Kaitlyn Dunnett - Kilt Dead

KENSINGTON BOOKS
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Copyright 2007 by Kathy Lynn Emerson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews. If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this stripped book. All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager: Attn. Special Sales Department. Kensington Publishing Corp., 850 Third Avenue, New York, NY, 10022. Phone: 1-800-221-2647. Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off. ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-1644-1 ISBN-10: 0-7582-1644-0 First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: August 2007 First Kensington Mass-Market Printing: July 2008 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Printed in the United States of America

iss MacCrimmon never felt more alive than when she was about to step onto a stage. As she waited in the wings, she drank in the essence of the theater hosting that nights performance, inhaling the mixed scents of freshly ironed costumes, stage makeup, and rosin. Even the slightly musty smell of the old velvet curtains delighted her senses.

Just behind her she could hear the soft creak of levers moving a bit stiffly on an old-fashioned light board as one of the crew tamed the antiquated system to his will. The members of Strathspey had presented their show on all sorts of stages. This venue, in a forty-year-old high school in a medium-sized town in New York State, was no worse than most and better than many.

The rest of the troupe-Americans, Canadians, and Scots bound together by their passion for Scottish dancing wedged themselves into the cramped backstage area as their introductory music blared through the sound system, effectively drowning out audience chatter. Liss had peeked out earlier. They had a good crowd, considering it was mid-week and they were in an area without a large population of Scottish descent.

The company had launched its first tour eight years earlier on the premise that those who loved the romance of bagpipes, Braveheart, and kilts would take to the idea the way the Irish, and everyone else, had embraced River dance. Strathspey-named after one of the traditional Scottish dances-had fallen far short of the phenomenal success of that show, but the troupe still managed to get bookings in small venues fifty weeks out of every year.

To Liss it didnt matter where they performed, or for how many people. She got the same tingle in her toes, the same giddy rush of pleasure and excitement, whether they were in Boston, Boise, or Boca Raton. At the age of twentyseven, she felt as much anticipation, as much enthusiasm for her career, as she had on the day she turned pro at nineteen.

Out front the recorded music came to an end. An expectant hush fell over the assembled spectators. Lisss pulse quickened and her heart beat just a little bit faster as she waited for the first stirring notes to be played on the Great Highland Bagpipe. She flexed one leg, then the other, rolled her shoulders, and took a deep breath.

The cue came right on schedule. This was it. They were on. A surge of adrenaline propelled her onto the stage.

Leading the others, Liss flowed with the music, her feet performing the intricate steps as they had thousands of times before. The rest of her body automatically assumed the familiar poses and her face wore a radiant smile. She whirled and leapt, reveling in the freedom and beauty of the dances. The company performed a variety of Scottish standards, from strathspeys and reels and jigs to sword dances and Highland flings, all woven together in a loose story of Scottish immigrants finding a new life in the New World.

When she danced, Liss was aware of nothing but the music, the other dancers, and her own joy. If she was short on sleep, or stiff from too much traveling, she could easily ignore those minor distractions. She was accustomed to performing in spite of aches and pains. Dancers lived with both day in and day out, taping up ankles and knees as necessary so the show could go on.

But this night, as Liss launched herself into the final round of step dancing, the Broadway kick-line the company counted on to bring the audience to its feet, something went terribly wrong. Her left foot came down awkwardly on the hard wooden stage. She heard a loud pop. Excruciating pain shot through her knee. If her arms hadnt been linked with those of dancers on either side, she would have collapsed.

Her smile frozen in place, Liss stumbled through the next moments of the dance, literally carried by the others until they could spirit her off stage. From the wings, while anxious members of the backstage crew got her to a chair, elevated her leg, and applied ice, Liss watched the company dance on without her. Although she knew they had no choice, she felt as if theyd abandoned her. When another wave of pain swept over her, it was deeper and more agonizing than mere physical torment. It was accompanied by the terrible fear that this injury was the one all dancers dreaded, the one that could end a career.

Impatience was Liss MacCrimmons besetting sin. As a child, shed opened her Christmas presents as soon as the brightly wrapped packages appeared beneath the tree. Even when what she was waiting for might be bad news, she always wanted to hear the worst quickly and be done with it.

She sat in Dr. Kesslers examining room, twisting a lock of dark brown, shoulder-length hair between her fingers, wishing shed brought a book with her to pass the time. She suspected shed be too fidgety to take in a single word she read, but anything was better than staring at biggerthan-life diagrams of the hand, the elbow, the knee, and the ankle.

The sound of the door opening brought her head up with a snap. Her heart sank as she read the expression on the orthopedists jowly face. He hadnt been optimistic when hed operated on her injured knee two months earlier, but shed made such a rapid recovery after surgery that shed convinced herself there was still a chance of resuming her career. Hadnt she just walked into the doctors office under her own steam and with only the hint of a limp? Shed been hoping for a green light to go back on the road with Strathspey before the summer was over.