Charmed by His Love

by Janet Chapman

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I can help you.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you can. But I can’t get in the habit of letting someone else solve my problems.” She made a valiant effort to smile past her chattering teeth. “No matter how broad … well, because I can’t,” she finished on a growl, spinning away.

  He caught her sleeve and turned her back around, wrapping her up in his arms—partly to keep her warm but mostly just to piss her off. “I’ll find that van if I have to drive down every tote road between here and Turtleback Station.”

  “No, actually, you won’t, because despite some people’s opinions, I’m a lot tougher and smarter than I look.” She patted his chest. “Just worry about guarding your equipment, Duncan, because honestly, I really don’t feel up to the task toni—”

  He kissed her just to shut her up, and he didn’t stop until he felt her start to tremble—and not from the cold, either. He lifted his head and smiled at her glare.

  “Stop doing that,” she whispered in a shaky growl.

  “I feel I should warn ye that I’m also a lot tougher and smarter than I look. And, I’ve just recently been told, a quick study when it comes to anticipating a person’s next move.” He lowered his head until his nose was nearly touching hers. “By the same bastard who also pointed out that I’m really quite contrary.”

  He kissed her again when she tried to protest, partly to piss her off but mostly to let her know he wasn’t ever going to stop. He did cut this particular kiss short, however, when he felt her trembling again and realized she was nearing the end of her control.

  “It’s okay, Peg,” he whispered against her wet hair when she hid her face in his jacket. “I’ll eventually find out what happened today, because whether ye like it or not, I have no intention of letting you deal with whatever’s going on all by yourself.”

  “You need to leave me alone,” she said into his jacket, “because this isn’t going anywhere, Duncan.” She looked up, and the sadness in her eyes twisted his gut into a knot. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like it to, but that I … can’t.” She squirmed for him to let her go, and when he did she took a deep breath and smoothed down her jacket. “So please quit trying.”

  “No.”

  She snapped her head up. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I just don’t want … I can’t … dammit, I need to stay focused on my kids.” She waved at nothing. “Maybe in another twenty years I’ll think about having a love life.”

  “You’ll have forgotten how by then, lass,” he said just to piss her off—because it was a hell of a lot better than letting her come up with any more crazy excuses.

  Her eyes widened, and within the next heartbeat she had her I-mean-business scowl in place. “It’s like riding a bike,” she snapped. “But if you need the practice, I suggest you try Angie’s Bar in Turtleback on the first Friday night of every month, when they have strippers come in from Canada.” That said, she stomped away—causing the entire deck to shake precariously.

  “Peg.”

  She stopped with her hand on the storm door, but didn’t turn to look at him.

  “I have to go home for a couple of days to pull my crew together, so if ye need anything, don’t hesitate to ask Alec or Robbie. I’ll be back on Saturday to see Mac and Olivia off, and I’ll pick you and the children up Sunday morning at ten for our picnic.”

  “No,” she said, still not looking at him.

  “Dress them warmly and in mud boots, and ye might want to bring them each a change of clothes.”

  He watched her lean her forehead on the door. “Please don’t make me go.”

  “Ten o’clock; and I’ll have ye all home by sunset,” he said quietly, the knot in his gut making the walk to his truck nearly impossible.

  By four o’clock Friday afternoon, Peg had decided that Duncan’s idea of help was foisting her off on Alec and Robbie. Oh, and leaving her his truck to use—which she hadn’t because she was more stubborn than he was. She didn’t dare give the man an inch, knowing damned well he’d take a mile before she even knew what he was up to—including stealing more heartbreaking kisses.

  How in the name of God had she gotten herself into this mess? She’d really just been minding her business—trying to make ends meet by poaching deer and stealing coupons and keeping her van running on duct tape and prayers—when the earth had shaken and mountains had moved, and Duncan MacKeage had shown up and started making her tremble worse than the earthquake had.

  Peg watched the boys building an elaborate road system up from the beach to the driveway using the convoy of toy construction equipment they’d found lined up on the deck yesterday morning when they’d gone outside. She’d tried to thank Robbie, but the man had gotten a sparkle in his laughing gray eyes as he’d shaken his head, saying he had no idea how those trucks had gotten there, as he and Alec had been guarding the property all night. He’d then pronounced in front of the boys that it must have been a sneaky girl fairy, since all the boy fairies he knew always made a lot of noise while making their special deliveries.

  It hadn’t been until that afternoon when the girls had gotten off the bus that Alec had jumped off the excavator and come down and opened the door of Duncan’s pickup to show Peg the fairy had also left Charlotte and Isabel a little something—which she would have discovered that morning if she’d used the truck. Her daughters were now the proud owners of some pretty fancy L.L.Bean backpacks.

  Charlotte, being the bright bulb that she was, had quietly thanked Alec for the special delivery, and Peg had watched her daughter tug on his sleeve to get him to bend over to give him a shy kiss on his cheek—which she’d noticed had darkened as he’d straightened.

  Oh yeah, little girls and little boys needed big strong men in their lives. And dammit, so did she. But desire was a four-letter word as far as Peg was concerned.

  It was also painful as hell.

  Duncan MacKeage had walked into her life less than a week ago, big and strong and handsome and unbelievably appealing, and here the man had been gone less than forty-eight hours and she already painfully missed him.

  Her desire for Billy had been a subtle blossoming inside her over their junior year of high school; Billy being a bit slow on the uptake, but quickly getting with the program once she’d finally managed to catch his eye. They’d been inseparable their senior year, and had gotten married the September after graduation—Charlotte being born nine months and three weeks later.

  There was nothing subtle about her desire for Mr. Kiss-stealing MacKeage, however; in fact, Peg felt somewhat blindsided by the intensity of her attraction to him.

  How was that even possible? How could she meet a man on Saturday—by attacking him, no less—and already have her heart aching from knowing she couldn’t act on their obviously mutual desire? She really didn’t want to go on that picnic Sunday, because she really liked Duncan too much to lead him on. But telling a big strong man that pursuing her would be detrimental to his health … Well, once the guy quit laughing, he’d probably steal another kiss just to shut her up. And then he’d set about proving her wrong, because he really was contrary.

  So basically the question was, how did a woman go about discouraging a man she desperately desired? Because just saying no didn’t seem to be working.

  Come to think of it, why was Duncan even attracted to her, anyway? The guy was sexy as all get-out, and obviously successful judging by the fancy equipment he was running; he could have any woman he wanted. So why was he even bothering with a widow who had four little heathens? Which, now that she thought about it, was almost as disconcerting as her desire for him.

  “Grammy’s here!” Peter shouted, abandoning his road to run to the edge of the driveway and stop. Jacob was two steps behind him, making Peg smile when he also halted with his toes on the edge of the gravel until the car came to a stop and they heard the engine shut off. Then both boys bolted for the driver’s door.

  “Gram, come on,” Peter said, grabbing Jeanine’s han
d before she even got her seat belt unfastened. “You gotta come see all our new trucks!”

  “A special delivery fairy brung them,” Jacob said, grabbing her other hand the moment she got out. “Gram-auntie, you come, too,” he added with a wave at Peg’s aunt Bea as she got out the passenger side.

  “I’ll be right along,” Bea said as she walked over and sat down beside Peg at the picnic table. “I thought you swore they’d never play with toy trucks because you didn’t want them playing with big ones when they grew up,” she said softly.

  “I guess I forgot to tell the truck fairy.” Peg followed Bea’s gaze from the boys to the neatly stacked pine logs sitting next to the tote road, then up the hillside where Alec was digging stumps while the bulldozer pushed them into piles. Alec had introduced her to Duncan’s foreman, Sam Dalton, just that morning when Sam had arrived in another shiny wheeler towing the front-end loader that would stay at the pit to bucket the gravel into the trucks. Oh yeah, Duncan was settling in for the long haul.

  “Who is the truck fairy?” Bea asked.

  Peg waved at the hillside. “The crew. I suspect they figured if the twins had their own construction toys to play with that they wouldn’t try to play with the big ones.” She looked at Bea. “What brings you ladies here this afternoon?”

  Bea’s face lit up. “We’re auditioning.”

  Peg’s mom walked over, her own face bright with laughter. “I told you that you’d give in, didn’t I?” she said, waving at the twins. “Boys and trucks belong together.” She sat down beside Peg. “Land sakes, I can’t remember the last time we’ve been able to sit outside in the middle of April like this. We’re usually still knee-deep in snow, and there they are digging dirt already.” She wrapped an arm around Peg and gave her a squeeze. “And here you are, finally on your way to financial independence. You should be all moved in to your new house before the snow flies again.”

  Peg saw Alec get out of the excavator and start jogging down the road they’d built along the west side of her old pit, and she stood up and faced the women. “What did you mean, you’re here to audition?” she asked. “Audition for what?”

  “We’re hoping to get a job cooking for MacKeage Construction,” her mom said, also standing up when she spotted Alec. She pointed toward him. “We overheard Alec talking to Ezra this morning, saying he was looking for a cook for the camp they’re building for their crew and MacBain Logging to stay at through the week.”

  It took all of Peg’s willpower to keep her composure, even as her stomach tightened in dread. “No,” she whispered, her gaze darting between her mom and aunt. “I don’t … You can’t …”

  Bea also stood up. “We butted right in to the conversation,” she said excitedly, “and told Mr. MacKeage that feeding thirty men required two people in the kitchen, and that we just happened to be wonderful cooks.”

  “But—”

  “We told him we also happened to be looking for jobs,” her mom said, cutting Peg off. “And that we have experience running a camp kitchen.”

  Peg gasped. “No, you don’t.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Alec was almost to them, then narrowed her eyes on her mother. “Serving pancakes one day every year on Maine Maple Sunday at a sugarhouse is not camp cooking experience,” she softly growled.

  “Hush,” Jeanine growled back, turning to smile at Alec. “Mr. MacKeage,” she said with a nod. “We’ve brought you a sample of the meals we plan to serve if you give us the job.” She gestured toward the picnic table. “We thought we’d cook you and your crew and Peg and the heathens supper tonight right here over an open campfire.” She beamed him a bold smile. “I promise no one will leave the table hungry.”

  The smile Alec gave Jeanine disappeared when he looked at Peg and she didn’t turn her scowl off quickly enough. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “No, there’s not,” Jeanine said at the same time Peg said, “Yes.”

  “Mom,” she softly hissed, darting a glance at Bea. “They’re going to be here for two years; five days a week times three meals a day.”

  Jeanine also lost her smile. “I can read a calendar,” she said, striding to the car.

  “But you don’t understand,” Peg whispered tightly, following her. “There are people in town who don’t want the resort to be built, and anyone who works for anyone building it is going to become a target.”

  Her mother opened the trunk and blinked at her. “What are you talking about?” she asked, not bothering to whisper. “Everyone is excited about the resort. It’s going to create a lot of good paying jobs.”

  “Not everyone,” Peg hissed. “There are some who are violently opposed to it.”

  Jeanine reached in the trunk, picked up a box of food, and shoved it at Peg. “They’ll change their minds soon enough,” she said with a dismissive wave. “And Sister and I intend to be the first in line for those jobs.” She touched Peg’s arm. “We’re so excited about this, honey. You know how much Bea and I love to cook, and we … well, we need to feel needed.”

  “But you both already have jobs.”

  Her mother picked up another box and handed it to Bea when she and Alec walked over. “I can do the bit of freelance bookkeeping I have on weekends.”

  “And I already told Sylvia Pinkham I wasn’t coming back to housekeep at her resort this summer,” Bea chimed in. “With the cost of gas now, I was losing money driving all the way to Turtleback for five hours of work every day, and she wasn’t willing to give me a raise.” She smiled, nodding at Alec when he also picked up a box from the trunk. “And even including the tips I made at the Pine Point Resort, I’ll still be earning twice as much working for Mr. MacKeage.”

  “Please, ladies, call me Alec,” he said. He looked at Peg and arched a brow. “Mind telling me what seems to have you worried?”

  Jeanine made a dismissive sound before Peg could answer and grabbed the last box out of the trunk. “My overprotective daughter is afraid we’re going to get the cold shoulder from the few people in town who are opposed to Olivia’s new resort if we work for you.” She balanced the box on the bumper and closed the trunk with a snort. “But it’ll be a cold day in hell—pardon my French—before I’ll let a bunch of idiots tell me who I can or can’t work for. Now,” she said, carrying the box to the picnic table. “You just go back to whatever you were doing, Alec, and we’ll ring the dinner bell.”

  He stepped in front of Peg when she started to follow them. “Where’s your van?”

  “It’s taking a really long, well-deserved nap.”

  He sighed. “We’re going to find it, ye know. And personally, I’d rather not be standing in your shoes when we do.” He canted his head, studying her as she glared at him, and smiled. “I’ve never actually seen anyone stand up to Duncan and … survive. Are ye not even a little bit afraid of pushing him too far?”

  “What’s he going to do,” she drawled, stepping around him, “use the flat of his sword on my backside?”

  “Nay, lass,” he said with a chuckle as he followed. “I’d be more worried about seeing him with a short length of rope in his hands if I were you.”

  Having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, Peg stopped and turned, making him nearly bump into her. “The moment I so much as hear anyone in town has threatened my mother or aunt,” she whispered tightly, “I swear I’m ripping up my agreement with MacKeage Construction and chaining off the pit.”

  Alec’s usually warm eyes turned deadly, and he stepped closer. “Where’s your van, Peg? Did someone run you off the road?”

  “And you can tell Duncan that I don’t make idle threats, either,” she said, turning and walking away on rubbery legs.

  Dammit, she had to figure out how to stop them from hiring her mom and aunt, even if she had to dump a whole shaker of salt in tonight’s supper when no one was looking—especially her little tattletale son.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Duncan showed Jacob and Pete how to buckle themselves into the booster s
eats he’d set in the second row bucket seats, and handed them each the books on heavy equipment he’d brought them. He then stepped to the side to usher Charlotte and Isabel into the third row seat and handed them the magazines he’d brought—that he’d had his mother pick out because what in hell did he know about little girls? He finally climbed in behind the steering wheel, hiding his smile when he saw Peg studying the dashboard that looked like it belonged in a Black Hawk helicopter.

  He’d driven the full-sized SUV back from Pine Creek in the wee hours of this morning, leading his convoy of equipment through a gauntlet of moose out licking the salt that had pooled in the potholes from this winter’s sanding. At the rate this spring was going, he wouldn’t have many more nights of below-freezing temperatures, which was the only time he could run his trucks until the road postings were removed—which didn’t happen until the frost heaves settled back into place and the roadbed dried up.

  “Do ye like the truck?” he asked conversationally.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many accessories,” she said, fingering the buttons on her door handle. He saw her glance over her shoulder. “Or one with bucket seats instead of a bench in back.” She tapped the built-in navigation screen and shot him a sassy smile. “You get lost a lot, do you?”

  “No, but my mother does, apparently. This is her truck, not mine.”

  “Then why are you driving it?”

  “Because she’s wanting to sell it, and I told her that I happened to know someone who might be interested in buying it.”

  “Who? Olivia?” She leaned back in her seat with a chuckle. “That way she and Mac would have twin SUVs, only his is pearl white, not gold like this one.”

  “Actually, I was thinking you might be interested in buying the truck, since you … sold your van.”

  She half laughed, half snorted in surprise. “Yeah, right; I might be able to afford the down payment if I were getting two fifty a yard for my gravel.”