Charmed by His Love

by Janet Chapman

  Thelma touched Peg’s sleeve again, this time giving her arm a squeeze. “I’m just repeating what I heard. And you need to know it’s only a small minority that doesn’t want the resort. Most of the people in town are for it because of the jobs it’s going to bring to the area, and the shops and restaurants and cottage industries that will follow. Some of the folks are already planning to expand their own businesses. And Bunky Watts intends to open a craft co-op in that empty storefront across from the church.”

  Peg was smiling and nodding despite trying to get past the idea that she was raping her land. “Those opposed to the resort should go visit Pine Creek,” she said. “The TarStone Mountain Ski Resort made that town what it is today, which is an inviting, thriving community. I can’t believe they’re saying I’m raping my land.”

  Thelma snorted. “It only takes a few extremists to turn something wonderful into a big ugly fight. I will tell you this much; it’s mostly people from away who are raising the stink. But they’re the ones who have the money and clout to bring in the big guns.” She glanced at the boys, then patted Peg’s arm again. “I just wanted you to be aware that, like it or not, you and Livy Bald—I mean Livy Oceanus have made a few enemies.”

  Peg was incredulous. “Because I’m selling gravel? Dammit, that pit is all I have.”

  “I know that, honey,” Thelma said. “And if I were in your shoes, I’d sell every damn last rock and grain of sand out of it that I could.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know, the people who are complaining the loudest don’t seem to have a problem buying your gravel to repair the roads to their summer camps. They want to own their little piece of heaven, but they don’t want to share it with anyone.”

  Peg took a deep breath to help throw back her shoulders, and shot Thelma a smile. “Yeah, well, they can just live with the potholes from now on. Even if I wasn’t in the gravel business, I’d still be on the front line to get this resort built. It’s going to be beautiful when it’s done and great for the economy for our children and grandchildren. That earthquake put Spellbound Falls on the worldwide map, and as far as I’m concerned it was the best thing to happen to this town. And another thing,” Peg growled, trying but failing to tamp down her anger. “Mac already bought up most of the land around the lake precisely to keep the wilderness wild. Olivia told me they’re planning to cater to every walk of life; that if someone wants five-star accommodations they can stay at the resort on top of the mountain, but if they want back-country hiking there’s going to be a trail system with rustic campsites, and everything in between.”

  “I know,” Thelma said, her features relaxing into a smile. “Olivia was in here just yesterday and mentioned some of what they’re planning. The Grange women are already raising funds to redo the town park, and if they raise enough they want to include a trail up to the top of the falls and a viewing platform.”

  “Wonderful,” Peg growled. “It sure beats raising money for their widow’s fund.”

  Thelma’s face reddened. “They came in about a month ago wanting to put a collection jar here at the post office, and they told me it was going to have a picture of your children on it.” She snorted. “I told them that one, it was illegal to solicit in a federal building, and two, I hoped you sued them if they did that to you and your kids.”

  “Thank you for that,” Peg said. “I swear I was tempted to brain Janice and Christine with the loaf of bread I was holding when they cornered me in the Trading Post. You know, Thelma, maybe we should form our own pro-resort committee, if for no other reason than to show our support to Olivia and Mac.” She shook her head. “It would crush Olivia to be accused of ruining the wilderness.” Peg gave Thelma as bright as smile as she could muster, considering she was still angry as hell. “She and Mac are taking the kids on a cross-country trip for two months, and we could be fully organized by the time they get back. Heck, we might even have the anti-resort group on the run by then, if we get enough people together to outshout the extremists.”

  “Mom!” Jacob called, frantically waving her over. “We just seen Mr. Alec and the other man go into the Moose. Can we go have our cheese sandwich with them?”

  Peg’s anger turned to horror in half a heartbeat. The last person she wanted to run into today was Mr. Kiss-stealing MacKeage. “Was Duncan with them?” she asked, rushing to the window to look out.

  “Nope,” Peter said around what was left of his lollipop. “Just Mr. Robbie and Mr. Alec. Can we hurry, Mom?”

  Peg leaned forward to look up and down the road, trying to spot Duncan’s truck, sighing in relief when all she saw was Robbie MacBain’s pickup parked in the church dooryard. “We still have to go see Ezra first,” she said, straightening away. “And if the men look like they’re talking business, we can’t bother them, okay? We’ll just say hi and sit on the stools at the counter.”

  “Gosh-dang it, Mom,” Peter muttered, making Peg rear back with a gasp. “I don’t see why we can’t talk business with them.”

  “Peter Thompson!” she snapped over Thelma’s laughter as the postmistress slipped through the door leading out back. Peg gave him a nudge. “You do not say that word. Ever. You hear me?”

  Peter gave Peg his worried yet defiant look. “Mr. Evan says it all the time, so what’s wrong with gosh-dang?” he asked, using the word again just to push her buttons.

  She nudged him again, a little less gently this time. “Because it’s one step away from cussing, is why. And people will put up with cussing from adults, but not from ill-mannered children. It makes you appear uncivilized.”

  “I told Mr. Duncan he’s gotta remember to take his worry stone outta his pocket to rub it,” Jacob chimed in, smiling smugly, “so people won’t think he’s unsevralized by playing pocket pool.”

  Peg clutched her chest on a gasp. “You told Duncan that? You actually said pocket pool?”

  Jacob nodded. “And he promised he wouldn’t forget to take it out to rub it.”

  Oh God, the man must still be laughing. Peg stuffed her mail in her purse and headed for the door. “We’re back to being glue,” she growled, leading them outside.

  Chapter Eleven

  Not wanting Peter and Jacob to think they could just walk out into traffic, it took Peg two full minutes to find an opening to cross the road, and they were just reaching Ezra’s store when Alec and Robbie came out of the Drunken Moose carrying boxes. They spotted her and the boys and headed over.

  “Hello, Thompson tribe,” Alec said. “Pete, Jacob,” he added with a slight bow, addressing each boy correctly. “What are you gentlemen up to today?”

  “We was gonna have cheese sandwiches at the Moose,” Peter informed him, “and eat with you if you weren’t talking business, ’cause we seen you go inside when we was at the post office.”

  “It’s standing room only in there, so we decided to eat on the tailgate of my truck,” Robbie said. “And we’d be delighted if you would join us.”

  “But we gotta go see how much money to give Mr. Ezra this month.”

  “Or, your mom could go talk with Mr. Ezra while you boys sit with us,” Robbie said. He held out his box. “I bought a bit more than I can eat, so we could share.”

  Peg pulled in a breath and held it, uncertain what to do, especially when she saw both boys’ eyes light with excitement as they looked up at her.

  “Can we, Mom?” Peter asked. “We promise we’ll stick to them like glue.”

  “We’ll take good care of them, Peg,” Robbie said, his warm gray eyes obviously reading her concern. “We’re in no rush, as we’re waiting on a special delivery,” he added, that warmth turning amused—although she had no idea why.

  “You’re getting a special delivery, too?” Peter cried. He stuck out his tongue. “See, ows wus gwape.”

  Peg gave him a nudge. “Don’t talk with your tongue out,” she said with a laugh. She looked from Robbie to Alec, then down at her boys. Oh God, she’d never left them with virtual strangers before. “Um, do you want to go sit on the tai
lgate of the pickup with the men?”

  Both boys vigorously nodded, and Peg didn’t know if she was excited that Jacob wasn’t even hesitating or worried that she was hesitating instead.

  “And just as soon as you’re done with your business,” Robbie continued to her, “you could also join us while we wait for our delivery.”

  Jacob tugged on Robbie’s pant leg. “The fairies don’t deliver in the daylight,” he said with great authority, adding a nod for effect. “’Cause you’re not supposed to see her, or she won’t leave nothing in the mailbox or under your pillow.”

  Robbie smiled. “This fairy is a he, and his name is Gunter. And I don’t believe his delivery will fit in a mailbox or under your pillow.” His eyes crinkled with his smile. “Because we’re waiting on a trailer of draft horses.”

  Both boys gasped. “You got the fairy to bring you horses?” Peter cried, immediately turning to Peg. “Mommm, we gotta get a boy fairy, ’cause they bring better stuff.” He turned back to Robbie, having to crane his neck to see him. “How do we call your fairy? Or can we write him a letter like we do Santa Claus? Hey, Santa’s a he, too, and he always brings us good stuff, not just suckers and quarters.” He turned to glare up at Peg. “Girl fairies ain’t as good as boy ones.”

  Apparently seeing Peg winding up a good scowl, Alec squatted down with a chuckle and opened his free arm. “I beg to differ, Pete,” he said, standing up with Peter on his arm and looking him level in the eyes. “Some of the nicest stuff I’ve gotten came from girls.” He shot Peg a wink. “If you’ll excuse us, I do believe it’s time for a tactical retreat and a small discussion on genders.” He waited for her nod, then walked toward the church dooryard.

  “Jacob?” Robbie asked, also squatting down and opening his free arm. “Would you care for a lift, or do you prefer to walk?”

  “I like being tall,” Jacob said, walking into his embrace. The boy looked at Peg when his chauffeur straightened. “I still like girl fairies, Mom, ’cause I like that they’re sneaky just like you.”

  Peg felt her cheeks turn three shades of red. “You think I’m sneaky?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her son for fear of the laughter she’d see in Robbie’s. “Why?”

  “’Cause you been finishing Daddy’s house without nobody knowing.”

  Peg relaxed, figuring that was innocent enough.

  “And I seen you sneaking them cuton pages out of the newspapers last week when Mr. Ezra wasn’t looking.”

  Peg stepped back with a gasp. “Jacob! I … I—”

  “Come on, Mr. Thompson,” Robbie said with a chuckle as he strode away with the little snitch. “I do believe it’s time we retreated as well.”

  Peg turned to the building and covered her blistering face with her hands. Jacob had seen her stealing coupons out of the newspaper? “Ohmigod, I’m going to burn in hell,” she muttered, “and my babies are going to end up there with me.”

  “What was that, Peggy? Who are you talking to?”

  Peg spun around to find Christine Richie eyeing her quizzically. “Oh, I was just talking to myself, Christine,” she said, hiking her purse up on her shoulder, then pulling down the hem of her jacket. “I was trying to remember what I’d written on my shopping list because I forgot it at home.”

  Christine’s eye lit up. “Did you hear about our new fund-raiser? We’re going to redo the park this summer, so the town will look as grand as that resort Livy and her new husband are building.”

  “I heard,” Peg said with a nod.

  Christine’s smile turned pained. “I know we talked about a widow’s fund and all, but …” She suddenly brightened again. “But I heard you’re expanding your gravel pit, and word is you’re going to be a rich woman by the end of the summer. Oh, Peggy, we’re all so happy for you.”

  “Thank you for that. Well, I guess I better get go—”

  The octogenarian grabbed Peg’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “Wait, there’s something you have to know. Phyllis Jenkins told Janice after our Grange meeting that her husband and Chris Dubois have gotten themselves all worked into a thither over that resort being built, and she’s worried they’re going to cause trouble.”

  “But they’re locals,” Peg said in surprise. “Aaron Jenkins was born in Spellbound Falls, and Chris moved here from Turtleback over twenty years ago. What’s their gripe?”

  “They don’t like that Livy’s new husband came in here and bought up all the land for miles around, and Aaron and Chris are going around telling everyone that he’s going to shut down the forest to logging to keep it pristine for the resort guests.”

  Peg snorted. “More like they’re afraid he’s going to shut down their night-hunting instead of their day jobs. Chris was a year ahead of me in school, and even back then all he did was brag about the ten-point buck he’d bagged the night before.”

  Christine sighed. “I can’t believe he’s been able to stay one step ahead of the game wardens all these years with that big mouth of his. Everyone knows he’s a poacher, but nobody seems to be able to catch him.”

  “That’s because he never keeps the meat or the mounts; he sells them to some buyer out of state.” Peg shook her head. “It seems if there’s a dollar to be made, Chris finds the quickest and most illicit way to make it. Everyone knows he’s the one who found that bird’s-eye maple worth thousands of dollars on state park land and had it cut down and dragged off before anyone realized it was missing.”

  Christine nodded up the road. “He and Aaron were just in the Drunken Moose, and they started in about how that resort’s going to change our entire way of life.”

  “For the better,” Peg growled.

  “Yes,” Christine said. She leaned closer. “But I’m telling you this because I heard your name come up in their conversation.”

  “My name? Why?”

  “Chris said … well, he said if Billy were alive, he wouldn’t be selling his gravel to build that road up the mountain.”

  “He sure as hell would!”

  Christine pursed her lips and looked around. “Chris is just angry because his mother sold you that land instead of signing it over to him, and he claims you all but stole it from Annabelle for what you paid. And,” Christine continued, squeezing Peg’s arm again when she tried to defend herself, “he’s saying that just as soon as you’re done stripping that land bare, you’re probably going to build a fancy marina to service the resort because you’re right on the fiord now.”

  “Oh, for the love of— They’re only hauling out of my pit until they open their own on the mountain. I’m not going to be rich even by Spellbound standards.”

  “I know, honey,” Christine said, patting the arm she’d just been squeezing. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up, is all. Most of the people here and in Turtleback Station want the resort, but it only takes a few to make a lot of noise.” She went back to squeezing Peg’s arm, and Peg hoped she was that strong when she was eighty. “But I think you should start locking your doors, what with you and your babies being way out there all alone.” She suddenly frowned. “Speaking of babies, where’s Pete and Repeat? I’m not used to seeing you without them glued to your side.”

  “They’re having lunch with some of the men who are working at my pit,” Peg said, gesturing toward the church. “They’re sitting on the tailgate of a truck over there.”

  Christine shook her head. “It’s too bad they have to grow up without a daddy. Little boys need a man in their lives.” She patted Peg’s sorely abused arm again and gave her a smile. “But everyone sees what a wonderful job you’re doing with them, and with those beautiful girls of yours. I raised my Robert up alone from the time he was twelve, you know. It’s a sad truth that the only work we have up here is logging and trucking, and that they’re dangerous jobs. That is, if our men don’t go off to war and get killed; either way, they’re dead and we’re left to go it alone.” She patted Peg’s arm again. “But you’re young and pretty, Peggy; don’t wait too long to find yourself an
other good man. Billy would want you to be happy.”

  “I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for my next victim,” Peg said with a laugh, capturing Christine’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slowly backing away. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be seeing you,” she said, spinning away and all but running into the Bottomless Mercantile & Trading Post.

  Peg lost her smile the moment she got inside. Dammit to hell, she didn’t need to be the brunt of Chris Dubois’s anger, and that pompous ass Aaron Jenkins had better not show his face anywhere near her pit, either. Because to hell with Duncan’s dictate; if she spotted those two chest-beating jerks on her property—especially after dark—she was peppering them with birdshot.

  “Well, now,” Ezra said when he rounded a corner and nearly bumped into her. “Who stuck a bee in your bonnet?” Ezra—who Peg had learned just ten days ago was actually Olivia’s grandfather—looked around and even behind her. “Where are the little heathens?”

  “Having lunch with Alec MacKeage and Robbie MacBain on the tailgate of Robbie’s truck.”

  “Jacob is?” Ezra said in surprise.

  Peg nodded and finally smiled. “Those men Mac hired are miracle workers. Jacob didn’t even hesitate to go with them today.” She winced. “I did instead.”

  “Aw, Peg, you don’t need to cut the apron strings clean through yet, but it can’t hurt to stretch them a little. I’ve met all those men, and your boys couldn’t be in safer hands.” He pulled her down an empty aisle when several gray-headed tourists walked in and started ohhing and ahhing over the assortment of just about anything a person needed crammed into every nook and cranny in the store. “There’s something I have to tell you. There’s talk—”

  Peg held up her hand with a laugh. “Get in line, Ezra. It’s taken me half an hour just to get from the post office here because everyone has had to tell me about the talk in town.” She turned serious, and just barely stopped herself from patting his arm. “It’s okay; anybody can say anything they want about my aiding and abetting the new resort, I don’t care. I’m just so happy that my gravel ran north and not west that I’m one second away from running down the center of the road yelling whoopee!”