her when I’m her age!” Only the arrival of another trio of dancers drew her out of her reverie.
As they watched trio after trio, the adults from Stony Point spent as much time watching Emily as they did the dancers. Her happiness was contagious. Once the winner of the Sword Dance competition was announced, the group rose to leave. They didn’t want to miss the finals of the sheepdog trials.
Emily walked between her parents, still gushing about Kyla Bell.