Page 103 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Whatever it takes, he kept reminding himself. And then he'd catch a glimpse of Jamie, her face alight with pride and love, and he'd dig in his heels for the next competition.

The stone put. They heaved sixteen-pound rocks using a technique similar to the shot-put. Gavin won that event. Next, the weight throw. A block of metal weighing almost thirty pounds, attached to a wooden handle by a length of chain. His shoulders ached after three rounds of that event — and Rory bested him.

Score: Gavin, two. Rory, one.

No room for pride here. Gavin sucked it up and kept going, even when Rory's wife flung herself at her husband and kissed him so wildly some of the crowd blushed.

Why didn't those two find a room? They owned a castle with more rooms in it than Gavin could count on both hands.

Next up, weight for height. They each slung a rock that must've weighed fifty pounds over a horizontal pole. After each round, the pole was raised until, finally, only one of them remained.

To his credit, Rory didn't crow about his second win. He congratulated Gavin on a good match.

Score: Gavin, two. Rory, two.

Then came the caber toss.

Rory hefted his caber from the ground to an upright position without any help, despite the fact the caber was thirty feet long. He heaved it end over end across the green until it whacked down fifty feet away. Gavin, loath to seem weaker than Rory when so much was at stake, insisted on hoisting his caber the same way Rory had done. He almost dropped it once but waved away Iain when his friend seemed determined to assist.

Gavin lifted the caber and heaved it into the air.

Fifty-two feet.

Score: Rory, two. Gavin, three.

When Rory offered Gavin his hand, Gavin accepted the firm shake. Rory seemed as spry as ever, but Gavin resisted the impulse to massage his aching muscles. He liked to think of himself as in good shape, but he'd overlooked the caber-tossing practice in his workout regimen.

"You've done well," Rory told him without inflection. "But we have one more event."

More? Gavin suppressed a groan.Doing this for Jamie, remember?

If he couldn't walk tomorrow, maybe she'd give him a full-body massage. There were perks to getting stove up.

Rory raised his arms straight up in the air and hollered, "Tug-of-war!"

Gavin's jaw slackened, and he stopped blinking. Was Rory serious? The two of them playing tug-of-war like kids on the playground?

Not quite, as it turned out.

During the lull when Lachlan and Rory went to fetch the rope for this event, Aidan explained that normally the two teams of MacTaggarts took up opposite ends of the rope, four men on each side. But with Gavin here, they would change up the rules. It would be the Three Macs versus Gavin, Iain, and Tavish the gardener. Seriously. The gray-haired guy who tended the rose bushes would fill out Gavin's team.

Rory had his two huge brothers on his side.

And Gavin had the gardener.

When they took up their positions along the rope, Gavin glanced at Tavish. The old guy was nice and all, but he looked so small compared to the Three Macs.

Iain noticed Gavin eying the gardener. He leaned in close to Gavin and whispered, "You have a bad habit of underestimating people, yourself included."

"Therapy later," Gavin hissed under his breath. "Beat Rory now."

"Beat Rory? Not worried about Lachlan or Aidan anymore, eh?"

Gavin grumbled.

Catriona moseyed to the center of the rope between the two teams. She raised an orange flag high above her head. "Ready. Set. Go!"

She slashed the flag downward.

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