Charmed by His Love (10 page)

Peg sat at the picnic table the boys had helped her drag down next to the beach and watched them alternating between using sticks to fling seaweed back into the water and stopping to watch the equipment working on the hillside across their … new cove. She in turn was alternating between keeping an eye on them and studying her copy of the agreement she had just signed with MacKeage Construction.

It was all happening so fast, it didn’t seem real. Yesterday she’d been desperate enough to shoot a deer out of season, and today she was on the verge of being able to buy the rest of the materials to finish her house and also upgrade to a newer used van. And she would still have enough money left over to finally stop feeling like she was one second away from …
prostitution
, she thought with a grimace.

Of all the crazy things to have said! When she’d climbed into her lonely bed last night, Peg hadn’t been able to stop remembering the look on Duncan’s face when she’d mixed up
destitution
and
prostitution
. His jaw may have gone slack, but she hadn’t missed the unholy gleam in his sharp green eyes that had immediately followed. She’d spent all night being hot and bothered by that gleam, and it had been all she could do to face him this morning without blushing to high heaven.
That is, until she’d gotten a good look at his face and smelled his breath.

Peg lifted her gaze to the excavator digging another test hole and saw Duncan standing off to the side talking to the logger he’d contracted. Oh, she hoped there was gravel up there, because if there was, then a good many of her troubles would be over. But if that horseback continued running west, all of those big fat checks would be going to her neighbors every Friday afternoon—assuming the Dearborn brothers were willing to give up growing pot on their land to sell the gravel beneath it.

She’d had a couple of go-rounds with the two old coots who’d bought the rickety old shack a quarter mile up the road last spring. They’d started out neighborly enough, but not five months after they’d moved in, Evan and Carl had knocked on her door and accused Peg of sneaking over and stealing buds off their maturing plants—which had made her laugh so hard when they’d left that tears had streamed down her cheeks. But she sure as hell hadn’t been laughing a week later when she’d discovered the two idiots had set booby traps all through the woods around their illegal crop.

Afraid the twins would get maimed—because what did little boys know about property lines when they were stalking squirrels with imaginary guns?—Peg had waited until she saw the brothers go into town one morning and had marched over and smashed their traps to smithereens. Then she’d cut down one of their pot plants and left it wilting on their doorstep, along with a note saying that she’d turn them in if they didn’t start growing their crop away from her property line.

Surprisingly, they’d both come over that evening and apologized. They certainly hadn’t meant to endanger her children, they’d assured her, but had only wanted to catch whoever had been raiding their … garden. Then, after saying they admired her spunk at how she’d gone about getting her point across, the older brother, Evan, had asked her out to dinner at the Drunken Moose. Only problem was, besides missing more teeth than he had left and smelling like a skunk and desperately needing a haircut, Evan was old enough to be her grandfather.

Peg had politely turned him down and waited until they’d
reached the woods before she’d shuddered all over, then started laughing so hard that she’d cried again.

“Mom! Did you see that?” Jacob shouted, pointing at the hillside. “They just cut down a big tree and I felt the ground shake when it landed. Did you feel it, too?”

“I’m pretty sure I felt something,” she called back, returning his huge smile only to frown up at the woods the moment he turned away to watch again.

What were they doing cutting trees already? Good Lord, not ten minutes after Duncan and Alec had started digging holes this morning, a virtual convoy of three tractor-trailer log carriers, several different styles of tree harvesters, a pulp loader, and who knew what else had arrived, and were now lining the road in both directions of her house. She’d assumed they were here to clear the timber off the road Duncan was building up the mountain, which is why she’d been surprised when one of the harvesters had been driven around her old pit and up onto the hillside.

Peter and Jacob had been so excited by all the activity and huge machinery, Peg had promised to sit outside with them to watch, if they in turn promised to stay on the beach and at least try to keep their sneakers dry. They’d both nodded vigorously at the double joys of not only watching big machinery working but also beachcombing for the jellyfish and crabs and snails that were now calling their flooded gravel pit home. For the love of God, the air actually smelled
salty
.

Peg frowned again when she saw another large pine tree topple to the ground, wondering if Duncan wasn’t getting ahead of himself. After he’d introduced the owner of the logging convoy as his cousin Robbie MacBain, also of Pine Creek, Peg had asked Duncan why he was cutting trees before he even knew what was under them. He’d suddenly gotten one of those unholy gleams in his eyes and said that if she was willing to drop her price to one seventy-five a yard, he’d pay her even if all he found was sand. And, he’d added, that gleam intensifying, he would also have his crew finish her house.

Knowing he somehow
knew
there was gravel on that hillside, Peg had smiled sweetly despite being aware of Mr. MacBain’s amused interest and told Duncan that if he cut all
her trees and didn’t find any gravel—at two twenty-five a yard—then he was replanting every last one of them
and
finishing her house.

Peg looked down at the purchase agreement again and pulled in a shuddering breath at the realization that she was holding the answer to her prayers. Too bad the angel who’d brought it was an overconfident, drop-dead handsome giant with broad shoulders all but begging a tired, lonely widow to lean on them.

Duncan was also a study of contradictions. For all of his gruffness—as well as his habit of cussing under his breath—there appeared to be a true gentleman lurking behind those rugged good looks. Because honestly? She didn’t know any man who wouldn’t have defended himself when she and her children had attacked him. Then, after nearly running him down with her van, Duncan had helped her butcher an illegal deer. And this morning he’d loaned her his truck to take the kids to the Drunken Moose as she’d originally planned, and even to drive Charlotte and Isabel to school in Turtleback Station—which was seventy miles round trip—because they’d missed the bus.

And if that weren’t enough proof there was a good man inside the battered, Scotch-sipping grouch, Peg had returned home to find her van parked in her dooryard, making her doubly glad that she’d brought back a half-dozen cinnamon buns for him and Alec as thanks, which both men had wolfed down without even tasting.

“Uncle Galen’s here!” Peter shouted, running up the beach brandishing a stick full of seaweed, Jacob in hot pursuit.

Peg heard Galen’s old pickup rattle to a stop and glanced over her shoulder to see no less than five more pickups pull into the driveway behind him. She quickly folded her agreement with Duncan and tucked it under her sweatshirt inside her bra, then stood up just in time to be pulled into a bear of a hug.

“Hey, sissy sister, what are you doing with all this machinery cluttering up your road and property?” he murmured, squeezing Peg until she squeaked.

Galen had started calling her
sissy sister
the day she’d married his baby brother, only he’d switched to
porky Peg
by the
end of her last pregnancy—which no one had realized was twins until Jacob had made his appearance two minutes after Peter. But Galen had thankfully gone back to calling her
sissy sister
once she’d given birth and
almost
gotten her figure back.

“Hey, Pete and Repeat,” he said with a laugh, scooping both boys up in his beefy arms to give them each a noisy kiss on their cheeks, which both boys immediately rubbed off on their shoulders before returning the kiss, as was their ritual. Galen turned to face the shoreline. “You hoodlums seen any sharks in your new swimming hole?”

They both shook their heads. “But Isabel says she seen a whale blow when we was at Inglenook last Saturday,” Jacob said. “Only I missed it because I was watching the little submarine.”

“I got some snails,” Peter chimed in, reaching in his jacket pocket and pulling out a tiny fistful of wilted snails, which he then held up under Galen’s nose.

“Oh, those look fat and juicy,” Galen said, fighting his smile with a serious nod. “I think you should have your mom cook them for you for supper tonight.”

Peg gave an involuntary shudder, not only because Peter looked positively taken by the idea, but because she was wondering what other creatures she was going to find when she did the laundry. Angleworms and the occasional frog she could handle, but creepy crawly sea critters were another thing.

“And I hear a person can make soup out of jellyfish,” Galen continued, setting down the boys and giving them a nudge toward the beach. “See if you can’t find some that’s washed up on shore. You’re going to need at least a bucketful according to the recipe I found in the
Farmers’ Almanac
.”

“Thank you for that,” Peg muttered when the boys took off in search of dead jellyfish. She eyed the other men getting out of their trucks, recognizing most of them. “What are you doing here, Galen? I called you when I got home and told you the van was only out of gas.”

“We’ve come to meet our new bosses,” he said, looking toward the hillside.

“You’re going to work for Duncan? All of you?”

“We’re working for MacBain Logging until he clears out of here and MacKeage starts the roadwork,” he said with a nod,
still watching the hillside. He finally turned to her. “Apparently both men are smart enough to know they can’t pull into a town with their crew and machinery and not put a good number of the locals on their payrolls.” He grinned. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

“It’s also damn cheap insurance,” one of the other men said with a snicker—Jonas, Peg thought his name was, from Turtleback Station.

Galen grabbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt and led her away from the men, finally stopping to stand with his back to them. “You don’t worry about nothing, Peg,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure MacKeage gives you a good price for your gravel. Any notion he might have about taking advantage of a woman will be gone once he finds himself dealing with me. You’re not selling him one pebble for less than a buck fifty a yard.” He held up his hand when she tried to speak. “I know that sounds like highway robbery for stumpage in this area, but word in town is the guy who married Livy Baldwin, Mac somebody, has some mighty deep pockets. They’re saying he’s bought most the land around here and is planning to build a fancy resort up on that mountain overlooking Bottomless. So you being a softhearted woman and all, I’ll just make sure no one takes advantage of you.”

“But—”

“And I’m gonna find you someone to sit in a chair and count every truck that leaves your pit,” he continued. “MacKeage might be a Mainer, but he’s here for a year or two, then he’s gone.” He patted her arm, then muttered something and pulled her into another bear of a hug. “You just leave things up to me, sissy sister, and you’ll finally be able to hire someone to finish that house Billy started for you and the kids.”

Damn. The last thing she wanted was Galen sticking his nose in her business. The guy meant well, but he had about as much business sense as Peter’s snails. Hell, when Galen and his dad, Clive, had tried to work on the house after Billy died, it had taken her two weeks to unravel all the electrical wires they’d run. And to save her sanity without hurting their feelings, Peg had told them the idea of moving into the house without Billy was too painful for her, anyway. The Thompson men were hard workers, but they often worked in circles.

She had definitely gotten the pick of the litter—or else Billy had been adopted.

“Is there a problem?” Duncan asked from right beside them, making Peg jump and Galen step back in surprise.

Galen recovered quickly and thrust out his hand. “Galen Thompson, Peg’s brother-in-law, Mr… .?”

“Duncan MacKeage,” Duncan said, giving his hand a quick shake, then turning to Peg. “Is everything okay?”

Peg barely had time to nod before Galen stepped between them. Good Lord, she’d always thought the Thompson men were hulks, but seeing Galen standing toe-to-toe with Duncan … well, there must be something in the drinking water in Pine Creek, because Duncan and Alec and Robbie MacBain were nothing short of giants.

“It appears to me that you’ve gotten ahead of yourself, Mr. MacKeage,” Galen said, gesturing at the hillside. “You seem to be expanding Peg’s pit before you’ve even settled on a price.”

Duncan’s gaze slid briefly to her, but it was long enough for Peg to give a barely perceptible shake of her head, hoping to God that Duncan was astute. “Well, Mr. Thompson,” he said, giving his attention back to Galen, “I prefer to know exactly what I’m buying before I throw out any prices.” He also gestured toward the hillside. “That’s why I’m digging a few test holes today.”

“Last I knew it don’t require cutting trees to dig a couple of holes.”

Duncan shrugged. “Peg mentioned wanting the pine for … something,” he said when she shook her head again. “So I thought that while I had my loggers here, I’d cut some of the bigger trees in exchange for the privilege of looking.”

Galen turned to her. “Would you excuse us a minute, sis—Peg—while me and Mr. MacKeage have us a little talk?” he asked, nodding for her to leave.

Peg walked between them, ignoring Duncan’s surprise in favor of giving him another speaking look on her way by, and headed down the beach to see what her boys and the men were looking at. Only she never reached them because Galen’s little talk lasted exactly one minute before he called to his friends and they headed to where Robbie MacBain was standing with some of his crew watching the harvester work.