himself into a sitting position, then immediately hung his
head in his hands with a curse. “Only problem is, Mac’s
idea of sport involves swords. And not the dul ones we use
at the summer games, either, but real weapons designed
to draw blood. Some of it mine,” he muttered, straightening
enough to run a hand over his torso. “Christ, I think one of
my ribs is cracked.” He waved at the bed beside him.
“Look under my pants.”
Alec lifted the pants but dropped them on the floor in
surprise, then reached down and slid the sword halfway out
of its sheath. “This isn’t your sword. It looks authentic,
like … like Dad’s.”
“It’s my father’s,” Duncan whispered. “Mac gave it to me.”
“But I thought Cal um and old Uncle Ian’s swords were
sold at auction forty years ago, along with several daggers.”
“They were bought by an anonymous bidder named
Maximilian Oceanus.”
Alec squinted down at it. “That’s definitely fresh blood.”
He straightened, arching a brow as he slid it back into its
sheath and set it on the bed. “Mac’s?”
Duncan swung his legs off the side of the bed, then hung
his throbbing head in his hands again. “I might have lost the
battle, but I did manage to spil a few drops of imperial
blood, and the bastard’s also going to be a little slow
getting out of bed this morning.” He lifted his head and
grinned. “So I guess we’re building timber bridges, since
that was our wager.”
“And for the buckets of your blood that he spil ed, what
did Mac get?”
Duncan lost his grin. “He gets me keeping an eye on a
widow and her four little heathens for the next two months.”
“Then you got the best of him after al . You actual y like
little heathens, and I’ve yet to meet a woman who didn’t fal
al over herself trying to get your attention.”
“Oh, Peg Thompson got my attention, al right.” Duncan
ran a finger over the claw marks on his neck. “These are
from her, not Mac. And yesterday, after nearly running me
down with her minivan, I went to her house and thought she
was shooting at me only to walk up on a deer that she’d
nailed right between the eyes.”
Alec folded his arms with a grin. “Does that mean my
summer job comes with hazard pay?” His expression
suddenly perked up. “No, never mind; I’l settle for fringe
benefits. How about if I keep an eye on the obviously
discerning widow, since she doesn’t seem al that
enamored with you? Is she as pretty as she is lethal?”
Duncan sprang to his feet before he remembered it was
going to hurt, his snarl al the more threatening for his pain.
“I even catch you talking to Peg and you’re going to find
yourself limping al the way back to TarStone Mountain.”
Alec lifted his hands in supplication—although he was
stil grinning. “A tad protective, aren’t you, considering ye
don’t seem al that enamored with the widow Thompson
yourself.”
“And pass the word along to the crew; the woman is off-
limits.”
“Including you?”
“ Especiallyme,” Duncan hissed as he bent down to
swipe his pants off the floor. “Unhook the bul dozer you
brought and hook your wheeler up to the excavator,” he
said, careful y slipping into his pants. Christ, he hurt. And
the worst part was that he’d agreed to meet Mac up on the
mountain for another round tomorrow. “Did you happen to
notice any lights on in the dining hal ?” he asked as Alec
headed for the door. “It’s the building behind this one.”
“Sorry, al its windows are dark.”
Duncan slid on his shirt, gritting his teeth against the
pain. Damn, either he’d gotten out of shape over the winter
or skiing required completely different muscles than sword
fighting. “Wait. You got any coffee left in your thermos?”
“Not enough to cure what’s ailing you this morning. I do
believe I packed a fifth of liquid gold in my duffel
bag, though.”
Duncan waved him away with a snort. “Sure, why not? A
shot of Scotch sure as hel can’t hurt. Warm my truck up
while you’re at it, would you?”
“Anything else? Ye want me to crush some aspirin to put
in the Scotch, or dab ointment on your boo-boos, or give
you a massage … Boss?”
Duncan stopped looking for his boots and picked up the
sword, then took a threatening step toward him. “It’s not
getting any colder outside, and I’m not so sore that I can’t
stil outrun you.”
“Hel , if I’d wanted this kind of abuse I’d have stayed in
my nice, warm, occupied bed,” Alec said with a chuckle,
heading outside.
Duncan closed his eyes on a curse, feeling a real y long
day coming on.
And if he’d had any idea how true that was going to be
he would have crawled right back in bed, because damn if
they didn’t pass Peg’s tired old minivan half an hour later
sitting on the side of the road with its hood up about two
miles from her house.
“Keep going,” Duncan said into his radio mike when the
trailer brake lights came on ahead of him. “But keep an eye
out for a woman and four kids walking.”
“Our merry widow?” Alec responded way too cheerily.
“If they haven’t made it home yet, I’m putting her in
the excavator and the little heathens in the truck with you.”
“Since when are you afraid of women?” Alec returned,
the radio doing nothing to disguise his laughter.
“Since I saw this particular woman shoot a deer right
between its eyes,” Duncan said, a bit startled to hear the
laughter in his own voice. Although it might only be the three
aspirin and healthy swig of Scotch making him smile.
Damn, he had a thing for stubborn, too-proud women—
which usual y meant trouble for any stubborn, too-proud
man foolish enough to find himself attracted to one of them.
“There they are,” Alec said, just as the trailer brake lights
came on again.
Duncan keyed the mike. “Swing past them and stop. But
stay in the lane,” he added. “The road shoulders are stil
soft.”
“Whoa, maybe I wil risk limping back to TarStone.”
“Alec,” Duncan hissed in warning as the excavator slid
into the oncoming lane, al owing his own headlights to land
on Peg and her four children standing out of the way clear
across the ditch.
“I’m just saying,” Alec continued as he pul ed back into
his lane and came to a stop. “I don’t have a problem with
deer-shooting women.”
Duncan tossed down his mike and got out of his truck,
watching Peg help one of the twins back across the ditch
before gathering al four children around her.
“Do you know what’s wrong with the van?” he asked,
stopping two paces away when one of the boys scooted
behind her.
“It might be the alternator.” She lifted a hand to her eyes
against the glare of his headlights and he heard her sigh.
“Or it could only be out of gas, because I think the fuel
gauge might have quit working last week.”
“Peg, this is my nephew, Alec MacKeage,” he said when
Alec walked back to them. “He’s going to be helping me
build Mac’s road this summer.”
“My pleasure, Peg,” Alec said with a smile. He squatted
down. “And who are you?” he asked, extending his hand to
the twin Duncan assumed was notJacob, since he wasn’t
the one hiding behind his mother.
“I’m Pete,” the boy said, lisping through a missing front
tooth as he shook Alec’s hand. He gestured over his
shoulder. “And that’s my brother, Repeat, and Charlotte and
Isabel. Wil you give me a ride in your evascator?”
“Wel , Pete, I do believe the boss won’t let anyone near