Текст книги "Charmed by His Love"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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sentence and I’m shoving you in the water.”

Peg lifted her chin. “I was going to say that I’m not … that

I don’t … Oh, okay; but besides my beauty, and the fact that

we beat him up and I nearly ran him over with my van, why

is he being so nice to—” Peg suddenly took a step back

and pointed at Olivia. “Dammit, are you putting him up to

this?”

“What? No!”

“I swear to God, if I find out the picnic was your idea, I’l

–”

Olivia burst out laughing and sat back down, pul ing Peg

down with her. “I swear I didn’t put him up to it.” Her eyes

fil ed with laughter again. “But only because I didn’t think of

it. And Mac swears that Duncan’s a good man, Peg,” she

said, turning serious. “A bit old-fashioned apparently,

according to a conversation I overheard at the wedding

reception, but the consensus is that al the MacKeages and

MacBains are noble men.” She nudged Peg with her

shoulder. “But then, Simon Maher is available now that I’m

off the market.”

Peg reared away in horror. “He’s old enough to be my

father!” But then she smiled. “And yours, not that that

seemed to matter to him.”

They shuddered in unison and both burst out laughing.

“Mom?” Peter cal ed out. “It looks like the men are

bringing wood for our campfire. Can me and Repeat and

Henry go help them?” he asked, pointing at Duncan and

Robbie and Alec walking toward them with their arms ful of

wood.

Peg looked around, then nodded. “Okay, as long as you

stay beside them.”

“Come on, guys,” Peter said excitedly. “Let’s go help

them find more wood so we can have a real y big fire to

cook our hot dogs.”

Jacob stood up, looked at Peg, then at the men, then

walked over and knelt down beside the girls and started

working on their sand castle.

Henry started after Peter, but suddenly stopped and

turned back. “Mother? Is it okay if I go, too?”

“Sure thing, Henry; go on,” Olivia said, waving him away.

“‘Mother’?” Peg said even as she sighed at Jacob’s

reluctance to go with them.

“That’s who I am today,” Olivia muttered. “Yesterday I was

‘ma’am,’ and for three days before that I was ‘Mater’—

which apparently is Latin for mother. Ever since the

wedding Henry’s been trying to decide what to cal me,

because he claims ‘Miss Olivia’ is too formal.”

“No offense,” Peg said, deadpan, leaning closer. “But

have you ever wanted to push Henry in a mud puddle just to

see his reaction?” Olivia blinked at her in surprise, and Peg

snorted. “Oh, come on, I know you’ve at least thought about

it. The kid’s a little … stiff. I mean, seriously, Latin? What’s wrong with cal ing you plain old Olivia?”

“Too il -mannered,” Olivia said with a sigh. “But hopeful y

he’l have it figured out by the time we reach California,

because I swear if he shouts ‘Mater’ or ‘ma’am’ at me in

the middle of Disney World, I’m going to pretend I don’t

know him.”

“Jacob,” Duncan cal ed out just as Peg saw him

accidental y drop a piece of wood on purpose. “Could you

come get that for me, please?”

Peg held her breath when Jacob stood up and looked at

Duncan, then at her, then at the piece of wood Duncan was

stopped beside, and she didn’t start breathing again until

the boy started running toward him.

“And that,” Olivia said, “is why going on a picnic is not a

dumb thing.”

Duncan dumped his load of neatly cut branches on the

dead grass just above the beach. “You said ye planned to

cook hot dogs over a campfire tonight.”

Peg felt her shoulders slump. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

“Oh, are we invited?” Olivia asked, her eyes lighting up

again. “You know how much I like campfires.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any wine,” Peg drawled.

“That’s okay,” Olivia said, pul ing her cel phone out of her

pocket. “I’l cal Mac and have him bring a couple of bottles

as wel as everything for s’mores.”

Peg glanced at Alec and Robbie and Duncan—who also

appeared as interested in the campfire as Olivia was—and

smiled sheepishly. “I only have a dozen hot dogs.”

“You must have some … other meat in your freezer, don’t

you?” Duncan asked, his eyes dancing. “We could have

kebabs.”

“I’l make a store run,” Robbie interjected, “when I take my

crew to Inglenook to bed them down for the night.” He

looked at Olivia. “We appreciate your letting us use your

dormitory until Duncan gets his camp set up, since I

couldn’t find any cabins to rent within fifty miles of the new

Bottomless Sea.”

“Yeah, there’s actual traffic in town now,” Olivia said,

looking down at what Peg recognized as a smartphone.

“Wait,” she said, touching her arm. “There’s no signal

here, Olivia.”

“My phone works,” Duncan said.

“And mine,” Alec and Robbie said almost in unison.

Olivia smiled at her. “It appears we have cel phone

service in Spel bound ever since the earthquake. You need

to get yourself one, Peg, so I can text you a picture of me

pushing Mac into the Grand Canyon.”

“Speaking of my dad, Mr. MacBain,” Henry said,

stepping in front of Robbie. “He told me that you were only

a few years older than me when your father married your

stepmother, and I was wondering how you address her,” he

asked as Robbie squatted down to be eye level. “Dad said

your mama died when you were born, but I was wondering

what you cal your new mom.”

Peg saw Robbie’s startled gaze snap to Duncan, then

slide to Olivia before it softened with his smile as he looked

back to Henry. “Wel , Mr. Oceanus, I had quite a time trying

to decide what to cal her until we both settled on ‘Mum,’

since I usual y referred to my birth mother as my mama.” He

tapped Henry’s chest. “And I cal her mother Gram Katie,

which she seems to like quite wel .”

Henry beamed him a bright smile, then turned to Olivia.

“What do you think of ‘Mum’? And since I have two

grandfathers, I could cal your father Grampy Sam, and his

father Great-Grampy.”

“Works for me,” Olivia said with obvious relief, giving

Robbie a nod of thanks.

“And you can cal me ‘darling,’” Isabel said, rushing over

to grasp Henry’s arm. “Come on, sweetheart; let’s go finish

building our dream castle together.”

Peg jumped up. “Sorry, darling,” she said with a laugh,

grabbing her daughter by the hood of her jacket. “We

womenfolk have to go throw together a cookout. Come on,

Charlotte, I need your help, too.” She turned and started

walking backward to see Olivia and Sophie fol owing. “You

boys come, too. Jacob, why don’t you show Henry your new

book about ocean creatures? And you menfolk can build

the campfire and cut some sticks for the hot dogs and …

and the kebabs,” she finished lamely, spinning away from

Duncan’s quiet laughter.

Peg shooed the kids into the bathroom as soon as they

got in the house, tel ing them to wash up and then go play in

their respective bedrooms, promising to cal them when it

was time to start lugging stuff outside. She then waited until

Olivia was done giving Mac instructions on what to bring,

and pul ed her friend into the kitchen as soon as Olivia

slipped her cel phone in her pocket.

“I’ve changed my mind again,” she said, opening the

pantry door. “I’m back to thinking the picnic is a dumb

idea.”

Olivia sighed behind her. “For the love of God, why?”

“That’s why,” she said, turning to point at the kitchen

table. “Jacob woke up from his nap and decided Duncan

needed a hero’s badge for saving him this morning.”

Olivia went over and picked up the badge that Jacob and

Peter had worked on for over an hour. “What a great idea.”

She turned, holding it against her chest. “Duncan

MacKeage, our hero,” she said dramatical y before

suddenly sobering. “Don’t you see, Peg? Instead of being

scared of Duncan for pul ing him off the excavator the other

day, now Jacob sees him as a hero.”

Peg snorted and turned back to the pantry to hunt for the

hot dog rol s. “Yes, everyone loves a hero.” She turned back

to Olivia. “Aren’t we lucky to have both been married to

such fine, upstanding men?”

Olivia went perfectly stil . “You’re angry at Bil y? Oh, Peg, I

had no idea you felt that way,” she whispered, tossing the

badge on the table and rushing to her. She took hold of

Peg’s shoulders and smiled sadly. “But I do know what it’s

like to feel guilty for being angry at someone who’s dead.”

“Keith died a war hero, but would you please tel me

what’s so heroic about saving a bunch of stupid buildings

in some stupid town? Bil y broke his little girls’ hearts. And

mine,” she said, thumping her chest. “And now I’m going to

have to spend the rest of my life sleeping in an empty bed

and go to every school play and graduation alone, and

Bil y’s brother wil be the one taking the girls to father-

daughter dances.”

Olivia gently pul ed the crushed rol s away from Peg, led

her to the sink, and grabbed a cup towel. “Wipe your eyes,”

she instructed, handing it to her. “Nobody but Mac knows

this, but my marriage to Keith died two years before he

did.”

Peg lowered the towel in surprise. “It did?”

Olivia nodded. “But that doesn’t negate the fact that he

broke his daughter’s heart,” she said softly. “So I

understand your anger. But what I don’t understand is why

you’ve decided Bil y’s dying means that your life is over,

too.”

Peg turned and braced her hands on the sink to look out

the window. “Because it isover—at least my love life is—

because I’m cursed.” She looked past her shoulder at

Olivia’s snort, and turned and folded her arms under her

breasts. “Nobody but my mom and my aunt know this, but

al the women in my family became widows before their

husbands reached their thirtieth birthdays. And when my

mom and aunt waited until they were in their forties to

remarry, both of their second husbands died within a few

years in freak accidents.”

“Are you serious?” Olivia said in surprise. She suddenly

shook her head. “Those are coincidences, Peggy. There’s

no such thing as curses.”

“Yeah, wel , they’re damn freaky coincidences.” She

glanced toward the bedroom, then glared at her friend.

“And I’m not about to risk my children getting their hearts

broken again just to prove you wrong. Or is it right? Hel , I

don’t know anything anymore,” she muttered, burying her

face in the towel again.

Olivia pul ed her hands down and held them. “Are you

saying you shouldn’t go on a simple picnic because you’re

afraid if you … what … that if you happen to fal in love with

Duncan that your family’s curse is going to kil him?”

“Five generations of women descended from Gretchen

Robinson, Olivia; al widowed the first time before their

thirtieth birthdays for a sum total of twelve dead men,

including second husbands. If that’s not a curse, then what

in hel is it?” She pul ed her hands free and used the towel

to point out the window as she arched a brow. “Should we

see if Duncan can make it a nice baker’s dozen?”

Olivia’s mouth opened but nothing came out, and

she closed it and walked to the table and sat down. She

frowned at Peg, then started fingering the badge on the

table.

Peg went to the fridge and took out the hot dogs and set

them on the counter, then started dragging out condiments.

She opened a cupboard and took down her dinner plates

because she didn’t have any paper ones, then opened a

drawer and gathered up fistfuls of forks and knives.

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to take more than a curse to kil

Duncan MacKeage,” Olivia said into the silence, making

Peg stop and stare down at the open drawer. “From what I

understand, his entire family is … wel … let’s go with

charmed. And Duncan told me his father is eighty-two

years old but looks and acts like he’s barely sixty.”

“Bil y was big and strong, too.”

Peg heard Olivia walk over, then felt a hand press onto

her shoulder. “You can’t love a person to death, Peggy,”

Olivia said quietly, turning her around. “And you can’t—

ohmigod,” she gasped, her eyes widening. “You think

you’re responsible for Bil y dying. Peggy, that’s crazy

because it’s impossible.”

“Okay, then,” she growled, taking a swipe at her eyes

with her sleeve. “Does that mean you wouldn’t have any

problem with Isabel marrying Henry when they grow up?”

She smiled tightly when Olivia dropped her hands in

surprise. “Or your father, Sam, fal ing madly in love with my

mother and marrying her even though she’s already kil ed

off two husbands?”

“Peggy Thompson, you’re outrageous.” Olivia made a

crisscross over her chest. “And scout’s honor, I absolutely

wouldn’t have a problem with Henry marrying Isabel.” She

snorted. “Henry might, though.” She held up her hand when

Peg tried to speak. “As for your mom and Sam … wel , I’d

be more worried about Jeanine than Dad.”

Peg felt her mouth twitch. “Yeah, so would I.” She blew

out a sigh and went to the pantry. “Okay then, let’s forget the

Robinson curse and focus on my kids getting attached to

Duncan—or any other man, for that matter.” She grabbed a

smal plastic bin, threw in a rol of paper towels, and carried

it over to the counter and set everything inside it before

turning to Olivia. “Weren’t you afraid Sophie would get

attached to Mac, but that she’d be crushed if things hadn’t

worked out between you?”

“Of course I was. But Sophie’sthe one who kept pushing

me to get a boyfriend—other than Simon Maher,” she said

with a smal shudder. “That’s when I realized I wasn’t setting

a very good example for her. Think about it, Peg; our

kids don’t do what we say, they do what we do. And al

Sophie saw me doing was running out the back door of the

Drunken Moose or hiding in yourvan to avoid talking to a

man.”

“It’s not only men you hid from,” Peg said. “Okay, okay,”

she conceded, raising her hand. “I’l go on that stupid picnic

Sunday. But,” she growled when Olivia broke into a way too

smug smile, “I am not going on a real date if he asks me.”

“He scares you, doesn’t he?” Olivia whispered. “He just

has to look at you with those piercing eyes and your insides

clench and your mouth goes dry and your heart starts

pounding, and you think you’re going to pass out the

moment he touches you and miss something real y

important.”

Peg blinked at her. “Are we talking about me and

Duncan or you and Mac?”

That certainly wiped away her smugness. Olivia brushed

down the front of her jacket. “Yes. Wel .” This time her smile

was sheepish. “Honestly? I’m stil afraid I’m going to pass

out and miss some of the best parts. Oh, Peg,” she said,

grasping her shoulders again. “Promise me that you’l have

a good time Sunday.”

“I promise I’l try.”

Olivia’s hands tightened. “And promise me you’l get over

this crazy notion that you’re some sort of black widow, and

that you’l at least give Duncan a fighting chance.” She let

go with a laugh. “Although I did notice he’s looking a tad

beat-up today—rather like my dear sweet husband.”

“Are you saying Mac fel down the mountain, too?”

Olivia frowned in confusion, then suddenly snorted. “They

didn’t fal down the mountain; they beat the hel out of each

other.”

“What? For God’s sake, why?”

“Because they’re idiots,” Olivia said with a dismissive

wave. “When I asked Mac why he couldn’t stop groaning

this morning, he told me he and Duncan had engaged in a

bit of sport up on the mountain. And then he said that if I

thought he looked bad, I should see Duncan.”

“What kind of sport? No, wait; I know! Duncan had a

sword in his truck this morning, and he told us that his family

goes to some games down on the coast every summer.

They must have been fencing. But I thought that involved

skinny rapiers or foils or something with rubber tips.

Duncan has little cuts al over him.”

Olivia nodded. “I only saw one cut on Mac, but he’s got

several nasty bruises and he’s walking with a bit of a limp.”

“Why would two grown men beat themselves up for no

good reason?”

“Because they’re idiots,” Olivia repeated. “And I guess

because they feel it’s more macho than going to a gym and

running on a treadmil .”

“And you’re hoping I’l date one of those idiots?”

“Hey, I marriedone of them,” Olivia muttered, grabbing

the plastic bin and heading for the door. “And just so you

know, Mac told me they’re meeting up on the mountain

again tomorrow afternoon to have another go at each other.

So try to keep your little tribe of heathens from beating

Duncan up too badly this week, okay?” She stopped and

looked back, her smile smug again. “You, however, have

my permission to attack him in any way you see fit.”

Chapter Eight

Not an hour in to the hastily thrown together campfire,

Duncan was coming to realize several things about Peg

and her children, which taken separately appeared benign,

but as a whole were somewhat disconcerting and maybe

even sad.

Disconcertingly, the little tribe of heathens—which is how

he’d heard Peg refer to them more than once this evening

–were meticulously polite, considerate of both the adults

and one another, and surprisingly quiet for children on their

home turf. Even Pete was subdued, seemingly

overwhelmed to have his dooryard invaded by a smal band

of strange men, and he’d spent the better part of supper

sitting on a log scrunched up against his mother while his

twin monopolized her other side. Peg’s oldest daughter,

Charlotte—who was eight, Duncan had learned—and her

sister, Isabel—who was six—sat quietly at the picnic table

with Mac and Olivia’s two children, using a flashlight to pore

over an atlas of the United States as they talked about the

Oceanuses’ upcoming trip while basical y ignoring

everyone else.

The sad part, to Duncan’s thinking, was how self-

contained the Thompson tribe appeared to be, as if it were

the five of them against the big scary world. But then, what

was to say he wouldn’t have pul ed his family into a

defensive hug if he had suddenly found himself raising four

children al by himself?

Peg was unusual y quiet as wel , apparently also trying to

come to terms with having her secure little kingdom

invaded by men and machinery. He’d caught her staring up

at her barren hil side more than once this evening, then

releasing a soft sigh. He’d also caught her giving him

sidelong glances only to look down at her hands, but not

quickly enough for him to miss the hint of panic in her eyes.

He didn’t know what to make of that exactly, but he did like

the idea that she might be seeing him as something other

than al that was standing between her and prostitution.

Duncan figured he must have taken a blow to the head

during his little exercise with Mac yesterday, because he

stil couldn’t believe he’d asked Peg if she’d let him take

her and her children up the mountain Sunday. For a picnic?

Real y? People his parents’ age went on picnics, not thirty-

five-year-old red-blooded males—unless they were

attracted to a certain contrary, over-proud woman,

apparently.

The amazing thing was she’d said yes.

Duncan took a swig of the kick-in-the-ass ale Mac had

thoughtful y brought to the impromptu outing, and watched

Peg whisper to Jacob—he’d already figured out how to tel

them apart—as she handed the boy something before

giving him a nudge to get him moving. Jacob took exactly

two steps before he stopped and looked back at her, the

firelight reflecting the hint of panic in eyes the spitting

image of his mother’s.

“Peter, why don’t you go with him?” he heard Peg say

softly, peeling her other son off her side and also giving him

a nudge. “Because it could just as easily have been you in

that water. And if it wasn’t for Mr. MacKeage, we probably

wouldn’t have a beach to be having our campfire on

tonight.”

“Come with us, Mom,” he heard Jacob whisper tightly.

Her encouraging smile turned into what Duncan was

coming to recognize as Peg’s I-mean-business scowl when

they stil didn’t move. Pete final y grabbed his brother’s

hand and, taking a fortifying breath that squared his little

shoulders, started dragging Jacob around the fire to where

Duncan was sitting with Robbie and Alec and Mac, leaning

against some spare boulders they’d set into place with the

excavator.

“Mr. MacKeage,” Pete said, his little chin lifting exactly

like his mother’s often did. “Jacob and me made you

something after our nap.” He elbowed his brother. “Give it

to him, Repeat.”

Jacob thrust out his hand. “This is ’cause you’re a rescue

hero,” he said when his brother elbowed him again. He

suddenly lifted his bright blue eyes, making direct contact

with Duncan’s as he boldly stepped closer. “Al heroes have

a bemlem … a embal … a badge to wear on their chests.

Mom helped me draw the evascater and cut it out, but I did

al the coloring and pasting.”

“The bolt of lightning was my idea,” Pete added as

Duncan took the badge, “because lightning tel s everyone

you’re fast and strong.”

Staring down at the paste-stiffened construction paper

covered with enough crayon to make the excavator nearly

invisible, Duncan tried to say something only to have to

clear his throat as he looked into Jacob’s apprehensive

eyes. “This is real y quite an honor, gentlemen,” he said

thickly, running his thumb over the badge. He smiled, giving

Jacob a nod. “I’m glad I could be of service.”

“You gotta put it on your chest,” Pete instructed. “Mom

stuck a pin on the back so you could.”

“Wait,” Mac said when Duncan turned the badge over. “I

do believe the lovely damsel whose child was saved must

do the honor of rewarding the brave hero.”

Tomorrow afternoon, Duncan decided as he shot Mac a

glare, he was going to shove the cocky bastard off the

mountain even if he had to go over with him.

“Oh yes, Peggy,” Olivia chimed in, waving her tumbler

of wine. “Go pin the badge on Duncan.” She stood up when

Peg didn’t move and hauled the scowling damsel up off her

log. “Just try to do it without stabbing him, okay?” she said,

dragging Peg around the fire.

“Aye,” Robbie said with a chuckle, nudging Duncan’s

arm just as he was taking another swig of ale to hide his

scowl at Peg’s obvious reluctance. “It would appear the

man’s lost more than enough blood already this week.”

“Yeah, Boss,” Alec drawled, nudging his other arm. “I

believe if ye spil too much more you’re going to find

yourself staggeringback to TarStone. Be gentle with him,

fair damsel,” he said with a chuckle. “He’s had a hard

week.”

Duncan scrambled to his feet when he saw Peg suddenly

break free of Olivia and stride toward him far too eagerly.

Dammit, he hadn’t done one thing to deserve this. Hel ,

he’d gone out of his way to be nice to the contrary woman.

“Yes, give me that,” she said far too sweetly as she

snatched the badge out of his hand. “I would love to do the

honors. And don’t worry, Alec; I’m sure your boss is stil

numb from his swim, so he won’t feel a thing if I accidental y

stab him.” She pul ed back her hands. “No, wait; shouldn’t

you be on your knees?”

“In your dreams,” he muttered just before gulping down

another kick-in-the-ass.

“Excuse me? Did you say something?”

“Mom,” Jacob whispered loudly, tugging on her

sweatshirt hard enough that she nearly stabbed herself on

the pin. “I gotta see ’cause I made it for him.”

Duncan sighed and was just about to drop to one knee

when Alec scrambled to his knees instead and held open

his arms. “How about if I lift you up, Jacob?”

Duncan sensed Peg go as stil as a stone, and he used

his eyes to motion to Robbie—who immediately pushed

away from his boulder and opened his arms to Pete.

“I could also give you a lift,” Robbie offered.

Pete immediately walked into his embrace; Jacob

stepping into Alec’s in the very next heartbeat so that both

men stood up with the boys in their arms. And Duncan

nearly did drop to his knees when he saw tears wel ing in

Peg’s eyes despite her grateful smile. She gently pressed

the badge to his shirt and careful y pinned it on him with

trembling fingers, then cleared her throat. “Um, this badge

is to honor Duncan MacKeage,” she said thickly, “for

rescuing Jacob Thompson.”

Duncan tried to say something but found he had to clear

his own throat again, so he patted the badge on his chest,

turned to Jacob, and smiled. “I wil treasure it always, Mr.

Thompson.”

“And you gotta wearit always,” Pete added. “So

everybody wil know you’re a rescue hero, like on TV.”

Wel , hel ; that was going to be a problem.

Peg gave a sputtered laugh and patted her son’s leg. “I

think Mr. MacKeage should carry it in his wal et just like the

policemen do on TV.” She turned to Alec to get Jacob’s

approval. “That way it won’t get torn or wrinkled, and he can

pul out his wal et and show it to anyone who needs

rescuing.”

“But I’l probably wait until afterI rescue them,” Duncan

offered. “Okay, Jacob? Pete?” he asked, turning to include

him.

“Okay,” Pete said. He looked down at the ground then at

Robbie, his deep blue eyes widening. “You’re even higher

than Uncle Galen.”

“Mom,” Isabel said, pushing her way inside the circle of

people to tug on the hem of Peg’s sweatshirt. “What’s the

big deal? Jacob swims like a fish, so he wouldn’t have

drowned. You cal al of us your little trout.”

“The deal is,” Peg said, taking Isabel’s hand and leading

her away, “Jacob fel in ice-cold seawater, not the warm

water of our old swimming hole.”

Alec started to lower Jacob to the ground, but

stopped when the boy suddenly reached his arms out to

Duncan. “I got som’fin else to give you,” he whispered,

darting a glance at his mother walking away, and then at

Pete, who was running after her when Robbie set him

down. Jacob wrapped an arm around Duncan’s neck when

Alec transferred him over before also wisely walking away.

“My mom gave it to me and I want to give it to you,”

Jacob said, opening his tiny fist to expose a smal rock. “It’s

a worry stone,” he explained reverently, the arm around

Duncan’s neck nudging him. “Go on, take it,” he instructed,

dropping the rock into Duncan’s palm when he held up his

hand. “You’re s’pose to carry it in your pocket, and when

you get worried or scared or sad, you take it out and rub it.”

He leaned his head closer. “But you gotta remember to

take it outto rub it, or people wil think you’re playing pocket pool. And Mama says only unservalized men do that.”

Fighting back laughter, Duncan stared down at the tiny

rock and nodded gravely. “I wil definitely remember to take

it out of my pocket first.” He ran his thumb across the stone.

“Are you sure you want to give this to me, Jacob, seeing

how your mama gave it to you? It must be very special.”

The boy folded Duncan’s finger over the stone. “No, you

keep it. Mom’s got a whole bowl on the counter ’cause I

keep losing them.” He pressed his tiny hand to the badge

pinned on Duncan’s chest. “Do you think if you didn’t catch

me this morning I coulda saved myself? Or if Pete was

drownding I coulda saved him?”

“I do,” Duncan said with a nod, “if you swim like a trout.”

“My daddy didn’t save hisself and Mama says he was big

and strong like I’m going to be when I grow up.”

Okay; apparently Jacob was over his shyness. Duncan

turned to look behind him and sat down on the nearest

boulder, then glanced across the fire to see Peg staring at

them, both her hands clutching her throat. “Wel , Jacob,” he

said slowly, trying to find the right words, “sometimes it’s

impossible to save ourselves, just like sometimes it’s

impossible to save someone else. And … wel , the way I

understand it, your dad found himself in an icy river that had

a very powerful current. It’s likely he hit his head and wasn’t

even … awake when he hit the water.”

Jacob sat up, his eyes widening. “Nobody never said that

before.” He looked directly into Duncan’s eyes. “When we

swimmed in our swimming hole before it got covered up

with water, I tried holding my breath a long time like I

thought my daddy did, but it always hurt something fierce

and …” He dropped his gaze with a shudder. “And I don’t

want him to hurt like that when he drownded.” He looked up.

“You real y think he was asleep?”

Duncan pressed the boy to his shoulder. “I’m wil ing to

bet my bul dozer andmy excavator that he was, Jacob.

Your daddy didn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad,” the boy murmured, relaxing against him. “I’m

gonna tel Mama what you said, so she won’t worry about it,

neither.” He tilted his head back to look up. “And Pete and

the girls. We gotta tel al of them.”

“We can tel them together, if you’d like.”

Jacob settled back against him again. “How come you

learned I’m not Pete so fast? Everyone always mixes us

up.”

“Wel , I do believe you have your mama’s smile and that

Pete’s got her scowl,” Duncan said with a chuckle, shooting

Peg a wink across the fire when he saw that though she

was listening to what Olivia was saying, her eyes were

glued on him and Jacob. “What about your sisters?” he

asked. “Do you have any thoughts on how I can tel them

apart?”

Jacob sat up and turned to him in surprise. “They’re not

twins. They wasn’t borned together like me and Pete.”

“Repeat,” Pete cal ed out, running over to them. “Mama

said we can only have one more s’more and then we gotta

go in and have baths.” He looked at Duncan. “You coming

back tomorrow? Mr. Alec said you got a giant bul dozer.”

“We’l be here when you wake up, and so wil the

bul dozer.”

“Come on, Repeat,” Pete said, grabbing his brother’s

arm and dragging him off Duncan’s lap. “You gotta help me

sneak the snails in our bath.”

Jacob broke free and, after giving Pete a push to

keep going, he turned around. “Mr. Ma—Mr. Duncan?”

“Yes, Jacob?”

“You don’t forget to take the worry stone out of your

pocket to rub it, okay?”

“I won’t forget.”

He started off again, but as was his mother’s habit, he

suddenly stopped and turned and walked back to Duncan.

“And thank you for tel ing me about my daddy being asleep

when he drownded.” He shrugged his tiny shoulders. “I think

it’s gonna make my bel y not hurt so bad when I’m trying to

remember him.”

Duncan ran a finger over his cheek. “I’m glad, Jacob.

And if ye want, we can tel your brother and sisters about it

when we go up the mountain on Sunday for our picnic.”

His eyes widened. “We’re going on a picnic?” he yelped,

looking over his shoulder at Peg, then back at him. “On the

mountain? Sunday?”

Duncan snapped his head up at Peg’s gasp, and then

dropped it into his hands with a silent curse. Dammit to hel ;

he’d thought she’d told them.

“We’re going on a picnic?” Peter shouted. “Mom? Are

we?”

“I guess so,” Duncan heard her say, a decided edge in

her voice.

“That’s keeping an eye on her, Boss,” Alec said, sitting

down beside him.