Spellbound Falls

by Janet Chapman

  “I’ve come close a time or two,” Olivia said as she headed toward her cottage. “But I—” She stopped at the sound of a car cresting the final knoll and turned to see Peg Thompson’s minivan pull to a stop at the end of the lodge driveway. The woman shut off the engine, turned to speak to her children in the back, and then got out.

  “You got something against poor people, Livy Baldwin?” Peg growled before Olivia even reached her. “Or you just got something against me?”

  “Good Lord, what are you talking about?” Olivia whispered, trying to lead the angry woman farther away from the men.

  Peg pulled free, glaring through her welling tears. “I was able to overlook you not letting Sophie come spend the night with Charlotte, figuring you thought I already had a house full, but just where do you come off painting me as a charity case? I got my p-pride, you know,” she cried, her voice breaking when she slapped her chest, causing her tears to finally spill free. “I don’t need those busybody Grange women making me their new pet project!”

  “Oh, Peg, I’m sorry,” Olivia said in a horrified whisper, grabbing her friend’s arm. “I didn’t mean… I had no idea… I’m sorry.”

  Peg pulled free again and angrily wiped her cheeks. “They want to have a bunch of fund-raisers. And Janice Crupp said they’re putting up signs with my kids’ pictures on them at the Drunken Moose and Ezra’s, and in all the stores in Turtleback.”

  “I swear, Peg, I never thought they’d do anything like that. I was only trying to make them realize that Billy is just as much a hero to you and your children as they make Keith out to be.” Olivia pulled Peg into a hug, holding on despite her protests. “I’m sorry. I never meant to imply you needed their charity. I was just pointing out that instead of sending Sophie and me to Disneyland, that maybe they should… that they…” She sighed. “Oh hell, Peg, those women are just a bunch of busybody old twits with more time on their hands than brains.”

  Peg rested her forehead on Olivia’s shoulder with a shuddering sob. “I know,” she rasped. “It’s just that I thought… hell, things might be tough right now, but I am not a charity case.” She leaned away. “Then why do you let Charlotte come here for sleepovers, but you never let Sophie come to our house?”

  “It has nothing to do with you, Peg. It’s me. I get a little crazy at just the thought of Sophie not being in her bed at night. She’s been bugging me to let her go on sleepovers, but I just can’t. Not to anyone’s house.” She shrugged. “And you’re right; I did think I was doing you a favor by not adding another kid to your chaos. I don’t know how you manage four when I have all I can do not to let one drive me insane.”

  Peg blinked at her. “But you have dozens of kids here at any given time.”

  “And an entire staff to manage them,” Olivia reminded her.

  Peg scrubbed her face with her hands, then ran her fingers through her curly blond hair in an attempt to smooth it down. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said thickly. “I’ve just been so frustrated looking for decent daycare for the twins so I can at least try to find a job, that when Janice and Christine cornered me at Ezra’s just now, I just snapped.” One side of her mouth lifted. “And you were the only target I felt safe enough to aim my anger at.”

  “We’ll fix this. I promise I’ll go with you, and together we’ll tell those twits to mind their own damn business and send themselves to Disneyland.”

  The other side of Peg’s mouth lifted into a full-blown smile. “Or you could offer to take the entire Grange on a hike deep into the woods.” Peg’s eyes suddenly widened as she glanced past Olivia’s shoulder, and she covered her face with a gasp. “Oh God, I can’t believe I just made an ass of myself in front of your guests.” She spread her fingers to expose one horrified eye. “Oh, Livy, I’m sorry!” she cried, pivoting around and running toward her minivan.

  Olivia caught up with her halfway there and pulled her to a stop. “Please don’t leave. They’re not guests; they’re just some of my workers.” She gestured toward the van. “Let the kids go to the barn and see the horses, and you and I will go inside and have a cup of tea.”

  “I can’t. I’m too embarrassed.”

  Olivia laughed at that. “You can’t possibly be more embarrassed than I was when I had to face all those news cameras after I lost that family. Please stay.” She leaned closer. “Don’t leave me to entertain these men all by myself this evening.”

  Peg glanced toward the lodge. “Eileen’s not here?”

  “She and John are gone for the week.” Olivia started toward the minivan. “And the guy who delivered the horses is springing for steaks and beer, and we’re going to have a cookout and campfire. And s’mores,” she added for good measure. “Stay and help us celebrate.”

  “What are you celebrating?”

  Olivia stopped. “That Eileen isn’t here!”

  Peg laughed at that, and slid open the side door on the van. “Okay, everyone out. We’re staying for supper. Charlotte, Isabel, you two are in charge of Pete and Repeat. You can take the twins down to see the horses, but you make sure they don’t get eaten or stepped on.”

  Seat belts clicked open and arms and legs went flying as Charlotte and Isabel gave a whoop and started helping Peter and Jacob out of their booster seats. Peg grabbed each of the twins as they came scrambling out the door.

  “You hold your sister’s hand,” she told Peter—or maybe Jacob. “And no running in the barn, and no screaming,” she said first to Peter and then to Jacob—or vice versa. “I said no running!” she called after them as all four children headed for the barn at a dead run, Henry chasing after them. Glancing toward the men, Peg’s face reddened again and she gave Olivia a nervous smile. “You’re sure about this? We can stay just long enough for the kids to see the horses and then leave. I really don’t want to intrude on your cookout.” She stepped closer. “A couple of those guys look a tad overwhelmed by my little tribe of heathens.”

  “Which guys?” Olivia asked, checking out the men. She laughed when she saw that Mac was smiling, Caleb looked like he was a little shell-shocked, and Sam looked rather pale. “Oh no, if you stay for dinner you’ll actually be doing me a favor. I’m trying to decide how my new horse wrangler is around children, and I can’t think of a better test than a cookout with six kids making s’mores.” She slipped her arm through Peg’s and started toward the lodge. “And I don’t know about you, but it’s been ages since I’ve kicked back with a glass of wine and watched a bunch of men do all the work.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mac decided that the age-old adage that the more things change, the more they stay the same still held true, as he could see no discernible difference between an eleventh-century festival meal and a twenty-first-century cookout. In fact, this evening’s gathering could be taking place when man lived in caves, as fire and food and family and friends appeared to be a timeless mix.

  Accompanied by drink, of course; only this evening that meant juice for the children, beer for the men, and wine for the two women, who seemed quite content to sit back and let the men do all the work and the children entertain themselves.

  Mac was afraid he could get used to this way of life.

  He suspected Olivia could get used to it, too, as she appeared to be an entirely different person in Eileen’s absence: quite boisterous actually, and relaxed and talkative and even flirtatious. Although that may have more to do with the wine she was liberally consuming than the thrill of having Inglenook all to herself.

  Throughout the ages Mac had seen more than one woman’s exuberance squelched by a domineering mother-in-law, and though he couldn’t quite fathom how they endured years of such familial trouncing, he did understand why. For as timeless as it was to gather around an open flame, generations of young women had patiently waited their turn to become the matriarchal power that ruled the roost. Yet even after all they’d experienced at the hands of their mothers-in-law, a good many of those young ladies would in turn become the very women they
had spent years disdaining.

  As for children, they too were timeless creatures, mostly concerned with enjoying life to the fullest despite what twists and turns they might encounter on their way to adulthood. And tonight, Peg’s four and Henry and Sophie were doing a fine job of being children: making a mess of their clothes by eating everything their sticky hands could reach, running around the raised campfire pit like banshees, and engaging in minor skirmishes over whose turn it was to roast the next marshmallow under Caleb and his crew’s watchful guidance.

  Mac was almost startled to realize that children seemed to have a knack for living in the present moment, and he wondered if many grown-ups couldn’t benefit from their example. He took a sip of beer—which was really nothing more than watered-down mead—and decided that maybe one day soon he could have a little discussion with Olivia to see what other pearls of wisdom he might share with her about living in the present moment.

  That is, assuming he could ever get her alone.

  And also assuming he could keep his hands off her when he did.

  Which made him wonder if at least part of the reason Olivia was taking her time returning his jacket was that she couldn’t decide how to actually be alone with him. They couldn’t very well set their children on a shelf and tell them to stay put while Mom and Dad ran off to have a little tryst in the hayloft, could they? Maybe Olivia had realized the same thing and was trying to figure out how to make it happen.

  Sweet Prometheus, he hoped that was why she was taking so long.

  Crossing his ankles after Jacob raced by on his way to his mother, Mac stilled with his beer halfway to his mouth when Olivia jumped to her feet with a loud gasp.

  “Ohmigod, I’m such an idiot!” she cried; apparently too busy pointing her glass at Peg to realize she’d sloshed wine on herself. “Peg, you’re perfect!”

  Peg stopped in the act of wiping her younger twin’s nose. “Excuse me?” she said, straightening to glance at the men as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She gave Olivia a questioning look. “Why are you an idiot, and… um, how am I perfect?”

  “I can answer that one,” Caleb interjected, using a flaming marshmallow to point at Olivia. “Livy here just realized she’s an idiot for putting up with a mother-in-law who thinks she knows anything about running this business.” He then aimed the stick at Peg. “And you, my dear, are perfect because you don’t take any crap from anyone.” He pointed the blackened marshmallow at one of the workers he’d brought with him. “Including my idiot nephew, who I intend to have gelded the minute I get him home.”

  Mac thought Peg had handled the young man’s awkward advance quite well, considering she’d had a crying child in her arms when the fool had given her backside a pat on her way by. Peg had merely stopped, sat the crying child on his lap, and continued on her way as if nothing had happened.

  “No!” Olivia cried. “Well, maybe some of what Caleb said, but mostly no. I’m an idiot for not seeing what a perfect counselor you’d be.” She smiled crookedly. “And I just happen to be looking for a perfect counselor, and you just happen to be looking for a perfect job.” She shrugged. “Which makes it perfect.”

  Peg finished wiping her child’s nose and sent him off with a pat on his rump. “And you are either too drunk to know what you’re saying,” Peg drawled, “or insane.” She snorted, Mac presumed to cover her blush. “Unlike your perfect mother-in-law, I don’t know the first thing about what you people do here at Inglenook. But I’m pretty sure all your counselors have college degrees, while I just barely got through high school by the skin of my teeth.”

  Olivia snorted right back at her, again spilling some of her wine as she made a dismissive gesture. “Good Lord, Peg, I don’t know anything about what we do here, either. I’m just a glorified gofer. And I dropped out of college after four semesters to get married. But you,” she said, thrusting her glass out again, “you probably know more about what makes a family work than all of my counselors and Eileen’s boatload of books put together.”

  Mac suspected Peg was right in that Olivia had had a bit too much wine, as he noticed that her intrinsic grace was a bit unsteady on her walk over to her gaping friend.

  “Come work for me, Peg. The pay’s better than anything you’ll find around here, we have a health care plan you can sign on to, and the job is full time and year-round.”

  “But I can’t find daycare for the twins,” Peg countered. “And in the summer I’ll need to find someone to watch all four of my kids.”

  Once again Olivia waved her wineglass. “For crying out loud, we’re a daycare. Just bring them to work and stick them in the craft and swimming programs and all the other activities going on here. What do you think Sophie does all day in the summer? Heck, I’ve got enough clay thingamajiggies in my house to have the mother of all yard sales. Come on,” she urged, nudging Peg with her glass. “Come work for me.”

  Mac saw a tiny flame of hope ignite in Peg’s eyes. “Are you serious?” she whispered, looking around at each of her suddenly quiet children before slowly bringing her gaze back to Olivia. “I can bring them to work with me?” But then the light snuffed out as quickly as it had appeared, and she shook her head. “Eileen would never go for it.” She stepped closer to Olivia, her cheeks darkening again. “She never did like me, you know, especially when I… um, when I was dating Keith back in high school,” she said softly enough that Mac guessed he was the only one who could hear her.

  Well, and Olivia, who suddenly slapped a hand to her chest with a gasp. “You dated Keith?” she cried. “Oh Peg, I’m sorry.”

  Yes, the woman had definitely had too much wine.

  Though it did appear to help bolster her courage, judging by the way Olivia suddenly threw back her shoulders and smiled at her confused friend—who obviously couldn’t decide if Olivia was sorry she’d dated Keith or that Eileen didn’t like her.

  “I don’t let Eileen win all the battles,” Olivia declared. “Only the ones I don’t mind losing. Come work for me, Peg, and I’ll include lunch for your little tribe of heathens.”

  “Miss Olivia,” Henry said, running up to her. “You can’t call them heathens,” he whispered, eyeing Peg before tugging on Olivia’s arm to make her bend down to him. “She’s never going to agree to work for you if you call her children bad names.”

  “Yes, Miss Olivia,” Mac said, drawing her attention. “Are you too far into your wine, or is this another one of your pearls of wisdom?” he asked, stifling a smile when she sucked in her breath—hopefully because she was remembering her afternoon encounter with his bare chest.

  Looking confused again, Peg laughed. “But Henry, they are my tribe of little heathens. Olivia hears me calling them that all the time, because that’s what their daddy always called them.”

  Henry frowned up at her. “And did he also call his sons Pete and Repeat, even though their names are Peter and Jacob?”

  Peg crouched down to be level with him. “It was his term of endearment for them, Henry. After having two wonderful girls my husband also wanted a son, only God decided to surprise us with two boys at once. We thought we were having only Peter, and when another son suddenly showed up, Billy shouted ‘Pete and Repeat!’ right there in the delivery room.” She stood up and ruffled his hair. “And it just stuck. But you can call him Jacob. He answers to both.”

  Peg then thrust her hand out to Olivia. “And if you still feel the same way in the morning when you are perfectly sober,” she said with a grin, “then I accept your offer of employment.” She used their handshake to pull Olivia closer. “But only if I get to take the guests on hikes,” she added over the eruption of her suddenly excited children.

  “Yippee!” Charlotte shouted, grabbing Sophie’s hands to jump in place. “We’re going to be campers at Inglenook!”

  Isabel grabbed Henry and hugged him so fiercely he yelped. “Henry-Henry-Henry!” she sang, nearly knocking them both over as she jumped up and down. “We’re going to see each other every d
ay!” The girl kissed Henry right on his startled mouth. “You can be my boyfriend, and I can bring you to school for show and tell!”

  Henry suddenly looked like he needed a good dose of wine.

  And though Mac doubted young Pete and Repeat understood what all the excitement was about, the boys refused to be outshouted and started running around the patio like screaming little banshees again.

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” Olivia said over the cacophony of screaming children and laughing men as she walked back to her seat and picked up the bottle of wine. “Damn, it’s empty.” She headed for the lodge, waving over her shoulder. “Don’t anyone move; I’ll be right back.”

  Mac beat her there, but then had to grab her shoulders when she bumped into him. “Excuse me,” she murmured, clutching his arms—only to flex her fingers on his muscles as she blinked up at him. One side of her mouth lifted. “You want me to bring your jacket back tonight?”