Выбрать главу

water on her face and rinse out her mouth. Why in hel did

she keep thinking she should know someone named

MacKeage from Pine Creek?

She’d been to TarStone Mountain Ski Resort in Pine

Creek—twice, actual y. Once over February vacation her

senior year, when their high school basketbal team had

been so bad they hadn’t even made it to the tournament,

and al the seniors had decided to go skiing as a

consolation prize. And she and Bil y had honeymooned at

TarStone, which they’d been able to afford only because it

had been off-season.

Peg walked to the kitchen, deciding she must have heard

the name MacKeage on one of her trips. And she did recal

a good number of people at the resort and in town spoke

with a slight Scottish brogue like Duncan’s, and that she

and her girlfriends had found it quite sexy—although Bil y

hadn’t been amused when she’d asked him to please rol

his Rs on their honeymoon.

Peg picked up her pace when the cuckoo clock her in-

laws had given them for a wedding present announced she

only had four hours before she had to catch the school bus

in town on her way to her mother-in-law’s to pick up the

boys. She dug through the pantry for a couple of bins and

grabbed the box of freezer bags she’d bought specifical y

for the deer. Setting the bags in the bin, she added a large

cleaver—because she didn’t have time to hunt through the

garage for a hacksaw—then tossed in several hand towels

and a bar of soap before she rushed back out the door.

She stopped on the deck at the sight of the large pickup

sitting behind her van, and drew in a shuddering breath.

She’d never seen it before, but if it were red instead of dark

green, it could have been an identical twin to her late

husband’s truck. Bil y’s pickup had also worn several layers

of mud and road dust and a company emblem on the door,

its cargo bed crowded with a diesel fuel tank and large

toolbox. Except their emblem had said Thompson

Constructioninstead of MacKeage.

The pickup had been the first thing she’d sold after Bil y

had been kil ed, so her heart would stop lurching every time

she’d drive in the yard before she remembered he wasn’t

home. But it had been when she’d caught Isabel—who’d

only been three at the time—glaring up at the driver’s door

with fat tears streaming down her cheeks as she’d shouted

to her daddy to come home now that the sheer force of

Bil y’s death had brought Peg to her knees.

She repositioned the bins on her hip, careful y

walked down her rickety old stairs, and ran along the

shoreline and up the steep bank to the woods. She came to

a stop and took a calming breath when she saw Duncan

kneeling beside the deer, his jacket off and his sleeves

rol ed up as he expertly dealt with the animal.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, setting down the

equipment and kneeling across from him. She held out her

hand. “I can take over now.”

He rol ed the already skinned animal over and

began butchering it with obvious experience. “Thanks, but I

prefer you unarmed.”

Peg ducked her head, figuring he deserved a couple of

cheap shots after what she and her kids had done to him.

Good Lord, those were herclaw marks on his neck, and

she hadn’t missed that he’d been limping at the wedding.

“I’m sorry we attacked you the other day,” she whispered.

“And first chance we get, my children wil apologize to you,

too. They … We’re more civilized than that.”

He sat back on his heels, his steady green eyes

darkening with concern. “You also might want to have a talk

with them about confronting strange men, because the next

guy might actual y retaliate.”

Peg felt her cheeks heat again. “Don’t worry; they got the

lecture of their lives that night. The card you left in my door

mentioned you want to buy gravel,” she said, deciding it

was time to change the subject. She gestured toward the

pit. “But as you can see, it’s underwater.”

He used the knife to point at the far end of the pit. “Do

you own the land to the north? How far back?” he asked

when she nodded.

“I have a hundred and eighty-four acres, almost al of it

running up that hil side.” She shook her head. “But the

horseback runs east to west, and my land stops three

hundred yards in the woods to the west of the pit.”

He went back to butchering the deer. “Would you mind if I

brought over my excavator tomorrow and dug a few test

holes to the north? There’s a good chance that vein of

gravel runs up the hil side as wel .”

Peg’s heart started pounding with excitement. Oh God, it

would be the answer to her prayers if it did. That is, until she

remembered she now owned lakefront property. “It doesn’t

matter which direction it runs,” she said, her shoulders

slumping. “The Land Use Regulatory Commission wil

never let you expand the pit because of the fiord.” She

snorted and opened the box of freezer bags. “Up until last

week, I lived nearly two miles from the lake.”

“Let me deal with LURC and getting the permits,” he

said, holding out several steaks and nodding for her to

open one of the bags. “I’l find a way to meet the required

setbacks.” He arched a brow. “Assuming we can settle on

a price.”

Peg set the steaks in the bin and grabbed another bag,

her heart pounding again. “I guess that would depend on

how many yards you’re looking to buy.”

His eyes suddenly lit with amusement. “Thirty wheeler

loads a day, five days a week for at least two months—or

maybe even wel into summer if I have to go al the way up

the mountain before I find decent gravel on Mac’s land. And

I was thinking two dol ars a yard is a fair price for everyone

concerned.”

Peg jumped to her feet and actual y stumbled backward.

Two dol ars a yard! And with twelve yards in a wheeler,

times thirty trips a day … Holy hel , that was seven hundred

and twenty dol ars a day!

She suddenly stiffened, crumpling the plastic bag in her

fist. “Do you think I just crawled out from under a rock, or

that because I’m a woman I don’t know what gravel costs?

I’m not letting you pay me two dol ars a yard!”

Duncan MacKeage also stood up, his amusement gone.

“Two fifty then, but not a penny more.”

“No!” Peg said on a gasp, taking a step back—until she

realized what she was doing and stepped forward and

pointed toward her house. “You can just get in your truck

and drive back to Inglenook, Mr. MacKeage, and tel Olivia

that I don’t appreciate being played for a fool!”

“What in hel are you talking about? Two-fifty a yard is a

damn fair offer. And what’s Olivia got to do with this,

anyway?” He thumped his chest. “I’m the one signing the

checks, not the Oceanuses, so it’s my profit you’re trying to

gouge.”

“Then I’l tel youthe same thing I told Olivia; I am not a

charity case!” she al but shouted, bolting for the house.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered, catching her within three

strides. He turned her around to face him, his hands on her

arms tightening against her struggles. “Peg, listen to me,”

he said calmly. “I think we have our wires crossed.” He

relaxed his grip when she stil ed, but didn’t let her go.

“What’s youridea of a fair price?”

“There isn’t anyone in a hundred miles of here who would

pay more than a dol ar for stumpage.” She started

struggling again when he smiled. “So if Olivia told you to