ATOP Chapter Twelve

There was whirl of gaiety and desperate scrambling, of good cheer and predictions drear, for the clouds foretold of rain, and Mickey was gleefully insisting that Mac would be the first groom in Stewart family history to arrive at the altar disguised as a drenched Cat in a monkey suit. How Katie was to avoid a similar fate in her borrowed, blue, and otherwise splendid raiment was not elaborated upon.

In short, it was a perfect day for a wedding. 

Except for the fact that it was nearly nine o'clock and the groom was nowhere to be found.

♡♡♡

Of all days in his entire life, this was the absolutely worst one to sleep in on. What was wrong with him anyway? Going soft this soon after leaving the army? Mac jumped out of bed, furious with himself. Well... no... he didn't exactly jump. More like tried to, and then went crashing to the floor like a ton of bricks. He picked himself up ruefully, reaching for his crutches. Something really was wrong with him, surely he should be used to the whole one-legged thing by now.

"Just like Long-John Silver," he grimaced in the mirror. "All I need now is an eye patch and one o' those creepy talking parrots!"

The house was empty and this alarmed him. Why had no one at least stayed behind to wait for him... at least tell him where they were going? Wasn't this his day, after all? Surely they could be more accommodating than this!

'Twas in the midst of Mac's inner fuming that the telephone rang, and he snatched it up. 

"Mornin', Sleepyhead," Jafe's voice drawled on the other end. "Finally managed to drag your lazy carcass outta bed, eh? I told you I should've gone over with a bucket!" the last phrase was aside, as if shouted over his shoulder, and a very familiar laugh was heard in the background. Mac rolled his eyes. Torpedo was up to something.

"Where is everyone, jings crivvens, ye can't have a wedding without the groom!"

"Dinna be so sure," Jafe laughed. "I'd be happy t'take your place!"

"Are you at the Stewarts'?" Mac demanded hastily. "Is my Lintie there?"

"Course she's here, but... remember the tradition, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony!"

"Tradition be hanged, I'm coming over." Mac slammed the receiver down without waiting for an answer. 

The Stewart's house was activity central that morning, and this became more and more evident as Mac approached it. But approaching it was as far as he got. There appeared to be a rather alarming sort of welcoming party gathered in front of the porch steps.

There they were, Jafe, Josh, Ronnie, and Mickey, all with varying degrees of mischief lurking in their eyes as they stood in formation, arms linked to create a barrier. 

"We know why you're here," Josh spoke first, his tone hinting of danger. "You're attempting to break tradition."

"Not allowed, laddie," Jafe shook his head. "Not allowed. We simply cannot have this sort of thing going on, we have no choice but to save you from yourself."

"Ain't nothing keeping me from my Lintie!" Mac hollered, grinning. "Red rover, red rover, I'm coming on over!" and with that, put his head down and... charged.

The initial breakthrough was successful. He crashed right between Jafe and Josh, made it to the porch steps long enough to catch a glimpse of Katie's startled face in the window, and was dragged back by all four of his tormentors at once. 

Down they went in an inglorious heap, arms and legs flailing in every direction and loudly-uttered Gaelic exclamations drowning out any semblance of coherent speech.

Katie was on the porch now, or rather, everyone was on the porch, watching the chaos unfold. Loud cheers were added to the already ridiculous amount of noise. And trumping them all was Katie.

"Joshua Caleb Campbell-Hayes!" she screamed. "You let go of my Mac! Do you hear me, Japheth Scott? And you, Ronald Aaron Stewart, don't you dare think you're getting away with this, I hope you break your glasses! Michael James Stewart, what is WRONG with you?!"

"Lintie!" Mac yelled back, half-breathless with laughter, although why he was laughing, he wasn't exactly sure. "I'm... coming..."

"No, he is NOT." Jafe yelled back. "In the house, Katie, whilst we deal with this reprobate. It's bad luck, y'know, in the house with you!"

Katie did not budge. And seeing her, Mac fought all the harder. Trouble was, the fight was less a disorganized heap now and was becoming frighteningly organized in a frighteningly short amount of time. Before Mac knew it, he was pinned helplessly to the ground.

"Quick..." Jafe gasped. "His leg... it's the only way!"

"Aye aye, captain," Josh let go of Mac long enough to risk a salute and then followed orders farther than Mac had ever imagined orders could be followed. In spite of his kicking and yelling as the realization of what was about to happen began to sink in, his pants leg was rolled up above the knee and Josh was frowning at the straps on the wooden leg. 

"Don't you dare touch it, Torpedo," Mac cried, still attempting to struggle, although he could barely move. "That is a highly sophisticated piece of equipment!"

"Looks like a rattletrap ole' contraption to me," Josh grinned. "Easy as pie. There ya go, buddy, mission accomplished." And he passed the wooden leg to Mickey, who was off like a flash, vanishing around the corner of the house.

"That is ENOUGH!" Katie shouted, storming across the yard towards the three remaining culprits who stood laughing over their prostrate victim. 

"Idiots, every one of you," she glared poisonously at each in turn, effectively silencing the laughter. Except in Mac, who looked oddly amused by all the goings-on. "How dare you!" Katie continued. "Shame, shame... this is my special day, and you are not going to ruin it, you... you..."

"Numpty radges?" Mac suggested helpfully.

"Yes... what he said." Katie glared a moment longer, bringing the guilty into complete submission before giving further orders. "Ronnie, go after Mickey, get that leg back, you hear me? And the rest of you, BACK OFF, okay?"

They accordingly backed off. Very quickly indeed. And Katie knelt beside Mac, nurse once again, carefully checking the stump of his leg. 

"Are you alright?"

"Aye, just bonnie," Mac grinned wider. "Ain't nothing gonna ruin this day, not even packs of ravenous hyenas."

"Oh, they know better," Katie shook her head as she rose, reaching down to help Mac up. "And they haven't heard the last of this, either. See if I let them have any wedding cake! Here, lean on me. Can't stay out here, it's gonna rain."

 Ronnie spoke up gravely.

“Deprived of wedding cake or no, sis, he’s not going in the house. Him seeing you outside is one thing, but into the house he shall not go.” A mischievous twinkle had crept into his eyes, though his voice echoed a solemnity many a judge would be proud to lay claim to. A slight nod was aimed at of one of the participants in the recently conducted hurly-burly, and said participant vanished after the fashion of Mickey and the mistreated artificial limb. Ronnie continued as if nothing had happened.

“No, I’m afraid he’s had all he’s going to have of you until you come down that aisle in all your glory and fine feathers.” 

He accordingly pulled Mac away from Katie and, having but one leg, Mac had no choice but to go along or collapse again... and collapsing wasn't much fun. Katie sputtered in indignation as Emma slipped an arm around her shoulder laughingly. 

“He’s right, you know. Yours is the first proper wedding since Mom and Dad’s, so it stands to reason that we do it up with all the traditions and bows the rest of us forwent.” 

She guided Katie firmly towards the house, adding as she went, “besides, with all the time we’re gonna need for your hair and dressing, you don’t have time for men anyway!”

Katie did not look as though she particularly agreed.

♡♡♡

Ronnie and Josh shoved the barn doors closed, and swung a large latch into place almost before Mac had time to realize that they were now on different sides of the door, and thus further struggles were unnecessary. This had been a premeditated act on their part, and so smoothly executed was it that they spent the greater part of the day congratulating themselves on it, much to the chagrin of Mac, who had been much too busy fighting and simultaneously keeping his eyes pinned on Katie—not an easy feat on the best of days, and that on two full legs—to have intercepted flying messages, let alone decoded them. This rankled.

He heard them getting farther away by the second, and one of them plea-bargaining with a highly indignant Katie. This appeared to be Ronnie, who was attempting the roles of Big Brother and peacemaker in tandem. Not, it would seem, destined to any great success. 

He kicked the wall with a jarring thud that nearly shook the floor, and fell headlong into a mound of hay as the echo rung. This was not a very efficient way to do things. They had forgotten to give him his leg back. 

What's more, he had forgotten they had forgotten to give him his leg back, and that was why he fell. Never kick with one leg, that was the moral. Some moral. He’d rather have his Katie back than his leg, not that he’d gotten to have her. He scowled viciously at nothing in particular. All in all, it was a rotten deal. He had no leg, straw in his hair, and no Lintie. This had gone south faster that Canadian Geese in October. 

A voice spoke up out of the darkness, and Mac jerked into something that had a semblance of a sitting position about it. 

“Take it easy, why dontcha, lad. They’ll let you out when they’re good and ready, and in the meantime, there’s no sense getting all worked up about it.”

A face grinned suddenly out of the darkness to Mac’s right, and he gave a start as the rest of the person belonging to it slid itself out of a stall. 

It was Jafe. Mac glared at him irritably. 

“Take it easy, eh? Oh yeah, I bet you’d take it easy alright. Standing in my shoes—“ and he glanced down, ruefully. “—SHOE, that is—“ He broke off again, suddenly curious in all his irritability. “Hey, how come you don’t, Unc’? Get married yourself and see how “easy” YOU think it is.” 

Jafe laughed a deep, rumbling laugh, comfortably ignoring questions and accusations both neatly, and going straight for the root of the problem. It was a bent with him. 

“Aye, easy, I said. You’ve got the rest of your life to spend with your Lintie-girl, Macko, both your days put together in one package…. Trust me, a few hours won’t do any great damage.” His voice turned the slightest shade towards wistful, and he shook his head as if clearing cobwebs from it. Today was a day to be spent in the present, not the past. A spark of something between resolve to put said past away in a drawer,  and a twinkling of sudden remembrance lit his eyes, not that Mac could see it, and came out in words that broadly framed the latter half of the aforementioned. He hesitated for a moment before bringing it out. 

This was a conversation Duncan would properly have been starting. Properly, because that was the only way Duncan ever did things…. Made him feel like a kid trying to step into his Papa’s overshoes, even attempting it. But somebody had to, anybody with half an eye could see that…. There was more wrong with Mac than traditions and missing Katie for one morning. And it was the hole that had seemed to mend outwardly over the past five years, now gaping where the stitches could not hold. He needed a dad today, and all he had was an uncle. Not much of a foundation to build on. 

He stiffened his back and raised his chin determinedly. If an uncle was what was to be had, mostly big brother or no, he was gonna take a crack at it. Might regret it later, depending how it turned out, but he’d try. Reaching into the stall suddenly, he pulled out what could be nothing other than the kidnapped limb, and settled himself in the straw beside Mac as the latter fell to work with the buckles. There was a breath of silence before he began his mission. 

“I ever tell you the story of how your Dad brought his Miss Marjorie home, Mackie?”

A small grey kitten wound itself around Mac’s good leg as he worked, and he picked it up, fondling it absentmindedly. It clambered its way onto his shoulder obligingly, and entertained itself by flicking its tail at Mac’s nose. Mac did not appear to notice. What he did do was stare at Jafe.

“Not much. Letter once during the war, you brought it up…. Said to bring home a nice little souvenir if I ever found the right one, too.” He laughed suddenly. “Y’know, that was pretty good advice. Glad I took it.” 

A wistful note crept into his voice, and his laughter subsided into a somber remembrance. “Da never was one to talk about anything that personal. Wish I’d….” He twisted to look at Jafe. “He really did love her, didn’t he?” He spoke consideringly. “Used to think they had a secret language sometimes, like Morse Code, because I never could catch them talking at it.” The scar on his forehead twisted as his forehead became a map of wrinkles in his concentration. 

Jafe chuckled softly. “ Oh, he loved her alright, laddie. He didn’t say it in words, maybe, but the eyes of him had a way of shining at her across rooms so’s you’d swear there were telegraph wires strung between them….”

Mac was staring at him, drinking it in like water in a drought, and Jafe grinned suddenly. 

“Aye, ye come from a long line of love, boy. The Scott men may not all have been great hands at showing it, but ones to marry without love in the bargain they’ve never been." Jafe slapped him lightly on the back. “Tell ya what, Mackie. Sit tight and play statue, I got me a load of imparting to do. So listen good." He lowered his brows menacingly, just to keep the moment from becoming too sappy. It worked, and he settled himself so as to keep the kitten, who had taken a flying leap off Mac’s shoulder, from climbing the back of his shirt. There was a short pause as he gathered his words thoughtfully.

“Yer da sat me down one time, gave me a solid lecture…. At least, I thought it was a lecture. But the point is, he told me three things. Secrets of the Scott’s, he said.” He sank back into the straw, remembering. What he didn't say was that this had been just before he proposed to a "Katie" of his own, ten years ago. But Mac didn’t need to know that.

Mac, as if hearing his name echoed in Jafe’s thoughts, raised an eyebrow at him. "Secrets of the Scott’s, eh? What’s that, best way to train a bird dog? How t’ seal a boat so it never leaks again?”

Jafe chuckled. “Not exactly, Sonny. Now listen up, ‘cause one of these days ye’re gonna be saying these words yourself. And I’m only saying it once.” Mac made a show of zipping his mouth.

“Secret Number One. Tell her you love her every day of your life. And don’t just say the words.”

Mac grinned. This was gonna be easy. Not immune to the solemnity of the Passing Of The Secrets, he nodded solemnly, but even that wasn’t enough keep the twinkle of joyous disbelief out of his eyes. HIS Katie, that’s what she was gonna be. For always and as long as their Forever lasted. He wished two o'clock would hurry up and get here. If he could just get at his suit...