Charmed by His Love

by Janet Chapman

  “The truck’s six years old, Peg, and has close to eighty thousand miles on it, making it very affordable at two twenty-five a yard. It’s also considerably safer than what you were driving. It’s four-wheel drive and has a full frame underneath it, which gives you and your tribe a fighting chance against logging trucks in an accident.”

  “Affording the truck and affording the gas for it is another matter,” she said, even as Duncan saw her studying the dash a bit more discerningly.

  But he was ready for her arguments. “Actually, I believe it gets the same gas mileage as your van did. The rear end is geared for economy rather than towing because it was Mom’s vehicle.”

  “Really?” she said in surprise, glancing at the children in back before he felt her eyes narrowing on him. “How much commission is she paying you to lie to a nearly destitute widow about the gas mileage?”

  Hearing the laughter in her voice, Duncan started to relax. “Well, she did promise to bring me an apple crisp and large bowl of whipped cream when she and Dad come to visit my work site next week.” He smiled over at her. “If I have her truck sold so she can go buy the shiny red sports car she has her eye on.”

  Peg settled into her seat again with a sigh. “I don’t think the bank will give me a loan based on future income.”

  “But I have faith in your future income, which is why on my drive back this morning I thought of a deal we might work out.”

  He felt her eyes narrowing on him again. “What kind of deal?”

  “What if we took one day of wheeler loads out of your weekly check for … say, the next twelve weeks?”

  He could almost hear the gears turning in her brain just before he heard her gasp. “That’s less than ten thousand dollars! This truck is worth at least three times that.”

  “Not in today’s economy. That’s why Mom is selling it instead of trading it in at the dealership, because their offer was an insult. And,” he said when she tried to say something, “I’ve recalculated after walking Mac’s mountain a couple of times, and I’ve put on two extra trucks so that I’ll be hauling at least forty loads a day out of your pit for the next four months. So that’s closer to thirteen thousand dollars for twelve weeks.”

  He stifled a smile when her brain started grinding away again. “But that would mean—wait. I don’t have that much gravel.”

  “Oh, but ye do. That vein is deeper than even I estimated. I dug test holes nearly up to your northern line, and the farther I went, the nicer the gravel was.”

  He saw her glancing around the interior a bit longer this time before she turned and gave the dash another scan—all while rubbing her hand over the leather arm on her seat. Oh yeah; was he a quick study or what? He had Peg pretty much figured out—except for where and why she’d ditched her van.

  “Ten weeks,” she suddenly said. “One day’s worth of wheeler loads for ten weeks and we might have a deal.”

  “What! That’s not even eleven thousand dollars. Are ye trying to steal the truck from my mother? Do you have any idea what it cost new?”

  “And the booster seats stay with it,” she said, her eyes filled with laughter. “I get the title signed over with my first gravel check so I can register it, and we put the deal in writing. But only after I talk to your mother on the phone, which I intend to do the minute we get back from sending Olivia and Mac on their way this morning.”

  And right then, in less than a heartbeat, Duncan realized he could live to be a hundred and ten and never have the woman figured out. He turned to glance out the side mirror to hide his smile, wondering why instead of scaring the hell out of him that actually turned him on. “Eleven weeks,” he said into the pregnant silence. “And you have to bake me an apple crisp drizzled with maple syrup and topped with real whipped cream each one of those weeks.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m always serious when it comes to apple crisp.” He smiled over at her. “But I can be persuaded to share.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

  She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she looked around the interior again. “It’s awful … showy,” she whispered, mostly to herself, he realized.

  “It’s more about safety than luxury, Peg.” He put his unshaken hand back on the wheel when she continued to hesitate, and arched a brow to disguise the black thought she’d just triggered. “Would looking showy prove to be a problem for you?”

  “Some people might feel I’m ra—that I’m stripping my land bare just for money, and seeing me driving around in something this fancy would only fuel the … gossip.”

  Duncan glanced in his side mirror again, this time to hide his scowl as he shrugged a deceptively negligent shoulder. “Buying this truck was just an idea I had, Peg, because it’s safe for your children and reasonably priced. And I know its history, so I know it won’t be breaking down every time ye go to town.” He smiled over at her. “But if what some people might say is more than you want to deal with, I’ll understand if you pass on the offer.”

  He saw her frown as she looked around again, absently toying with the buttons on the door before she suddenly thrust her hand toward him. “Okay, we have a deal. Eleven days of gravel for the truck.”

  He started to reach out but stopped. “And eleven apple crisps.”

  “It’s your waistline,” she said with a laugh, reaching more than halfway to grab his hand and shake it. She squirmed in her seat. “So pull over.”

  “What?”

  “I want to drive it.”

  “You’re supposed to test drive a vehicle before you shake on it,” he said with a laugh, turning onto the Inglenook road and bringing the truck to a halt.

  “Mom, why are we stopping?” Pete asked when Duncan undid his seat belt and opened his door at the same time Peg did.

  “Because I’m going to drive our brand-new truck,” she said excitedly as Duncan glanced in the rearview mirror and saw all four children gaping at her, only to look over and see her I-mean-business scowl make an appearance. “So today’s challenge of no muddy feet continues indefinitely.”

  “What’s infiniditly mean?” Pete asked.

  “It means forever,” Duncan answered before she could. “You’re a bit of a tyrant, ye know that,” he muttered as he got out.

  “Oh, yeah?” she said when they crossed paths in front of the truck. “Then maybe I’ll let you be the boss of them on the picnic tomorrow, and see how long you last before you’re either barking orders or throwing yourself off a cliff.”

  “Not a problem,” he said across the hood when she reached the driver’s door. “I’ll just make sure to wear my sword.”

  Peg sat with Olivia on the steps of the main lodge, watching their children down at the paddock trying to coax the huge draft horses over to the fence with carrots. “Where are Ezra and Sam?” she asked. “I thought they’d be here to see you guys off.”

  “We said our good-byes this morning,” Olivia said with a sad smile. “And I swear it turned into a tear-fest, with me doing most of the crying.” She sighed and looked around. “I guess I’m excited about going, but I really don’t want to leave Inglenook for two whole months, especially with everything that’s going on in town.” Olivia gave her a sidelong glance. “What happened the other day, Peg? Henry and Sophie weren’t too happy I made them help pack the RV instead of letting them stay at the barn with your tribe, but the truth is I was surprised that Alec and Robbie were watching your children. And then I saw you get out of a car and climb into Duncan’s truck, and you looked wet and cold and … angry.” She touched Peg’s knee. “Where’s your van? Did you have to take it in for repairs again?”

  “No, it’s definitely dead this time.” Peg shot her a smile and waved toward the parking lot where Duncan and Mac were studying what appeared to be a site map spread out on the hood of Duncan’s—no, of her shiny gold SUV. “And that’s why I am now the proud owner of that fancy truck down there.”

  “That’s yours?” Olivia said with a gasp, looking from it to Peg
. “You bought it from Duncan?”

  “No, I bought it from his mom, but it was Duncan’s idea that I pay for it by taking one day’s worth of gravel off the check he’s going to give me every Friday.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, Peg. And smart. I know you’re going to love driving it, since I can’t keep my hands off Mac’s. I told him he’s going to have to buy himself an old pickup when we get back, because he’s not driving that beautiful SUV up a half-constructed muddy road to see his work site.”

  Peg snorted. “I guess that’s one way to take over his truck.” She looked down at the men again and pulled in a shuddering breath. “I’m in really big trouble, Olivia.”

  “Now what did Duncan do?” Olivia asked with a laugh.

  “He keeps stealing kisses.”

  Peg flinched when her friend suddenly hugged her. “Oh, Peg, that’s wonderful.” Olivia leaned away. “Wait, how is that big trouble?”

  “Every time I tell him to stop doing it, he kisses me again. Sometimes I think he does it just to shut me up, then sometimes I swear he’s just trying to make me angry. And sometimes,” she continued in a growl when Olivia started laughing again, “I think he does it just to get a reaction out of me.”

  Olivia folded her hands on her lap and tried to quit smiling. “Men do like to push our buttons.” She nudged Peg with her shoulder. “So how do you react? Do you kiss him back or punch him in the belly?”

  “I just stand there like an idiot fighting not to cry, because …” Peg hid her face in her hands. “Because it feels so damned good.”

  “Oh, Peggy,” Olivia said, wrapping an arm around her. “Being kissed by a big strong man is supposed to feel damn good.” She gave her a squeeze. “And the only reason you want to cry is because you’re scared.” She brushed Peg’s hair back to see her face. “And maybe feeling guilty that you’re alive and Billy isn’t?” she said softly.

  Peg sucked in a shuddering sob. “I loved him.”

  “Good,” Olivia said, straightening away. “Then you know what love feels like. But what you don’t seem to know is the difference between a broken heart and a dead one. Yours took quite a blow, but it’s still beating strong enough to fall in love again.”

  “It … I wouldn’t survive another heartbreak.”

  “Of course you would, because you’re stronger than your fears.” Olivia leaned into her again. “I was scared to death to fall in love with Mac, but I was more scared of dying a lonely old widow without ever having experienced honest to God passion. Do you really want to hide in your safe little prison for the rest of your life just to protect yourself from something that might happen? Or do you want to shock the pants right off of Duncan the next time he steals a kiss by kissing him back?” She ducked down to look Peg in the eyes. “Because I’m here to tell you that experiencing honest to God passion with a man who makes your insides clench and your mouth go dry and your heart pound so hard you think you’re going to pass out is definitely worth the risk.”

  Peg felt her lips twitch. “Oh man, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you?” She looked at the parking lot again. “But what if my passion kills him? I don’t think you can even understand what I mean, Olivia,” she said, looking at her. “You can’t imagine anything killing Mac because he’s so big and scary, just like that mythical god … what was his name? Hercules or Atlas or whichever one of them was holding up the world.”

  Olivia suddenly paled and went very still, but then shook her head with a laugh. “Duncan MacKeage is big and scary, too. And he’s got shoulders that appear broad enough to hold up your world. Do you honestly believe that he’s going to die if you fall in love with him? Honestly and truly?”

  “I wrote my family’s curse off as nothing more than freaky coincidences just like you did the other day, until I found myself standing in the middle of my kitchen listening to Billy’s boss tell me he was dead.”

  Olivia darted what appeared to be an uncertain glance toward the men, then took hold of Peg’s hands. “Do you believe in magic?” she whispered. “I’m not talking about special delivery fairies,” she rushed on, giving Peg’s hands a squeeze. “I’m talking about earth-shaking, mountain-moving magic that can’t be explained. Have you ever thought about that kind of magic?”

  Peg felt her lips twitch again. “Not since I found out Mom was Santa Claus.”

  “Then if you don’t believe in magic, how can you believe in curses?”

  Peg blinked in surprise.

  “If one is real,” Olivia continued, “then wouldn’t they both have to be real?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” Peg murmured, looking toward the Bottomless Sea. She looked back at Olivia. “Are you saying you think the earthquake last month was … magic? Not just some freaky act of nature?”

  “I’m not saying anything,” Olivia muttered. “I’m just asking that if curses are real enough to actually kill people, then why wouldn’t magic—the good, benevolent kind—be just as real?” She squeezed her hands again. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question; tell me why you choose to believe you’re cursed but you can’t seem to believe Duncan could be … what was that word I used the other day? Charmed,” she said with a nod. “Why can’t Duncan be strong and powerful and charmed enough to beat your family curse?”

  Peg was back to blinking at her.

  Olivia nodded again. “I thought so; you can’t come up with one good reason, can you? That’s because if your family curse really does exist, then something with the power to break it must also exist.” Olivia folded her hands on her lap again and looked down at the men. “You want to know what real magic is, Peg? It’s finding love when you didn’t even know you were looking for it. It’s honest to God passion. And it’s joy and peace and contentment. It’s lying in bed with a big strong man, waiting to kiss him awake the moment dawn cracks so you can make him think you command the sun.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But mostly, real magic is realizing you have the power to overcome anything, even the fear of having your heart broken again.”

  Olivia stood up when she saw the kids running across the parking lot and looked down at Peg with a warm smile. “You’re made of the same stern stuff I am, Peg; which means there isn’t a man walking this earth who’s big and strong and scary enough to send either of us running.” She bent down to get her face right in Peg’s. “So the next time Duncan MacKeage steals a kiss, you either kiss the pants off him or punch him in the belly. And when I get back in two months,” she growled, the look in her eyes making Peg lean away, “if I find you still lying in Billy’s casket instead of Duncan’s bed, I swear I’m going to show you a whole other kind of magic that’s going to make your family curse look like a blessing.”

  Peg ran trembling fingers through her hair when Olivia turned and headed to intercept the children as they ran toward the huge RV parked next to the lodge. Okay, then; she guessed she knew how her friend felt, now didn’t she? Peg looked at Duncan standing with his arms folded over his chest glaring at Mac, and damn if her insides didn’t suddenly clench and her mouth go dry and her heart start pounding so hard she thought she just might pass out.

  “What do ye mean you can’t help me find out what’s going on?” Duncan asked as he glared at Mac. “You’re a damned ‘divine agent of human affairs’; it’s your job to help us poor, struggling mortals.”

  “I gave my word not to use the magic for a while.”

  “Gave it to whom?”

  “My wife.”

  Duncan snorted. “Tell Olivia her friend is in danger. I’m sure she remembers Peg Thompson, the woman whose problem she commanded me to fix—which I did.”

  Mac shoved his hands in his pockets. “I also vowed to Providence that I would give the good people of Maine time to recover from my little … event.”

  “So you turn an entire state upside down and then just disappear for a couple of months while the dust settles? Tell me, Oceanus; if you protect the drùidhs who protect the Trees of Life, then who in hell protects us from
you?”

  The wizard shot him a grin. “Whoever has the brain and brawn and skill—and courage—to take me on.”

  “I believe you left out one important requirement, because whoever that idiot is would also need some powerful magic.”

  “Have you even gone to visit your mountain?”

  “How? Swim? Somebody shoved it on the other side of a damned fiord.”

  Mac arched a brow. “I thought at the time you were making an unwise choice, but then I assumed there was a reason you wished to be off the beaten path.” He grinned again. “I guess you’re going to need a boat. I do believe my grandfather-in-law has boats to rent. Though come to think of it,” he said, his grin disappearing, “you could probably buy a yacht with what you’re charging me to build fourteen miles of road and five timber bridges.”

  Duncan looked in the direction of Mac’s glance and saw Olivia herding Henry and Sophie up the stairs of the RV as Peg’s children stood waving at them, and Peg—Duncan frowned to see her sitting on the lodge steps, hugging herself as she stared at him. He looked back at Mac. “Talk to your wife about what I’m charging, as she’s the one insisting the road looks as if it’s been there since the beginning of time and that I seed its edges with wildflowers. And building timber bridges is an art.”

  The wizard placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go visit your mountain, Duncan, and sit in silence and feel the power it wants to give you.” He shook his head. “There is one small thing standing in your way of claiming it, though. Well, maybe two things. First is your refusal to accept that you even have a calling, much less your willingness to own it.” Mac’s hand on his shoulder tightened when Duncan snorted. “And two,” the wizard continued, the look in his eyes making Duncan go very still, “the … instrument of that power is hidden somewhere on your mountain, but when you do find it I’m afraid you may not actually be able to reach it.”

  “Christ, is there a reason ye can’t just come out and say what you’re trying to say and not speak in riddles?”

  Mac shoved his hands in his pockets again. “Even I must follow the rules, MacKeage.” His grin returned. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t bend them to give a couple of contrary mortals a nudge in the right direction. So back to your mountain; if you wish to claim your power, you’re going to have to bring along someone to help you. Say, someone with less broad shoulders and much smaller hands,” he said, looking toward the lodge steps.