The Scottish snare drum was constructed differently from a regular snare drum, and that’s what gave it that buzzy rolling sound.
Laird and Murray were already a piper and drummer from their days in the school band, so we’d enlisted them. And when Ramsay arrived on the island with a background as a militarypiper, I’d worn him down until he joined too. The five of us together were known as the Leth Sholas Pipe Band.
Aye, we all accrued a wee bit extra income for performing, but that’s not why we did it. It was literally a band of brothers. We’d seen one another through the worst of times.
Flashes from cameras went off, and I knew wherever those photos ended up, they’d be gone once Ramsay’s tech person found them online. He’d mentioned he might start wearing one of those masks that render faces undetectable, but I didn’t know how he’d explain why to the other lads. I chuckled to myself at the thought as we marched around the stage switching up our formation, our kilts kicking around our thighs. Since we were pretty informal, we didn’t wear the full pipe band regalia. Instead, we wore our kilts with hiking boots and T-shirts with our band name on it. Our kilts were made with Isle of Glenvulin tartan, which was a deep forest green with navy and dark pink plaid and white stitching.
Forde winked at an unfamiliar but attractive brunette as he moved into his new position, and quirked a brow at the way she almost swooned. He saw I’d caught the interaction and grinned like a cocky teenager. I shook my head at him as he eased back in position, slowing his tempo to a complete stop along with Laird and Murray, leaving me and Ramsay in front.
We let only a second of silence reign before I began a new tempo on the snare. A hush fell over the crowd again as Ramsay joined me in the opening notes of “Highland Cathedral.” After a minute, Forde entered the fray, and then Murray and Laird. Halfway through we switched to “Mairi’s Wedding,” a very up-tempo piece of music. Our audience tapped their feet, clapped their hands, and banged on tables to keep the beat with us, and it only made us play harder, feeding off their energy.
When we finished, the guests treated us to a roar of applause. I waited for the clapping, cheering, and whistling to stopbefore I projected loudly from the stage, “Fàilte guGlenvulin! We’ve been the Leth Sholas Pipe Band. To continue festivities and begin the dance, let’s welcome to the stage the Scaris Troubadours!”
As we exited to let the ceilidh band set up, I felt an insistent itch to get to Taran. Since her break-in, I’d worried constantly about her, even though she’d made it clear she didn’t need me to.
Once we’d locked our instruments in the community center office, we headed back out into the party. Forde smacked Ramsay on the back. “What’s wrong with you, you moody bastard?”
“Let me ask you something—do I seem like a man who ceilidh dances?” The look he gave Forde would have felled a lesser man.
Forde, however, couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. “Is Tierney making you stay?”
“Making me stay …” Ramsay scowled. “She wants to dance. I only dance when it’s imperative.” While our mates might not understand his meaning, I did. He’d only danced in the past when it was part of his cover as an operative.
“Which means tonight.” Laird chuckled as he pushed past us. “It’s always imperative when our women ask it of us.”
“I’ll dance with Silver,” Forde offered.
“Try, and you die. And don’t call her Silver. She’s Tierney to you.” Ramsay shoulder-checked him as he stalked off, the crowds naturally parting for the large man.
I chuckled at Forde’s disbelieving look. “When did he become a territorial bastard?”
This time I snorted. “Eh, this is a man who is so territorial he bought his own island.”
“Aye, that’s true. I can’t see Tierney putting up with that shite, though.”
“Ach, Ramsay’s got his demons. I think Tierney knows that and works through it with him. Let’s get a drink and go join them.”
“Speaking of … how are things with Taran?” My friend had to lean in so I could hear him over the noise of the partygoers.
I grimaced. “Not great. Limbo!”
He gave me a commiserating look. “Well, at least your sister isn’t dating that wee creep anymore.”
I side-eyed him as people greeted and let us through to get to the bar first out of courtesy and thanks for the music. “What was your problem with Greig?”
“Dunno.” Forde shrugged. “Just got bad vibes off him. Can’t explain it.”
When he wouldn’t meet my eyes, I sighed inwardly. I had my suspicions why Forde got bad vibes from Greig. Suspicions that went back to well before Greig even entered the picture. But if Forde didn’t have the balls to go after Cammie, then he didn’t deserve her. She deserved someone who would fight for her.
Like Taran deserved someone who would fight for her.
She thought I hadn’t.
And if I could admit my worst failing to myself, I knew I hadn’t. I’d chosen my fears over her. I’d regretted it ever since.
It was time to fight.
After we got our drinks, we moved through the crowds to a table at the back where Taran sat with Laird, Finella, Cammie, Tierney, Ramsay, London, and Murray. Waiters had already been out to lay platters of food in the center for people to eat from buffet style.
