the equipment unless they’re at least twenty-five years old,”
Alec said, standing up and ruffling Pete’s hair. “Heck, he
only let me start driving it last year, and I’m thirty!”
Pete shot Duncan the evil eye, then looked up at his
mom. “We could ride the school bus to town and stil go to
the Drunken Moose for cimminin buns. And we’l bring a jug
with us for some gas. Repeat and I can take turns carrying
it back to the van.”
“How about if Alec and I take you home,” Duncan offered,
giving the kid a warm smile, “and once we get the van
running, your mom can take you to the Drunken Moose for
cinnamon buns? How does that sound, Pete?”
Al he got for answer was another evil eye—which ended
abruptly when Peg gave the boy a nudge. “Um … if you’re
headed our way, we’d appreciate that ride,” she told
Duncan. “But you don’t have to deal with my van. I have gas
at home.”
“And if it’s the alternator?”
“I can have my brother-in-law, Galen, tow it home.”
“He owns a tow truck?”
She blinked at him, then began herding her children
toward his pickup. “No, he owns a rope,” she said over her
shoulder way too cheerily.
Alec gave a quiet chuckle, slapping Duncan on the back.
“Oh man, are you in dark blue–eyed, sassy-mouthed
trouble.”
“Turn right about a mile and a half up the road,” Duncan
told him as he limped toward his pickup, only to break into
a painful jog when he remembered there was a sword lying
on the backseat. “Wait up,” he said across the hood on his
way by. “I need to make room for everyone.”
Peg left her girls and one of the boys standing on the
passenger side and walked around the front with the other
boy in tow. Duncan opened the rear door and grabbed the
sword, and had started to slide it behind the backseat when
the opposite door opened and the older girl stumbled back
with a gasp just as a shout of excitement came from beside
her.
“That’s a sword!” the boy—he was pretty sure it was Pete
—cried. “Is it real? How come you got it?”
Duncan closed his eyes on a silent curse and backed out
of the truck holding the sword, causing the twin holding
Peg’s hand to scurry behind her again. Oh yeah, it was
already a long day, and the sun was only just now peeking
over the horizon.
“I have it because every summer my family goes to
something cal ed the highland games down on the coast
and we …” He smiled through the truck at the boy, feeling
the back of his neck heat up. “Wel , we al spend the
weekend pretending we’re highlanders living centuries
ago.” He slid the sword behind the seat, then grabbed his
duffel bag and straightened. Smiling again to cover his
grimace when his muscles protested, he tossed the bag in
the cargo bed—only to jump back when he turned and
nearly bumped into Peg, who was gaping at him in the
rising sun.
“What?” he asked, looking down at himself. He touched
his cheekbone when he remembered his bruise. “This? Oh,
I … um, I fel when I was hiking the mountain with Mac
yesterday.”
“Peter, get out of the truck,” Peg said, backing away. She
gestured for her daughters to do the same. “Charlotte, take
Peter’s hand and start walking home,” she instructed.
“Here, Isabel, you take Jacob.”
“Wait,” Duncan said, grabbing her sleeve. “I’m going to
give you a ride.”
She checked to make sure her children were out of
earshot, then turned on him, her nose wrinkling as she
pul ed out of his grip. “Thank you, but I have no intention of
putting my children in a truck being driven by someone who
smel s like a distil ery.”
“What? Hey, I’m not drunk.”
“No, you’re obviously hungover.”
“I fell.”
“Because you were drunk.”
“No, I wasn’t. I just … fel .” He blew out a sigh—which
made her wrinkle her nose again and start walking
backward. “Okay, look, I’l admit that I had a smal swig of
Scotch this morning, but only one sip just to make my
muscles stop screaming.” Too bad it wasn’t doing a damn
thing for his pounding head at the moment. Duncan looked
up the road to see Alec’s tail ights disappearing around a
curve, then looked back at Peg, who was halfway to her
children. “Dammit, quit walking away from me.” He opened
his driver’s door. “Okay, then, youdrive.”
She stopped and turned to him. “Only if you ride in the
cargo bed.”
“What!”
“That’s the only way I’m putting my kids in your truck.”
Christ, she was contrary. “God dammit,” he growled
under his breath, turning and limping to the rear of the truck.
“I didn’t do one damn thing to deserve this. Not one
goddamned thing,” he muttered, hoisting himself onto the
bumper and practical y fal ing over the tailgate into the
cargo bed.
“Come on, guys, we’re riding,” Peg cal ed out, running to
the driver’s door with her children scrambling after her.
Duncan settled against his duffel bag and turned up
the col ar on his jacket, grinning tightly at the little heathen
kneeling on the backseat giving him the evil eye. Forget the
long day; it was going to be a damn long two months.
Chapter Six
Peg sat at the picnic table the boys had helped her drag
down next to the beach and watched them alternating
between using sticks to fling seaweed back into the water
and stopping to watch the equipment working on the
hil side across their … new cove. She in turn was
alternating between keeping an eye on them and studying
her copy of the agreement she had just signed with
MacKeage Construction.
It was al happening so fast, it didn’t seem real.
Yesterday she’d been desperate enough to shoot a deer
out of season, and today she was on the verge of being
able to buy the rest of the materials to finish her house and
also upgrade to a newer used van. And she would stil have
enough money left over to final y stop feeling like she was
one second away from … prostitution, she thought with a
grimace.
Of al the crazy things to have said! When she’d climbed
into her lonely bed last night, Peg hadn’t been able to stop
remembering the look on Duncan’s face when she’d mixed
up destitutionand prostitution. His jaw may have gone slack, but she hadn’t missed the unholy gleam in his sharp
green eyes that had immediately fol owed. She’d spent al
night being hot and bothered by that gleam, and it had been
al she could do to face him this morning without blushing to
high heaven. That is, until she’d gotten a good look at his
face and smel ed his breath.
Peg lifted her gaze to the excavator digging another test
hole and saw Duncan standing off to the side talking to the
logger he’d contracted. Oh, she hoped there was gravel up
there, because if there was, then a good many of her
troubles would be over. But if that horseback continued
running west, al of those big fat checks would be going to
her neighbors every Friday afternoon—assuming the
Dearborn brothers were wil ing to give up growing pot on
their land to sel the gravel beneath it.
She’d had a couple of go-rounds with the two old coots
who’d bought the rickety old shack a quarter mile up the
road last spring. They’d started out neighborly enough, but
not five months after they’d moved in, Evan and Carl had
knocked on her door and accused Peg of sneaking over