Page 64 of Treachery in the Highlands
I laugh softly, running my fingers through his tousled locks."I wish we could,mo chridhe.But if we don't show up, my father will likely burst in here with his claymore drawn."
"Point taken," Joey reluctantly releases me."I'd rather not start the day with a sword at my throat.Kieran loves to sneak up behind me and threaten to behead me."
"Aye, but he likes you."
Joey snorts, trying not to laugh."He has a funny way of showing it."
"Do ye think Father would let me sleep with you if he didn't have a soft spot for ye?"
"Maybe he's just waiting for a good time to toss me down the garderobe channel."
As we rise and begin to dress, I'm amazed at how seamlessly Joey has adapted to life in medieval Scotland.His leather jacket hangs beside my tartan, a strange but oddly fitting juxtaposition.
"So, what should I expect from this clan gathering?"Joey asks, pulling on his boots."Lots of kilts, bagpipes, and haggis, I'm guessing?"
I roll my eyes but cannae stop myself from smiling at his cheeky grin."Aye, and don't forget the caber tossing and sheep shearing contests."
"Wait, really?"His eyes widen comically."Dear God, I'd better polish up on my Catholic schoolboy manners or else I'll be burned at the stake."
"No, ye daft man," I laugh, swatting his arm playfully."Though there will be some traditional games.But mostly, it's a time for the clans to come together, discuss alliances, settle disputes, and...well, drink a fair bit of whisky."
Joey's expression turns thoughtful."Sounds like a powder keg waiting to explode.Rival clans, alcohol, and sharp objects.What could possibly go wrong?"
I can't help but grimace at Joey's astute observation."Aye, that's why I'm a wee bit anxious.These gatherings can turn volatile faster than ye can say 'slàinte mhath'."
Joey raises an eyebrow."Slawn-ge what now?"
"It means 'good health' in Gaelic," I explain, fastening my cloak."Ye'll be hearing it a lot today, so ye might want to practice."
"Slan-ge va," Joey attempts, his accent mangling the words."Close enough?"
I try not to laugh, but I fail miserably."We'll work on it,mo chridhe."
Joey has just finished dressing, but now he gazes at me with his brows wrinkled."You've said those words before, but I have no idea what they mean."
Should I tell him the truth?I hadn't intentionally called himmo chridhe---my heart---but I realize that is what he's become to me.
Joey rushes toward me, grasping my arms."What's wrong, Rachel?Your eyes have teared up."
"I know.It's just that I suddenly understood how much I feel those words."
"What do they mean?"
I gnaw on my lip for a moment, then I tell him."The phrasemo chridhemeans 'my heart.'And that is precisely what you've become for me.I love you, Joey."
He brushes hair away from my face and smiles in the sweetest manner."I love you too, Rachel.And if I could pronounce that Gaelic phrase without mangling it, I'd say it right now."
I touch his cheek."After the gathering, I'll teach it to you."
As we amble into the great hall hand in hand, the castle is already buzzing with activity.The aunts are scurrying about, trying to decide what to wear.My mother does the same and keeps asking me if her outfit is good enough for a clan gathering or if she should "fix up" her hair differently.Dale and Norma will be attending the event along with our little group of MacTaggarts---and Joey, naturally.My grandparents have lived in the medieval world for almost as long as Mother has.
We must bring gifts, of course, to show the other clans how civilized we've become despite the fact we live in a castle in the middle of nowhere.The clan gathering provides an opportunity to reconnect with friends and to meet new ones.By the time we leave Dùndubhan, I've become genuinely excited about this event.The journey to the gathering takes time since Dùndubhan is situated deep in the wilderness.The sun has just begun to rise, and we carry lanterns to guide our way.
As we hike through the misty forest, the lantern light casting eerie shadows among the ancient trees, I can feel Joey's tension radiating off him in waves.He's trying to hide it, but his grip on my hand is a bit too tight, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
"Relax,mo chridhe," I whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze."The forest won't bite."
"Easy for you to say," he mutters back."You didn't grow up watching horror movies where the creepy forest is always full of ax murderers and werewolves."
