Текст книги "Charmed by His Love"
Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
bent down to get her face right in Peg’s. “So the next time
Duncan MacKeage steals a kiss, you either kiss the pants
off him or punch him in the bel y. And when I get back in two
months,” she growled, the look in her eyes making Peg
lean away, “if I find you stil lying in Bil y’s casket instead of
Duncan’s bed, I swear I’m going to show you a whole other
kind of magic that’s going to make your family curse look
like a blessing.”
Peg ran trembling fingers through her hair when Olivia
turned and headed to intercept the children as they ran
toward the huge RV parked next to the lodge. Okay, then;
she guessed she knew how her friend felt, now didn’t she?
Peg looked at Duncan standing with his arms folded over
his chest glaring at Mac, and damn if her insides didn’t
suddenly clench and her mouth go dry and her heart start
pounding so hard she thought she just might pass out.
“What do ye mean you can’t help me find out what’s going
on?” Duncan asked as he glared at Mac. “You’re a damned
‘divine agent of human affairs’; it’s your job to help us poor,
struggling mortals.”
“I gave my word not to use the magic for a while.”
“Gave it to whom?”
“My wife.”
Duncan snorted. “Tel Olivia her friend is in danger. I’m
sure she remembers Peg Thompson, the woman whose
problem she commanded me to fix—which I did.”
Mac shoved his hands in his pockets. “I also vowed to
Providence that I would give the good people of Maine time
to recover from my little … event.”
“So you turn an entire state upside down and then just
disappear for a couple of months while the dust settles?
Tel me, Oceanus; if you protect the drùidhs who protect the
Trees of Life, then who in hel protects us from you?”
The wizard shot him a grin. “Whoever has the brain and
brawn and skil —and courage—to take me on.”
“I believe you left out one important requirement,
because whoever that idiot is would also need some
powerful magic.”
“Have you even gone to visit your mountain?”
“How? Swim? Somebody shoved it on the other side of a
damned fiord.”
Mac arched a brow. “I thought at the time you were
making an unwise choice, but then I assumed there was a
reason you wished to be off the beaten path.” He grinned
again. “I guess you’re going to need a boat. I do believe my
grandfather-in-law has boats to rent. Though come to think
of it,” he said, his grin disappearing, “you could probably
buy a yacht with what you’re charging me to build fourteen
miles of road and five timberbridges.”
Duncan looked in the direction of Mac’s glance and saw
Olivia herding Henry and Sophie up the stairs of the RV as
Peg’s children stood waving at them, and Peg—Duncan
frowned to see her sitting on the lodge steps, hugging
herself as she stared at him. He looked back at Mac. “Talk
to your wife about what I’m charging, as she’s the one
insisting the road looks as if it’s been there since the
beginning of time and that I seed its edges with wildflowers.
And building timber bridges is an art.”
The wizard placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go visit your
mountain, Duncan, and sit in silence and feel the power it
wants to give you.” He shook his head. “There is one smal
thing standing in your way of claiming it, though. Wel ,
maybe two things. First is your refusal to accept that you
even have a cal ing, much less your wil ingness to own it.”
Mac’s hand on his shoulder tightened when Duncan
snorted. “And two,” the wizard continued, the look in his
eyes making Duncan go very stil , “the … instrument of that
power is hidden somewhere on your mountain, but when
you do find it I’m afraid you may not actual y be able to
reach it.”
“Christ, is there a reason ye can’t just come out and say
what you’re trying to say and not speak in riddles?”
Mac shoved his hands in his pockets again. “Even I must
fol ow the rules, MacKeage.” His grin returned. “But that
doesn’t mean I can’t bend them to give a couple of contrary
mortals a nudge in the right direction. So back to your
mountain; if you wish to claim your power, you’re going to
have to bring along someone to help you. Say, someone
with less broad shoulders and much smal er hands,” he
said, looking toward the lodge steps.
Duncan stiffened again. “If she doesn’t think I’m crazy
now, she sure as hel wil when I ask her to please help me
get … what? A staff? Amulet? Gemstone?” He snorted. “A
bottomless satchel of bunny rabbits?”
“Your father found a way to ease your mother into the
magic. Maybe you should ask Cal um to help you with Peg.”
“Or maybe I’l just ask yourfather to help me protect your
resort while you’re off on vacation. I believe your buddies in
Midnight Bay know how to reach Titus.”
“Good luck with that, my friend,” Mac said with a chuckle.
“It was Dad’s idea to send you on this quest, claiming the
kind of power you’re about to receive must be fought for to
be appreciated.” He placed his hand on Duncan’s shoulder
again. “It was my idea, however, that you not be able to do
it all by yourself, by requiring you to ask a mere slip of a
woman to help you claim your … prize.”
Duncan’s chest tightened to the point that al he could
do was glare.
Mac gave his shoulder a hearty slap. “I’l be back in two
months, eager to drive my wife up our road so we can wave
across the fiord at our new neighbors,” he said with a laugh,
sprinting to the RV. “Godspeed, MacKeage.”
Duncan stood staring after him, wondering if he shouldn’t
just climb in his pickup and run a gauntlet of road-stupid
moose back to Pine Creek and stay there.
God dammit, he hadn’t done one thing to deserve this.
And dammit again, neither had Peg.
Duncan reclined on his elbow in front of the smal campfire
as he frowned down the hil side at Peg’s house, undecided
if he liked what Alec was tel ing him or not. “Ye hired Peg’s
mother and aunt to cook for us?” he repeated, sliding his
gaze to Alec. “Before I gave my approval?”
“I tel ye, those two women can cook,” Alec said, looking
to Robbie for support. “Tel him how I caught you licking
your plate clean.”
Robbie shot Duncan a grin. “They definitely can cook.
And they both seem to understand the number of calories a
working man needs at the end of a day. I swear the steaks
they served us were a pound and a half each. Sam Dalton
ate two.”
Duncan snorted. “More like they understand how much
butter to spread around a job interview to get hired. So,” he
said, looking from one man to the other. “Is Peg’s mother
anything like she is?”
“Ye mean smart and capable,” Alec drawled, “or sassy-
mouthed trouble?”
“I mean, am I going to have to put mittens and blinders on
my crew three times a day?” He shook his head. “I hadn’t
planned on having females in camp.”
“I’m certain Jeanine and Bea can handle our crews,”
Robbie said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find
a shotgun standing in the corner of your camp kitchen,
along with a bottle of liquid gold.”
Alec sat up. “I thought I saw Bea dosing the beans with
something, and I swear I tasted a hint of Scotch.” He looked
at Duncan and grinned. “Ye suppose Peg told them you like
a little nip in the morning?” He suddenly sobered. “I’m afraid
there’s a bit of a problem with my hiring them, though. It
seems Peg’s not al that pleased.”
It was Duncan’s turn to sit up. “Why?”
“I overheard her tel ing her mother that some people in
town are targeting anyone who’s working on the resort
road.”
“What else?” he asked when he saw Alec’s face darken.
“Did Peg tel you what happened to her van?”
“She said it was taking a long, wel -deserved nap. And
she told me to tel you that if anyone gives her mom or aunt
any trouble, she’s ripping up your agreement and chaining
off the pit.”
“So she wasthreatened.” Duncan looked at Robbie. “Did
ye find the van?”
Robbie shook his head. “Nay, I even drove several tote
roads between here and Turtleback Station, and quietly
asked around in both towns while keeping an eye out for
the car that brought her to Inglenook, but I couldn’t find any
trace of the van using conventional methods.”
Duncan gazed into the fire. “And unconventional
methods?” he asked quietly.
“Apparently this is a no-magic zone,” Robbie said just as
quietly.
Duncan lifted his head in surprise. “Is that even
possible?”
“I hadn’t thought so. But no matter what I tried, I couldn’t
do a damned thing. Hel , I had to use a lighter to start our
campfire tonight.” He canted his head. “It’s as if the energy I
kept trying to cal forth was—and apparently stil is—
sleeping. It’s here; I can definitely feel it, but I can’t seem to
roust it.”
Duncan stiffened. “Do you think it’s just in this area, or
everywhere?”
“I final y grew frustrated enough to cal both Ian and
Winter yesterday, and they’re not having any problems.”
Robbie gestured toward the fiord. “It only seems to be
around Bottomless.” He shrugged. “Maybe Mac turned it
dormant.”
“But you’re a Guardian; you’re immune to a drùidh’s
magic because it’s your job to protect us from them.”
“Mac’s a theurgist, not a drùidh,” Robbie thought to
explain. “With Providence’s blessing thousands of years
ago, Titus Oceanus built Atlantis on which to cultivate his
Trees of Life to protect mankind from the warring gods. He
then trained a handful of men to be drùidhs to protect the
Trees he eventual y scattered al over the world, only to
realize he needed to instal Guardians to safeguard the
people from the drùidhs. Titus and Maximilian—and
eventual y Henry—are at the top of the hierarchy.” He shook
his head. “Even de Gairn would be powerless here.”
“For Christ’s sakes, why would Mac turn off the magic
and then walk away?”
Robbie’s deep gray eyes looked directly into Duncan’s. “I
doubt he walked away without leaving some means to
awaken it. Mind explaining to me why he suggested I tel
you to go see your mountain beforeal hel breaks loose?
And that you remember to bring along someone with less
broad shoulders and smal er hands?”
“You have a mountain?” Alec asked in surprise. “Like Ian
has TarStone now?”
Duncan dropped his head in his hands. “It appears so.”
“Which one?” Alec asked.
He gestured toward the fiord without lifting his head.
“That one over there.” He final y looked up, his gaze going
from Alec to Robbie. “The other day when we were up the
mountain, Mac told me to pick one and its power would be
mine to command.” He gestured across the fiord again.
“And being an angry idiot at the time, I pointed over there
when Mac threatened to choose one for me—in whatever
centuryhe decided.”
“Sweet Christ,” Alec murmured, looking at the dark
shadow looming into the night sky across the fiord. “He just
up and gave you a mountain?”
Robbie turned his fire-lit gaze to Duncan. “Did he say
why?”
“I didn’t exactly dare ask at the time, but he was muttering
something about my refusal to acknowledge my cal ing
eventual y destroying me.”
“What cal ing?” Alec asked.
Duncan snorted. “Hel if I know.”
“What do you suppose Mac meant about your needing to
take along someone with less broad shoulders and smal er
hands?” Robbie asked, even as he looked down the
hil side at Peg’s house. He looked back at Duncan and
smiled. “Does our resident wizard have a matchmaker’s
heart?”
“Doesn’t every newly married bastard want every
bachelor he knows to join him in wedded bliss?”
“But if you do claim your cal ing, how are you going to
explain the magic to Peg?” Alec asked. He suddenly
grinned. “Ye might want to have a length of rope with you
when ye do. I believe Hamish has one that he no longer
needs.”
“You should at least make sure she’s not armed,” Robbie
said with a chuckle, only to sit up when Duncan eyed him
speculatively. “Nay, ye wil not.”
“Didn’t you tel me that when ye took old Uncle Ian back
to his original time and spent several weeks trying to steal
the taproot of de Gairn’s Tree of Life, that you were only
gone overnight in thistime?” Duncan asked. “Sunset to
sunrise, right, which is what … a little less than eleven hours
this time of year?”
Robbie suddenly relaxed, folding his arms over his chest
to lean back against the log. “You’re forgetting that Mac put
the magic to sleep.”
“But what if I can wake it back up? Ian told us that he was
able to take Jessie back to the night she was nearly
murdered; what if I find my power and then use it to buy
myself several days alone with Peg? That would give me
time to work some of my own magic on her,” he said with a
grin. “And she’d only be away from her kids overnight.”
“But she would feel as if she were away from them for
several days,” Robbie growled. “And it was al she could
do last Wednesday to be separated from Pete and Jacob
for a couple of hours.” He shook his head. “Ye can’t
manipulate the magic like that, Duncan—assuming you can
get hold of it.”
Duncan lay back on his sleeping bag with a heavy sigh.
“Wel , gentlemen, it appears I need a boat.” He folded his
hands behind his head and stared toward the looming
shadow of his mountain. “I came here to build a road and
five timber bridges, not go to war with a bunch of vil age
idiots, so would one of you please tel me what in hel I did
to deserve this?”
Chapter Fourteen
Just because she had every intention of discouraging
Duncan from desiring her didn’t mean she didn’t want to be
as pretty as possible doing it. But it appeared the best she
could do was look like a dowdy old widow, since her entire
wardrobe consisted of jeans and sweatshirts except for a
couple of funeral and wedding outfits. And although the
funeral dress might be appropriate for how she was feeling,
it wouldn’t be al that practical for a picnic on a mountain in
Maine in mid-April. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even
bought herself a new jacket in four years.
Hel , instead of discouraging Duncan, she was
depressing herself.
“Mom, it’s almost ten,” Charlotte said from the bedroom
door. “You spent al morning getting us ready and now
you’re not even dressed.”
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Of course you do,” Charlotte said, rushing to the bureau.
She pul ed out a navy sweatshirt and soft pink turtleneck
and thrust them at Peg. “The dark blue makes your eyes
look big, and the pink looks soft and feminine.” She
shrugged. “And jeans go with everything. And here,” she
said, opening the jewelry box on the bureau. “Wear your
smal gold hoops and leave your hair down so it wisps
around your face.”
Peg clutched the tops to her chest and spun away when
she felt her eyes start to sting. “You don’t wear earrings to a
stupid picnic,” she muttered, dropping the sweatshirt to pul
the turtleneck on over her head.
“It’s not a stupid picnic,” her daughter said softly, touching
her back. “It’s the closest thing you’ve had to a date since
Daddy died.”
Peg stil ed with the shirt covering her face. “It’s not a
date. It’s not even close. It’s just … a picnic.”
Charlotte finished pul ing the turtleneck down from
behind, then picked up the sweatshirt and handed it to her.
“Can’t we just pretend it’s sort of a date?” the girl
whispered. “Just between you and me?”
Peg pul ed the sweatshirt on over her head, pressing it to
her face to wipe the tears spil ing free. “Damn, Charlie, no. I
don’t want you … Look, you can’t get your hopes up, okay?
I’m not going … Nothing’s going to come of Duncan and
me, baby.”
The sweatshirt was pul ed down from behind. “Okay, I
won’t get my hopes up. But wil you wear the earrings
anyway? For yourself?” Charlotte walked around and
smiled up at her, one corner of her mouth higher than the
other as she held out the earrings. “Just so Dun—Mr.
Duncan wil see what he’s gonna be missing when nothing
comes of the two of you?”
Peg took the earrings and tried her damnedest for an I-
mean-business scowl. “I’m locking you in your room until
you’re twenty for even thinking that way at eight.”
“I’m nearly nine,” the girl said, walking to the door. She
stopped and looked back. “And if you think I’m bad now,
you just wait until I’m sixteen. Grammy’s already told me al
the tricks you used to pul on her, and she promised to help
me come up with new ones. Wear the earrings.” She made
a face. “But no perfume, okay? Everything you got is so old,
it probably smel s like skunk pee.”
That said, the girl was gone before Peg could even get
her scowl back in place, so she walked to her bureau and
started to drop the earrings in the box, only to close her fist
around them instead. She pul ed her hair out of her col ar
with a sigh as she stared at herself in the mirror,
remembering Olivia saying that kids did what they were
shown, not what they were told. So what was she showing
Charlie today? That she should look like a frumpy old
sexless widow so Duncan wouldn’t mistake her for a
woman?
Wear them for yourself, the nearly-nine-year-old had said.
So when in hel had Charlie gotten smarter than her?
Because damn if the dark blue didn’t make her eyes look
bigger and the pink look feminine. And just when, Peg
wondered, was she going to crawl out of Bil y’s casket?
It took her several tries to slip the tiny hoops on because
her fingers were trembling, and when she took a deep
breath and tugged on the hem of her sweatshirt, she didn’t
know what in hel she looked like because the image in the
mirror was al blurry. Damn; desiring Duncan was messing
with her hormones.
“Um, Mom?” Charlotte cal ed out at the same time the
twins started whooping. “You better get out here.”
Frowning at the eight-year-old excitement she heard in
Charlotte’s voice, Peg ran into the living room to find al four
of her children kneeling on the couch, staring out the
window. Wel , the girls were kneeling; the twins were
jumping up and down, whooping louder with each jump.
“Horses!” Jacob cried. “He brung the horses!”
“We’re riding up the mountain!” Peter shouted. “Mom.
Mom! We’re gonna ride the horses to our picnic!”
Over her dead body. Peg ran to the door and threw it
open to see Duncan riding one of the monstrous horses
she’d seen in the trailer, leading two more monstrous
horses wearing saddles. She ran down the steps, stopping
and spinning back around at the bottom and pointing a
finger. “You stay on the deck,” she growled to the children
fol owing her. “And stop that noise before you scare the
horses.”
“It’s going to take more than hol ering to scare these
gentle beasts,” Duncan said from right behind her.
Peg turned, came nose to nose with a horse, and
scrambled backward up the steps, having to grab Jacob
when she bumped into him—al while shaking her head.
“We’re not riding those … monsters,” she said, glaring at
Duncan when he dismounted.
“It’s the only way up the mountain, Peg, unless ye want to
walk. But it would take so long we’d have to turn around and
start back down just as soon as we reached the top. The
old tote road ends a good four miles short of the summit.”
“But … but …” She waved at the horses that had al
crowded up to the deck to stretch their heads over the
railing trying to reach the children—which Peg protectively
pul ed back with her. “How … Who’s going to …”
Duncan laughed. “The girls can ride old Forget-me-not,
you and Pete can ride Lilac, and Jacob can ride with me on
Daisy.”
Peg pul ed her daughters against her sides, squishing
the boys. “The girls can’t ride a horse al by themselves,”
she said, hearing her voice rise with her panic.
Duncan turned serious. “They’re completely safe on
Forget-me-not, as she’s a veteran heathen mount. Al three
of them are, which is why I asked Robbie to bring these
particular ones. They’re his, actual y.”
“You had him trailer horses al the way here just for our
picnic?”
He nodded. “Aye, but also for myself.” His grin returned. “I
was getting tired of hiking the mountain every time I needed
to work on the road layout. Robbie and Alec wil use them
this summer, too.” He sobered again. “They’re perfectly
safe, Peg. And Charlotte told me she rode horses when
she visited Sophie during Inglenook’s summer sessions.
She can handle Forget-me-not.”
“But …” Peg took a deep breath. “But I’ve been on a
horse maybe twice in my entire life—a normal-sized
horse.”
“Please, Mom,” Jacob said, craning his neck to look up
at her. “They’re real y nice. And they like us ’cause we
brushed them.”
“They liked it when I got under and brushed their bel ies,”
Peter added, making Peg squeeze him in horror.
She heard Duncan sigh. “Wil ye at least give the horses
and your children a chance to prove themselves? I would
never do anything to endanger your kids, Peg. We’re
almost legendary in the state for our gentle mares, and the
children of our clan start riding before they even walk.”
“I know how to ride, Mom,” Charlotte said. “And you’l
catch on real quick.”
Jacob tugged on her sweatshirt. “I’l ride with you if you
want, Mom,” he whispered. “And I’l sit in front and you can
hold on to me if you’re afraid of fal ing off.”
Oh God, Jacobwas reassuring her? When had he gotten
so brave?
Oh, that’s right; when he’d started hanging around big
strong men.
Peg blew out a sigh. “Okay, I guess we can give it a try.”
“Whoopee!” Jacob and Peter shouted, jumping up and
down.
And to Peg’s surprise, none of the horses flinched. In
fact, one of them reached its big nose toward Jacob, and it
was al Peg could do not to pul him back when she saw his
tiny hand inches from its mouth. “Um, how are we going to
carry al our stuff?”
Duncan gestured at the sacks tied on al three saddles
even as his eyes lit with humor. “If it doesn’t fit, then we
don’t need it. We’re going for the day, not a week.”
“I know that,” she said, turning away. “Come on, guys,
help me get our things.”
“This is going to be the best day ever,” Isabel said,
running ahead of her. “The only way it could be better was if
Henry was going so I could ride with him.”
Peg ushered the others on ahead, but stopped when
Duncan cal ed her name.
“Where’s your new truck?” he asked, looking around, his
eyes turning serious again when he looked back at her.
“Please tel me it’s not taking a long nap.”
She’d cal ed Duncan’s mother the minute they’d returned
from Inglenook yesterday, and Peg had discovered that
Charlotte MacKeage could be just as strong-minded as her
son. The woman had persuaded Peg to use the truck until
she and Cal um got there later this week and signed the
title over, assuring her it was ful y insured and that she
preferred Peg drove it instead of Duncan because … wel ,
had she seen the man’s pickup? “The kids and I cleaned
out a spot in the garage for it yesterday afternoon, so it
doesn’t get covered in al the dust you’re stirring up in the
pit.”
“I’l keep the road watered when we’re hauling. And Peg?
Thank you.”
“For?”
He lifted the reins he was holding. “For not making us
walk those last four miles.” His eyes lit with something she
couldn’t quite identify. “And for not making me have to hunt
you down this morning,” he said quietly.
Not real y sure if he was joking or not, Peg mutely
nodded and turned away, walking inside to the sound of his
soft laughter.
“How about if for today we forget the ‘mister’ and you al cal
me Duncan?”
“Mom’s not going to like that,” Isabel said, giving him a
pretty impressive scowl.
“Your mom’s taking today off and she left me in charge,
so I guess that means I get to make the rules.”
“So when the day’s al done we gotta go back to Mom’s
rules and cal you Mr. Duncan again?” Jacob asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“What other rules you got?” Pete asked, eyeing him
suspiciously.
“Wel , when my tribe back in Pine Creek goes on a
picnic, al the little heathens have to catch their own dinner.”
Isabel gasped. “You got a tribe of kids just like us?”
“No, not of my own,” Duncan said with a chuckle. “I was
referring to my cousin’s children. And we cal ourselves a
clan, which is the same thing as a tribe. So, are you al up
for a little fishing?”
“I’m not sticking no slimy worm on no hook,” Isabel said,
back to scowling—until she suddenly beamed him a big
smile and damn if she didn’t bat her lashes. “But if you
baited the hook for me, M—Duncan, then I could catch my
dinner. I love trout.”
“Sorry, but it’s every man and woman for themselves
when it comes to fishing,” he said, making sure to hide his
smile when she went back to scowling. “So I hope you’re
not real hungry.”
“I ain’t afraid of no worms,” Pete said. He suddenly
gasped. “Hey, can I say ain’ttoday if you’re making the
rules?”
Aw, hel ; he hadn’t real y anticipated that particular
problem. “I suppose you can,” he said with a nod, “if you
don’t mind sounding like you’re only four years old.”
“He is four years old,” Isabel said, stil scowling. “And so
is Jacob.”
Lord, that one was going to be trouble for her future
husband. “Real y?” He looked from Jacob to Pete and
shook his head. “I’d swear they were older, because they
usual y talk and act like they’re at least six.”
“ I’msix,” Isabel growled. But then she smiled smugly.
“And I don’t say ain’t.”
“We’re gonna be five in …” Jacob looked at his oldest
sister. “How many months until our birthday?”
“Three,” Charlotte said. She glanced up at the ledge
where Peg was reading, then looked at Duncan with the
same serious blue eyes as her mother. “Are al the men in
your clan big like you and Alec and Robbie? And strong
swimmers who can go in ice-cold water like you did the
other day?”
Figuring where this was headed, Duncan nodded. “We
al started swimming in cold mountain ponds around your
ages.”
“Girls, too?” Isabel asked.
“Wel , the girls like to wait until the water warms up a bit.”
“They must be bass, not trout.”
“Do the men in your clan live long enough to get … old?”
Charlotte asked.
Duncan stil ed, just now realizing that instead of heading
where he thought, the conversation for Charlotte was more
about … Sweet Christ, had Peg toldthe girl about her
family curse? “Yes,” he said quietly, “we have many
clansmen wel into their seventies and eighties, including
the women. In fact,” he said, standing up, “when you meet
my parents later this week, I think you’l be surprised to
know Dad’s eighty-two and my mom—whose name also
happens to be Charlotte—is seventy-nine, because they
look and act a lot younger.” He touched a finger to his lips
and gave Charlotte a wink. “But let’s not tel Mom that I
mentioned her age, okay?”
Stil utterly serious, Charlotte nodded.
“We don’t got no fishing poles,” Pete said, jumping to his
feet. “So how we gonna fish?”
Somewhat relieved to be off the subject of longevity,
Duncan gestured around them. “We have an entire forest of
fishing poles, so I guess al we need is some string and a
couple of hooks.” He bent down and dug through the sack
he’d brought and pul ed out a smal tin box. “Good thing I
brought some gear along on the off chance we didn’t care
for whatever your mom packed for our picnic.”
“But where we gonna fish?” Isabel asked. “We’re on top
of the mountain.”
“We seen a bunch of brooks on the ride here,” Jacob
said. “Trout live in brooks. We can go fish in one of them.”
“The last one we crossed was pretty far away,” Charlotte
said, glancing toward her mother, then back at Duncan. “It’s
the first time I’ve seen Mom reading a book in months, and
she looks real comfortable.”
This one, Duncan decided, was going to cause a
different kind of trouble for her husband, and he hoped the
poor bastard was as astute as he was lucky. “I happen to
know there’s a high-mountain pond just a quarter mile from
here,” he said, nodding over his shoulder. “So how about
you go ask your mom if she’s okay with us doing a little
fishing while she reads? Or,” he said when the girl
hesitated, “you can stay here if you’re uncomfortable
leaving her alone.”
“Mom’s not afraid to be alone,” Charlotte said as she
turned and started up the ledge. “But I’l ask her if it’s okay if
we go fishing.”
“Tel her we’l share our trout,” Pete said, “so she don’t
got to go hungry if she don’t catch her own.” He looked up
at Duncan. “You ai—is—aren’t gonna make Mom fol ow
your clan rules, are you?”
“Not today, I won’t,” Duncan said with a chuckle. “Now,
about those fishing poles; we’l make them the same height
as each of you, so if you see a perfect stick on our hike, you
tel me and I’l cut it.”
Charlotte came running back. “Mom said okay, but that
you might want to take your sword,” the girl said deadpan,
although her eyes were aglow with laughter.
“That might be wise,” he agreed, going over to the
horses and pul ing off his sword. He slid it on over his
shoulders and turned and smiled at the gaping children.
Wel , everyone was gaping but Charlotte; she just looked …
Now why should wearing his sword make her appear
relieved? “Okay, Thompson tribe,” he said, heading toward
the trees. “Let’s go catch us some dinner.”
Peg bit her lower lip watching Duncan disappear into the
woods with his band of merry young men and women, and
wondered if he honestly didn’t realize there was a reason
she cal ed them little heathens. She wasn’t worried about
anything happening to them because she was pretty sure
Duncan was carrying his hero’s badge—and his sword, for
crying out loud. She couldn’t believe he’d real y taken it with
him; she’d told Charlie to tel him that as a joke. But now
she was feeling guilty about lounging here in peaceful bliss;
because real y, what had the poor unsuspecting chump
done to deserve her foisting the children off on him for the
afternoon?
Oh, wait, that’s right; he kept stealing kisses even after
she told him to stop. And worse, he kept making her lay in
her lonely bed at night desiringhim.
Speaking of kisses, it had been years since she’d felt as
alive as she had the night those idiots had tried to
sabotage the equipment. Lord, she’d missed having a
rousing fight with a man. There was nothing that made her
heart thump like a good argument if she happened to know
she was safe to say and do just about anything. Like …
wel , like stomp on a guy’s foot and hightail it into the dark
even though she knew he was going to catch her.
Honest to God, she’d felt seventeen years old again.
Peg closed her book, lay down, and laced her fingers
over her bel y with a sigh. She figured the only reason she’d
dared stomp on Duncan’s foot—considering he’d just
threatened to put her over his knee—was that on some
deep, intuitive level, she trusted him. Just like she was
