Текст книги "Charmed by His Love"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

despite using contraceptives.” He gave her astonished lips

a quick kiss, then bobbed his eyebrows. “You’re not the

only one living under a family curse—although I do believe

al seven girls eventual y saw it as a blessing.”

Her cheeks flamed red and she went back to looking at

his chest. “Um, what if Providence decides I should get

pregnant?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.

He lifted her chin and brushed a thumb over her hot

cheek. “We pray it’s not triplets.” She gasped so hard, he

had to catch her when she nearly tripped over the sleeping

bag, and Duncan hugged her to him again. “Together we

can handle anything life throws at us, Peg, including three

or four or five more little heathens.”

He grunted when she poked him in the bel y. “You’re not

the one carrying them inside you for nine months.”

“Nay, but I’l carry them the rest of their lives.” He gave her

a squeeze. “As wel as you.” He set her away, bent down

and picked up her jeans, then tossed them at her. “Now, if

ye don’t want to go meet my mountain up close and

personal barefoot and half naked, I suggest you speed

things up a bit.”

He turned and dug a dry shirt out of his pack and slipped

it on, then settled his sword over his shoulders while she sat

down and pul ed on her boots. “You’re not wearing your

jacket?” she asked as she laced them up.

“The cave gets warmer the farther down we go. We’l sit

outside it for a bit to make sure ye haven’t worked up a

sweat on the hike before we go inside.”

“Do you have a second headlamp and extra batteries?”

she asked, standing up and taking a deep breath as she

glanced at the top half of the mountain.

He grabbed her hand and led her toward the fal s to

fol ow the stream up. “Trust me,” he drawled, “we’l have

plenty of light to see where we’re going.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Duncan wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt

that he’d had to take off before he died of heatstroke—

which had nothing to do with the temperature in the cave.

He’d broken into a sweat the moment Peg had crawled into

the narrow passage, and now that she was out of sight his

heart was pounding so hard that he was in danger of being

passed out cold if she needed him.

She’d cal ed back that the tunnel actual y opened

up slightly after the curve, the proof being that she’d turned

around and crawled back out just enough to blind him with

her headlamp before disappearing back around the curve.

He wiped his forehead again. “Wel ?” he quietly cal ed

into the tunnel when he noticed the beam of her light had

gone steady thirty seconds ago. “What did ye find?”

“The cave just stops. Al that’s here is a hole the size of

my fist about three feet up from the ground.”

“When ye shine the light in it, what do you see?”

“Nothing. It curves to the right so I can only see about a

foot in.”

Duncan scrubbed the sweat off the back of his neck,

wanting to roar. “Whatever ye do, don’t stick your hand in

there, okay? Let me think for a minute.”

“Too late.”

“Goddamn it, get back out here. Now!”

He was answered by silence, and if he wasn’t mistaken,

even the mountain seemed to be holding its breath.

“Peg!” he roared. “Answer me, dammit!”

“I … um, I’m stuck.”

He closed his eyes to lean his forehead on the granite

above the tunnel. “Stuck as in ye just need to relax and

you’l get free,” he asked softly, “or stuckstuck?”

“As in ‘the mountain closed around my wrist’ stuck. Um,

Duncan, why can’t I hear it breathing anymore?”

Christ, she sounded scared. Calm, but scared. “I don’t

know, lass.” He sat back on his heels and studied the

granite to the right of the cave again. “Ye said the tunnel

curved back on itself, so that means you’re only … what? A

few feet from me?”

“I’d say that’s about right.”

“And the hole your hand is stuck in, is it coming toward

me?”

“Yup.”

“Is the mountain hurting ye, Peg?”

“No, it’s just holding me. I can feel something, though. My

fingers are touching … metal, I think. Large hoops, like

bracelets or something. Two of them; both thick and wide,

but one feels slightly smal er.”

“Stop touching them and see if the mountain releases

you.”

“Nope; stil stuck.” He heard a nervous laugh. “Have we

offended Providence?”

“Nay, Peg. It takes a lot to offend such a benevolent

force.” He sat down to rest his arms on his knees, blowing

out a heavy sigh when he realized the truth of his words.

They hadn’t pissed off Providence; it was just wanting

something more from them before it released its prize—

which as far as he was concerned was Peg. “Do ye believe

in the magic yet, lass?” he asked softly.

He heard a muffled snort. “Pretty much. Um, do you?”

Duncan stil ed. Did he?

He certainly didn’t doubt it existed, having seen it in

action more times than he cared to remember. But did he

believe he had the magic in him? Because if he did, he

sure as hel didn’t need anything to work it other than belief

itself; the magic didn’t come from an instrument of power, it

came from the heart of the person needing the miracle. The

object—be it a staff or sword or bracelet—was just a

symbol of potential, a tangible means to turn that potential

outward from the heart into the physical world.

“A-are you stil there?”

Duncan scrambled to his knees and slowly ran his hands

over the granite where he estimated she was trapped. “I’m

stil here, Peg. And in about one minute you’re going to be

here with me. Close your eyes, lass, and turn your head

away.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, the calm having

left her voice.

“Hush. Listen. Do ye hear that soft thumping?” he asked

conversational y as he pressed his palms against the

granite and felt it begin to pulse in rhythm with his own

thumping heart. “I’m waking the mountain up from its nap,

Peg.” He pressed harder, feeling his hands heating up as

the granite slowly softened to the consistency of putty.

Duncan closed his eyes against the bril iant swirls of

white energy that suddenly pulsed around him, but not

before realizing it was coming from himinstead of the wal s

of the cave. He put the backs of his hands together and

slipped them inside the yielding granite, then spread the

wal with no more effort than opening a curtain.

Peg slammed into him with the force of her entire weight,

sending him sprawling onto his back as he wrapped his

arms around her with a laugh.

“Ohmigod. Ohmigod,” she muttered. “How did you do

that?”

He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her so hard

she squeaked. “By magic.”

She looked at him, then reared away as far as his

embrace would al ow. “You … Your eyes are … they’re …

ohmigod, they’re green.”

He gave a chuckle. “I’m fairly certain they’ve always been

green.”

“No, greengreen. A brighter … scarier green.”

He pul ed her down and kissed her, not stopping until he

felt her soften against him, only to sigh when he realized

she wasn’t returning the kiss.

She was back to being contrary, he guessed.

She sat up straddling him the moment he stopped and

held out her hand. “Here; I believe these are what you were

after?”

Duncan lifted his head just enough to see the two

dark cuffs she was holding, then dropped back with another

sigh. “You can keep them, as I just realized I don’t need

them after al .”

She slapped them down on his chest hard enough to

make him grunt, then leaned forward until her face was right

over his—he assumed so he could better see her scowl. “I

just risked dying a slow, gruesome death to get your

instrument of power, and you’re tel ing me you don’t need

it?” she said far too softly.

He shook his head, fighting back a grin. “Nay, I wouldn’t

have let ye rot in there, Peg. It’s just not in me to give up.”

He final y let his grin escape. “I would have kept bringing ye

food and water until Mac got back and freed you if I couldn’t

jackhammer the granite to get ye out.”

“Two months?” she whispered, her own eyes growing a

bit scary. “You expected me to sit there with my hand stuck

in a hole for two months?” She picked up the cuffs and

shook them in front of his face. “I have no idea what in hel

these are, but you’re going to wear them if I have to hit you

over the head with a blunt object and put them on you

myself.”

He took them from her and sat up, only al owing her to

scramble back as far as his thighs. He grabbed her left

wrist and, ignoring her gasp, slipped the smal er cuff on

over her hand—watching with satisfaction as it immediately

molded itself to her arm just above her wrist.

She gasped again when she tried to get it off but

couldn’t. “Ohmigod,” she whispered, lifting huge worried

eyes to his. “What did you just do?”

He started to slip his own cuff down over his right hand,

but then quickly switched it to his dominant left hand and felt

it gently close over his arm. “I believe I just sealed our fates

together—forever.” He took hold of her face to lift her gaze

to his. “Ye know a man who works around heavy machinery

can’t wear a wedding band.”

“A … a … wed … a wedding band?” She tried to look at

his wrist only to lift her arm to see her own cuff when he

wouldn’t let go of her face. “Aren’t you supposed to … Do

you honestly expect me to believe …”

Duncan nodded when she fel silent, and he brushed his

thumbs over her pale cheeks. “We’l have a ceremony for

the sake of the children, of course, but ye need to know it’s

only a formality.”

“You’re supposed to ask,” she snapped.

“Wil ye marry me, Peg?”

“No.”

“Christ, you’re contrary—which is exactly why I didn’t

ask,” he said, watching a flush of red spread across her

cheeks. He leaned down until his nose was touching hers.

“Too late, lass; you became mine last night.”

She went back to scowling at him as she lifted her arm to

see the cuff again, and her eyes suddenly widened and she

snapped her gaze to his. “Hey, does that mean this is my

instrument of power? Can I … do stuff, too?”

Duncan pul ed her into his embrace to hide his horror

even as he gave a bark of laughter. “Absolutely not. Ye

have to be borna magic-maker,” he blatantly lied. Holy hel , just the idea of Peg being able to do stuffsent chil s down

his spine—just like it had Ian’s, his nephew had said, when

he’d realized Roger de Keage had given Jessie a smal

staff.

“Then why do I have to wear a bracelet?” Peg muttered

against his chest.

“For the same reason you’d wear a wedding band; to

know who ye belong to.”

He felt more than heard her sigh. “You are so old-

fashioned.”

“And charmed,” he whispered against her hair, giving her

another squeeze. “Let’s not forget what a bastard I’m going

to be growing old with you. Are ye ready to go home now,

Peg?”

She tilted her head back to look up at him. “You can’t …

um, actlike a husband or anything,” she said, her cheeks

flushing again, “until after we’re married in a church in front

of the children. Wait; how am I going to explain to them that

I just up and decided to marry you out of the blue? We

haven’t even gone on a real date.”

Wel , if she wasn’t quite reconciled to the fact they

already were married in the eyes of Providence, at least

she was acknowledging they weregetting married. “Jacob

already gave me permission to ask you,” he said past his

grin. “And he even offered to let me sleep in one of the bunk

beds you were going to buy him.”

“When did he say that?”

“The first day I was in that recliner in your new house. He

told me I didn’t have to be afraid when you get all scowly,

because you’re real y al soft inside.” He pul ed her toward

him, stopping just shy of their lips touching. “So I guess ye

better go talk with your preacher when we get back this

morning and see if he can marry us this evening,” he

finished, just before kissing her.

And damn if she didn’t kiss him back—until his words

apparently sank in and she reared away. “This evening!”

She must have seen he was serious because she went

perfectly stil . “But Mac gave Olivia at least a week to put a

wedding together.”

“Do I look like Mac?” he asked quietly.

“You … You’re big and scary like he is. How about this

coming Saturday?”

“I’m sleeping with my wife tonight, with or without a formal

wedding.”

“We need a license.”

“I believe you’l find it’s already on file at the county

courthouse.”

“How?” she asked on a gasp.

“By magic.” He pul ed her against him and held her head

to his chest, preparing for a real y big gasp. “And your new

house—that I’mbuilding—wil be over here, Peg, and you’l

be watching sunsets from our kitchen window instead of

sunrises.”

She didn’t gasp, she snorted. “Are you forgetting I have

four children who’l be riding on a school bus this fal ?”

“I’l build a road around the fiord.”

That got him his gasp. “It would have to be at least twenty

miles to reach here, and that’s only one way! The bus isn’t

going to drive that far for four children.”

“Then you can take them into town by boat to meet it.”

“And in the spring and fal , when the ice is rotten?”

“Bottomless is saltwater, Peg,” he said, smiling over the

top of her head when he realized she needed to voice al

her concerns out loud—or at least let him know what he

was getting himself into. “It’s not going to freeze.”

This time he both heard and felt her heavy sigh. “The kids

are never going to get their friends to come for sleepovers.

First their parents wouldn’t let them stay over because I live

in a fal ing-down doublewide, and now they’re not going to

let them because I’l be living in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’l make sure they come.”

She tilted her head back. “You can’t fix everything,

Duncan.”

“Watch me,” he said, giving her a wink just before setting

her beside him. He stood up, then held out his hand. “Come

on, wife,” he said just to piss her off. “The sooner we

get home, the sooner you can start planning today’s

wedding.”

Except instead of taking his hand, she started tugging on

the cuff above her wrist, and Duncan reached down and

lifted her to her feet. “Are ye deliberately trying to offend

Providence after it gave ye such a wonderful gift?”

She stopped tugging and scowled at him. “Providence

gave me this bracelet?”

“Nay, it gave you me,” he said, grabbing her hand just as

a soft rumbling laugh echoed through the tunnel. “Did your

mother warn ye about your family curse before you married

Wil iam Thompson, Peg?” he asked as he led her toward

the entrance.

“Yes. But I was eighteen, and al eighteen-year-olds

believe bad stuff only happens to other people.”

“Did ye tel himabout the curse before ye married?”

She gave a soft snort. “Bil y said it was going to take a lot

more than some dead old biddy to scare him off. One night

we even went to the cemetery where Gretchen Robinson is

buried and he peed on her grave.” She pul ed him to a stop.

“I’l marry you today if you promiseyou’re not going to die.”

“I’m not going to die for a long, long time, Peg, I

promise.”

“But how can you be so sure?” she whispered.

“Because last night when we were making love—

the fourth time, I think—I saw ye lying beneath me al

beautiful and fil ed with passion. You were … oh, eighty

years old, I’m guessing.” He caught her shoulders when she

reared away with a gasp. “It was the magic’s way of letting

me know everything wil be okay.”

“You saw me at eighty? Naked?”

He took her hand and started walking again to hide his

grin. “Ye looked damned good, too, lass, al flushed with

pleasure. But ye might want to hold on to that other pair of

jeans I bought ye, because I do believe they’re eventual y

going to fit.”

This time she gasped loud enough that the whale

probably heard it down in the fiord. Duncan knew his

mountain certainly did when Peg shot past him with a yelp

of surprise.

“Ohmigod, something just patted me on the ass!”

Chapter Twenty-three

If she lived to be a hundred and two—which Peg was

beginning to worry might be a real possibility—she couldn’t

imagine herself being any honest to God happier. She was

six weeks pregnant according to Robbie’s mum, Libby,

who besides being a surgeon also was a less technical …

healer. That’s why a feather could have knocked Peg over

when Libby had said she was having a son, considering

she’d been less than a week pregnant at the time.

She’d met Libby and Michael MacBain when Duncan

had taken his new little clan of heathens to Pine Creek the

weekend after their rushed Monday evening wedding so his

big clan could throw them an old-fashioned wedding

reception. That’s when Libby had told Peg that not only was

she having a boy, but that she was carrying only one.

“Guaranteed,” Libby had said, a smile curving her lips as

she’d added, “This time.”

With the gentle rock of the boat making her drowsy, Peg

closed her eyes and tilted her head back to feel the sun’s

rays on her face. She sighed contentedly at how wonderful

it felt to be a wife again—even if she was married to the

most contrary, scariest, never-give-up-or-give-in man on the

planet.

Oh yeah, Gretchen Robinson’s bones were rattling in her

grave.

Peg lifted her head to see Jacob and Peter leaning over

the side when something gently bumped the boat. They

were wearing matching life vests with their names

embroidered on them—that she happened to know they’d

switched—trying to coax Leviathan closer with gummy

worms so they could pat him.

“Mom, he came!” Jacob softly whispered.

The whale always did. Peg guessed Leviathan knew the

sound of their particular motor, because none of the

scientists had been able to get a picture of him despite

having spent two months trying. “But I don’t think he’s into

gummy worms,” she warned. “And stop feeding them to

Hero before you make him sick.”

“Yuck, Levi’s got stinky breath,” Peter said, scrambling

away when a misty spurt came out of the whale’s blowhole.

“You would, too, if al you ate was fish and you couldn’t

brush your teeth.”

“I can’t wait to show al them scientists my pictures,”

Jacob said, resting his chin on his hands on the gunwale as

Hero rested his doggy chin beside him, both of them

eyeing Leviathan eyeing them back. “I can’t believe Mr.

Steve’s gonna give us ten whole dol ars just for a picture of

a whale.”

“There’s the camera on the console,” Peg said, nodding

toward it because she was too lazy and contented and

pregnant to move. Lord, she’d forgotten how al she’d

wanted to do was sleep through the first trimesters of her

pregnancies. “Duncan showed you how to use it, so go on

and take a bunch of pictures. Ten bucks wil buy quite a few

cinnamon buns.”

“No, Mom, remember we said we’re gonna buy Nerf

swords,” Peter reminded her for the tenth time that

afternoon.

Peg had lost that particular battle, seeing how the twins

had Duncan on their side. Damn if she didn’t lose more

arguments to her husband than she won—although she won

the real y, real y important ones, so she guessed that made

them even. Like this boat; Duncan had gotten her a

pontoon boat so he could have the fast and way-too-sexy

boat for himself. But the reason she could lounge around in

the sun for another half hour before she had to meet the

school bus in town was because herfast and way-too-sexy

boat would get them to Ezra’s dock in ten minutes.

Yup, there was nothing like having rousing arguments

with a big strong man and winning the ones that counted.

Life was good. Everyone was happy, including her mom

and Aunt Bea, who were both enjoying the attention of

several eligible men from Robbie’s and Duncan’s crews. At

Duncan’s suggestion, Peg had told her mom and aunt that

she was pretty sure only men born in the Bottomless Lake

area were susceptible to the curse. The women had looked

through their family history, and sure enough, al the

husbands who had met an early demise had been locals—

which meant any male from away was fair game.

Chris Dubois and Aaron Jenkins had disappeared off

the face of the earth just like Duncan had said they would,

but everyone knew the lowlifes were stil around because

there had been several hit-and-run attacks on the resort

site. It was virtual y impossible to guard fourteen miles of

road up through the wilderness, and sometimes a bridge

under construction got blown up, grade stakes got

relocated, and equipment tires got shot out with a high-

power rifle. Occasional y notes were left saying it had been

the work of one or another radical conservation group, but

everyone in town knew Chris and Aaron were the culprits,

since most of the protests against the resort had died

down. Aaron’s poor wife, Phyl is, was so embarrassed that

she’d filed for divorce and gone to live with her sister in

Indiana.

There’d only been one attack on the site where Duncan

was building their new home on the fiord at the base of his

mountain, and then it appeared to have been interrupted

by … something. Peg suspected Duncan had had a little

talk with his mountain about napping on the job after he’d

found the slightly scorched pile of lumber, because he’d

taken a hike up to the cave and there hadn’t been any

incidents since. In fact, despite every board and nail having

to be hauled over on a smal barge, Peg guessed they’d be

moved into their new home before school started in the fal .

Oh yeah, she was married to a very relentless man.

Mac and Olivia would be home in a few days, which

meant Olivia hadn’t fol owed through on her threat to push

Mac into the Grand Canyon—probably afraid her husband

might decide to rearrange the national landmark. And

according to the letter Olivia had sent Peg, the bone

marrow transplant had gone wel for both little Riley and

Sophie, and Riley’s prognosis was very promising. But

then, why shouldn’t it be if the stepdaughter of a friggin’

wizardwas involved?

“Here, give me the camera,” Peg said, dropping her feet

to the floor of the boat and holding out her hand. “I’l take a

picture of you two patting Leviathan just to make Mr. Steve

real y jealous.”

“I bet he’d be real y jealous if you took a picture of us

ridingon Levi,” Peter said, one of his legs already halfway

over the gunwale.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Peg yelped, jumping up and pul ing

him back with a laugh. “The water’s too cold and Leviathan

might accidental y squish you.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Jacob said, immediately jumping to the

whale’s defense. “Duncan told us Levi’s a rescue hero.” He

pointed toward the whale’s tail. “See, he’s even got a

badge. Duncan cal ed it a tattoo and said it means he’s

from Alantus. It’s a tide … a trilide …”

“A trident,” Peter said. “It looks like a fork you eat with,

but Duncan cal ed it a trident just like Pesidon carries. He’s

the boss of the ocean,” her son added with great authority,

his little chest puffing out against his life vest.

Peg smiled, remembering how it had taken Duncan

nearly a week of subtle corrections before he’d final y

gotten al the children to drop the “mister.” He’d introduced

them to Leviathan the day he’d taken the kids to see where

he intended to build their new home, and he explained the

whale was from a faraway magical island by the name of

Atlantis—which was, Peg had final y realized, why Henry

Oceanus was so wel versed on mythological gods. So

when the twins told people in town about their pet whale,

everyone thought her boys had quite the imaginations.

“Okay, stand just a little bit apart,” Peg said, looking at

the screen on the camera, “so I can get Leviathan between

you. You get in the picture, too, Hero. Smile. Smile,

Leviathan!” she cal ed out, which effectively put huge grins

on the boys. Only the whale slipped below the surface just

before she could snap the picture, and Peg looked up when

she heard the sound of a fast-moving boat coming from the

far end of the fiord.

“Oh, shoot,” Peter said, also looking toward the boat. “I

bet it’s them scientists and they scared off Levi before we

got our picture.”

“I already got some of him,” Jacob said. “Look in the

camera, Mom.”

Peg took one last glance at the fast approaching boat,

then turned to put the camera in the shade of her body and

scrol ed through the last few pictures. “Sorry, big man,” she

said, showing Jacob the screen when he came over to see.

“But … no, wait; you got part of his tail in this one.” She kept

scrol ing. “And I think that’s his blowhole.” She sighed as

she shut off the camera, set it on the steering console, and

ruffled Jacob’s hair. “You must have hit the zoom button, so

none of the shots show him wel enough for ten dol ars, I’m

afraid. But don’t worry; we’l get more pictures tomorrow.”

“It ain’t Mr. Steve anyway,” Peter said just as the boat

slowed down at the very last minute and pul ed up beside

them.

Too late, Peg recognized Chris Dubois. “Boys, lie down

on the floor!” she snapped as she lunged to start her engine

–only to cry out when Chris rammed his boat into the side

of theirs.

He leapt onboard, his beefy fist catching Peg on the

shoulder with enough force to shove her against the

opposite gunwale, making her glad she’d worn her life vest

when it knocked the wind out of her. She scrambled after

her screaming boys, only to have Chris slap her hard

enough to knock her off her feet again.

He then gave Hero a swift kick in the ribs, the dog’s snarl

turning into a yelp of pain as it went skidding into one of the

rear fishing chairs. Chris grabbed the dog before it could

scramble to its feet, picked it up, and threw it over the side

of the boat, only to swing around and backhand Peg when

she tried to stop him.

She got to her feet when she saw him make a grab for

Peter, then watched the boy leap away so quickly that he

slammed against the console with a shriek. “Leave them

alone!” she shouted, going for Chris’s face even as she

tried to knee him in the groin.

Only he twisted at the last minute and pul ed her off

balance, spinning her to clamp a hand around her throat.

“Cal them off, Peggy,” he growled, kicking Jacob when he

tried to ram into him. “Get back, you little shit!” The blow

sent Jacob sprawling to the floor, the momentum slamming

him into the stern. “Both you little shits climb in my boat,” he

shouted. “Now!”

“No!” Peg twisted free but Chris shoved her hard enough

that she fel to her knees again. “No! You’re not taking

them!”

He grabbed Peter and tossed him into his boat, then

went after Jacob. Peg looked around for something to fight

with and grabbed the fire extinguisher. But Chris kicked it

out of her hands, and she heard it plop into the water just as

he grabbed Jacob by the vest and flung the kid toward his

boat. Realizing it had drifted away from theirs, Peg ran to

the gunwale to jump in after him, only to have Chris yank her

to the floor—but not before she saw her son climbing

onboard with Peter’s help. Hero was barking and treading

water between the two boats, apparently uncertain which

one to swim to.

“Mom! Mom!” Peter and Jacob cried as their boat drifted

farther away.

“No, you can’t just leave them! They’re only babies!” Peg

screamed, lunging for Chris’s arm when he turned the key

and started her motor.

He grabbed her by her vest and dragged her kicking and

screaming to the front of the boat, then punched her in the

head hard enough that Peg nearly passed out. He

unhooked the bow rope and used it to tie her hands to the

post of the front fishing chair.

“You leave Mom alone!” Peter shouted over Jacob’s

screams.

Peg struggled to sit up as Chris walked back to the

console and pushed the throttle forward. “Boys! Just sit stil

and someone wil find you!” she shouted over the roar of the

motor, not knowing if they could even hear her as Chris

sped toward the end of the fiord. Shaking with both rage

and terror, Peg could only helplessly watch the twins

clinging to each other while screaming something she

couldn’t hear as Hero clawed at the side of their boat.

She touched her throbbing cheek with her shoulder as

she glared at Chris. “God damnyou. How can you leave

two little boys adrift like that!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t just toss them overboard like the

dog,” he said with a laugh that sounded more sick than

sane. “Or maybe you wanted me to bring them along.” He

suddenly jerked the wheel sharply then straightened back

out, making Peg slam against the seat and fal on the floor.

“So they could watch what I’m going to do to their stuck-up

bitch of a mother.”

He jerked the wheel again just as she sat up trying to see

the building sight at the base of Duncan’s mountain,

making her cry out when she slid sideways and the rope

tightened against her wrists. But she knew her husband

wasn’t there because he’d taken the pontoon boat when

she and the boys had left in the speedboat half an hour

ago; Duncan going down to the pit to meet the blasting

contractor while she’d only gone a little ways down the fiord

in search of Leviathan.

Peg looked back over the stern trying to spot the twins,

just barely able to see Chris’s boat now. Dammit, the boys

were only maybe two miles from the pit; would their

screams and Hero’s barks carry that far over water, even

with machinery running? Or maybe the scientists would

come into the fiord. Surely someonewould find them.

She turned her attention to Chris. “Are you insane? Why

are you doing this?”

He just smiled.

“Is getting even with me for buying your mother’s land

worth going to jail for years and years?” she shouted over

the roar of the powerful engine going ful throttle. “You’re a

woodsman, Chris; getting locked up would kil you. It’s not

worth it. Just beach the boat and walk away, and I promise

I won’t press charges.”

Al that petition got her was a laugh.

“Look, there’s a marine radio. At least cal someone.

Ezra; he’s got a radio in his store now. Cal and tel him to

send someone after my boys. They’re four years old, Chris!

If anything happens to them, that’s murder.”

He eased back on the throttle, and Peg looked around to

realize they were already nearing the end of the fiord. “They

can’t lock me up if they can’t catch me,” he said past a

smug grin. “And by this time next week, we’l be far enough

into Canada that nobody wil find us.” He slowly guided the

boat up a smal stream until it became too shal ow, running

it up onto the bank around a bend so it couldn’t be seen

from the fiord.

For the love of God, he was taking her to Canada? “Um, I

don’t know if you’ve heard, but I got married several weeks

ago,” she said as he walked to her.

He squatted down and clasped her jaw in his grimy hand.