Chapter 16 #2
He shifted his attention to the far side of the yard, where two men dragged a coil of rope across the grass.
They looped it around the stump and hauled the slack as hard as they could.
He then walked the length of it, checked the knots, and marked the line for heels with the heel of his boot.
He called out the teams, mixed strength with sense, and sent a runner for more chalk.
“Anchor there,” he said, pointing with his finger. “Set yer feet. Shoulders low. Count on me call.”
The men moved without fuss.
Calum gave him a dry look. “A grown man’s game, me Laird.”
“Aye,” Alex said. “And better for it.”
He felt the shift in the yard before he saw it. Voices rose, but not in alarm. He turned, and the twins spilled out of the small door at the edge of the wall, dragging Erica between them as if they had trapped a rare prize.
She wore blue that caught the light and threw it back in a clean line across her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed from what he imagined to be running down the stairs, and her eyes were bright.
He remembered the previous night at the lake and pushed the thought out of his mind the minute it came. He turned his eyes to the girls instead, watching their wide smiles grow closer as their grip tightened on Erica’s hands.
“Is it just me, or do the lasses’ hair look redder than usual?” he muttered under his breath.
Calum shifted beside him. “The sun. Mine is redder as well.”
“Must be the sun then,” Alex responded, his voice clear.
Erica drew nearer, still looking from post to post. He looked at her, and for a second, he could have sworn her cheeks were flushed.
“What is going on?”
“Training day,” he said. “‘Tis a tradition Grandmamma started. The whole castle has to engage in it every few months.”
“Really?” Erica asked, swallowing.
“Aye. Very convenient that all she has to do is sit and watch it, though,” Alex added, raising his voice with each word so the older woman could hear him.
Grandmamma spoke from her chair under the tree. “Blame old age, nae me.”
Erica laughed, a clear, short sound that cut through the yard. It drew his attention before he could stop it.
Bettie seized her hand. “Ye are with me.”
Katie latched onto Alex’s sleeve. “And ye are with us.”
Alex looked down at her. “We will lose,” he said.
Katie wrinkled her nose. “Only if ye cheat.”
“Then we are safe,” he said, earning a small gasp of mock outrage.
Erica smiled across the rope. “We have to win.”
“Do ye now?” Alex drawled.
“Aye,” she said.
He set positions and watched as the men took their places behind the children, ready to give weight without trampling small feet. He took the anchor on his side because Katie demanded it. Erica went back three places on the other line with Bettie wedged at her hip.
A guard with a loud voice raised a hand for silence.
“On me call,” Alex said. “Ready.”
The rope went tight with breath alone, and the yard fell quiet. Grandmamma leaned forward, and a few maids stood on the step with trays they forgot they were holding.
Alex raised his hand.
“Pull!” the guard shouted.
Feet dug in, and bodies leaned as the rope thrummed. Katie clenched her jaw and hauled like a sailor while leaning into the strain with a small growl. Erica laughed and planted her feet, then pulled as if the line were a prize she was determined to win.
Alex felt the pressure run through his hands and down his arms. He could have taken ground with one shift of his weight. He did not. He made the pull hard enough to keep his pride but soft enough to keep joy.
“Harder!” Bettie shouted, wicked with glee.
“We will lose now,” Katie cried, not at all afraid, only thrilled.
“Hold,” Alex said, steady and low.
He watched Erica brace and adjust. She found a rhythm and held it.
When his side began to creep forward, he leaned just enough to slow them, then let a hair of slack slip through his fingers.
The rope gave a fraction, and the line across from him took heart and pulled.
He lifted his chin at Calum, who gave him a look that said he saw every inch of it.
Ye’re losing on purpose.
Alex returned his gaze to the rope and shifted his weight again. Their side lost ground, and a heel slid, then another. The line came to the mark. With a last shout, the other side dragged his team past it.
The guard slammed the butt of his staff into the ground.
“Call!” he yelled. “Win to the Lady’s line.”
Groans erupted from men who had pretended not to care, and laughter crowded the courtyard. Katie bounced on her toes, while Bettie flung both arms in the air like a victor at a fair.
Erica’s delight came fast and clean. She threw her head back and laughed, unguarded, the sound bigger than she likely knew.
Alex let his hands fall from the rope. The loss sat easily. He looked at Katie first, because she would have noticed. She had, indeed. Her eyes were already sharp with a child’s knowledge, the kind that missed nothing.
“That is enough,” he called, voice back to iron. “Switch sides. Shake out yer hands.”
“Again,” Katie begged, tugging his hand. “Again.”
“Nay,” he said. “Ye all need to eat.”
“Milk and oatcakes,” Katie said. “The nurse promised.”
“Then we have a duty to make her a liar or honest,” he said.
Calum cleared his throat, the smallest sound of caution.
Alex set his stance and checked the line.
A guard to his left spoke above the noise, half in jest and half in pride. “The lady fights like a MacMillan.”
Alex stilled. A laugh died in his chest. Heads turned to Erica and then to him.
The words hung there for a second, simple as a thrown stone. They did not fall away.
Like a MacMillan.