“Immediately!”
Peggy snorted to beat any Highland cow. “As if you had to tell me that!” She pointed to the row of tents opposite from where they were standing. “Em and I will take that side, and you two take this one.”
“Sounds good,” agreed Annie. “If we don’t find anything before 10:25, then let’s meet at MacTavish’s and go meet the guys.”
Peggy saluted, and with a “Happy hunting!” she and Em went on their way. The first tent they came to, Dress to Kilt, radiated with color. Clan tartans draped racks along the canvas walls, looking like mini waterfalls. Spinning displays of kilt pins and accessories flanked the entrance.
“Em, you look at those pins,” Peggy said, pointing her daughter to the display just across the entrance from where they were standing. “I’ll check the ones over here.” Excited to be a part of the sleuthing, Emily danced over to fulfill her assignment.
As mother and daughter concentrated on the pin designs, they didn’t notice the slim teenager in a dark kilt and black shirt come through the entrance until he started fiddling. Then they peered around the two displays to watch the young musician serenade the girl behind a table, who blushed delicately under the freckles that sprinkled her pale but lovely face.
He ended with a flourish and held out his fiddle and bow in supplication, layers of dark hair almost covering his eyes. “Will fiddle for kilt pin,” he said.
Emily clapped her hand over her mouth, and Peggy ducked slightly behind the display to hide her smile.
“My parents would never let me come back next year if I started bartering away inventory on entertainment, Eli.” The girl’s voice started out prim, like she was channeling a schoolmarm from the Victorian era. Then the corners of her mouth turned up, and her eyes softened. “Even if the fiddler is cute when he plays.”
The fiddler shifted one foot forward and gestured at his kilt with his bow. “Aw, Linley, I lost my kilt pin, and now I’ll have to keep flashing my thighs at everyone.”
“You may not thank me for it, but they will.” Linley’s smile widened into cheekiness. “But, maybe … .” The girl turned and poked her head through a gap in the back wall of the tent, looking left and then right to make sure her parents weren’t nearby. “I could loan you a pin until the end of the day. You’ll have to bring it back, or I’m in deep trouble when they do inventory. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Eli stepped as close to the girl as he could get with the table between them and leaned over the obstacle, speaking in a low voice. “I’d never want trouble for you. But won’t your parents be here at the end of the day, loading up stuff?”
“Yeah, probably.” Linley gave the young man a look that had Peggy suddenly feeling like an intruder. She suddenly was reminded of when she first fell for Wally. “I guess we’ll just have to meet somewhere away from the tent.”
Eli gazed into the girl’s eyes. “Can you meet me at the Harper’s building? I’ll be helping my aunt pack up, but I can get away for a few minutes.” His expression communicated how much he wished it could be longer.
A woman in khaki Bermuda shorts and a shirt sprinkled with blue and red lobsters broke into the aura of blooming love in the tent to look around. Linley whispered, “OK,” and then looked down at the kilt pins on the table. Selecting one, she slipped it into a small paper bag. Eli transferred his bow into the same hand as his fiddle and held out his hand. The girl laid the bag on his palm, delaying long enough to give the musician a chance to close his fingers briefly around hers.
The woman in the Bermuda shorts stepped up to the table and addressed the girl, “Do you have any pins with the Cross of St. Andrew?” With a wink, Eli released Linley’s hand and slipped from the shop, while the object of his affection saw to the needs of the customer.
“Yes, we have several
Peggy snorted to beat any Highland cow. “As if you had to tell me that!” She pointed to the row of tents opposite from where they were standing. “Em and I will take that side, and you two take this one.”
“Sounds good,” agreed Annie. “If we don’t find anything before 10:25, then let’s meet at MacTavish’s and go meet the guys.”
Peggy saluted, and with a “Happy hunting!” she and Em went on their way. The first tent they came to, Dress to Kilt, radiated with color. Clan tartans draped racks along the canvas walls, looking like mini waterfalls. Spinning displays of kilt pins and accessories flanked the entrance.
“Em, you look at those pins,” Peggy said, pointing her daughter to the display just across the entrance from where they were standing. “I’ll check the ones over here.” Excited to be a part of the sleuthing, Emily danced over to fulfill her assignment.
As mother and daughter concentrated on the pin designs, they didn’t notice the slim teenager in a dark kilt and black shirt come through the entrance until he started fiddling. Then they peered around the two displays to watch the young musician serenade the girl behind a table, who blushed delicately under the freckles that sprinkled her pale but lovely face.
He ended with a flourish and held out his fiddle and bow in supplication, layers of dark hair almost covering his eyes. “Will fiddle for kilt pin,” he said.
Emily clapped her hand over her mouth, and Peggy ducked slightly behind the display to hide her smile.
“My parents would never let me come back next year if I started bartering away inventory on entertainment, Eli.” The girl’s voice started out prim, like she was channeling a schoolmarm from the Victorian era. Then the corners of her mouth turned up, and her eyes softened. “Even if the fiddler is cute when he plays.”
The fiddler shifted one foot forward and gestured at his kilt with his bow. “Aw, Linley, I lost my kilt pin, and now I’ll have to keep flashing my thighs at everyone.”
“You may not thank me for it, but they will.” Linley’s smile widened into cheekiness. “But, maybe … .” The girl turned and poked her head through a gap in the back wall of the tent, looking left and then right to make sure her parents weren’t nearby. “I could loan you a pin until the end of the day. You’ll have to bring it back, or I’m in deep trouble when they do inventory. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Eli stepped as close to the girl as he could get with the table between them and leaned over the obstacle, speaking in a low voice. “I’d never want trouble for you. But won’t your parents be here at the end of the day, loading up stuff?”
“Yeah, probably.” Linley gave the young man a look that had Peggy suddenly feeling like an intruder. She suddenly was reminded of when she first fell for Wally. “I guess we’ll just have to meet somewhere away from the tent.”
Eli gazed into the girl’s eyes. “Can you meet me at the Harper’s building? I’ll be helping my aunt pack up, but I can get away for a few minutes.” His expression communicated how much he wished it could be longer.
A woman in khaki Bermuda shorts and a shirt sprinkled with blue and red lobsters broke into the aura of blooming love in the tent to look around. Linley whispered, “OK,” and then looked down at the kilt pins on the table. Selecting one, she slipped it into a small paper bag. Eli transferred his bow into the same hand as his fiddle and held out his hand. The girl laid the bag on his palm, delaying long enough to give the musician a chance to close his fingers briefly around hers.
The woman in the Bermuda shorts stepped up to the table and addressed the girl, “Do you have any pins with the Cross of St. Andrew?” With a wink, Eli released Linley’s hand and slipped from the shop, while the object of his affection saw to the needs of the customer.
“Yes, we have several
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