attached to Mac, but that she’d be crushed if things hadn’t
worked out between you?”
“Of course I was. But Sophie’sthe one who kept pushing
me to get a boyfriend—other than Simon Maher,” she said
with a smal shudder. “That’s when I realized I wasn’t setting
a very good example for her. Think about it, Peg; our
kids don’t do what we say, they do what we do. And al
Sophie saw me doing was running out the back door of the
Drunken Moose or hiding in yourvan to avoid talking to a
man.”
“It’s not only men you hid from,” Peg said. “Okay, okay,”
she conceded, raising her hand. “I’l go on that stupid picnic
Sunday. But,” she growled when Olivia broke into a way too
smug smile, “I am not going on a real date if he asks me.”
“He scares you, doesn’t he?” Olivia whispered. “He just
has to look at you with those piercing eyes and your insides
clench and your mouth goes dry and your heart starts
pounding, and you think you’re going to pass out the
moment he touches you and miss something real y
important.”
Peg blinked at her. “Are we talking about me and
Duncan or you and Mac?”
That certainly wiped away her smugness. Olivia brushed
down the front of her jacket. “Yes. Wel .” This time her smile
was sheepish. “Honestly? I’m stil afraid I’m going to pass
out and miss some of the best parts. Oh, Peg,” she said,
grasping her shoulders again. “Promise me that you’l have
a good time Sunday.”
“I promise I’l try.”
Olivia’s hands tightened. “And promise me you’l get over
this crazy notion that you’re some sort of black widow, and
that you’l at least give Duncan a fighting chance.” She let
go with a laugh. “Although I did notice he’s looking a tad
beat-up today—rather like my dear sweet husband.”
“Are you saying Mac fel down the mountain, too?”
Olivia frowned in confusion, then suddenly snorted. “They
didn’t fal down the mountain; they beat the hel out of each
other.”
“What? For God’s sake, why?”
“Because they’re idiots,” Olivia said with a dismissive
wave. “When I asked Mac why he couldn’t stop groaning
this morning, he told me he and Duncan had engaged in a
bit of sport up on the mountain. And then he said that if I
thought he looked bad, I should see Duncan.”
“What kind of sport? No, wait; I know! Duncan had a
sword in his truck this morning, and he told us that his family
goes to some games down on the coast every summer.
They must have been fencing. But I thought that involved
skinny rapiers or foils or something with rubber tips.
Duncan has little cuts al over him.”
Olivia nodded. “I only saw one cut on Mac, but he’s got
several nasty bruises and he’s walking with a bit of a limp.”
“Why would two grown men beat themselves up for no
good reason?”
“Because they’re idiots,” Olivia repeated. “And I guess
because they feel it’s more macho than going to a gym and
running on a treadmil .”
“And you’re hoping I’l date one of those idiots?”
“Hey, I marriedone of them,” Olivia muttered, grabbing
the plastic bin and heading for the door. “And just so you
know, Mac told me they’re meeting up on the mountain
again tomorrow afternoon to have another go at each other.
So try to keep your little tribe of heathens from beating
Duncan up too badly this week, okay?” She stopped and
looked back, her smile smug again. “You, however, have
my permission to attack him in any way you see fit.”
Chapter Eight
Not an hour in to the hastily thrown together campfire,
Duncan was coming to realize several things about Peg
and her children, which taken separately appeared benign,
but as a whole were somewhat disconcerting and maybe
even sad.
Disconcertingly, the little tribe of heathens—which is how
he’d heard Peg refer to them more than once this evening
—were meticulously polite, considerate of both the adults
and one another, and surprisingly quiet for children on their
home turf. Even Pete was subdued, seemingly
overwhelmed to have his dooryard invaded by a smal band
of strange men, and he’d spent the better part of supper
sitting on a log scrunched up against his mother while his
twin monopolized her other side. Peg’s oldest daughter,
Charlotte—who was eight, Duncan had learned—and her
sister, Isabel—who was six—sat quietly at the picnic table
with Mac and Olivia’s two children, using a flashlight to pore
over an atlas of the United States as they talked about the
Oceanuses’ upcoming trip while basical y ignoring
everyone else.
The sad part, to Duncan’s thinking, was how self-
contained the Thompson tribe appeared to be, as if it were
the five of them against the big scary world. But then, what
was to say he wouldn’t have pul ed his family into a
defensive hug if he had suddenly found himself raising four
children al by himself?
Peg was unusual y quiet as wel , apparently also trying to
come to terms with having her secure little kingdom
invaded by men and machinery. He’d caught her staring up
at her barren hil side more than once this evening, then
releasing a soft sigh. He’d also caught her giving him
sidelong glances only to look down at her hands, but not
quickly enough for him to miss the hint of panic in her eyes.
He didn’t know what to make of that exactly, but he did like
the idea that she might be seeing him as something other
than al that was standing between her and prostitution.
Duncan figured he must have taken a blow to the head
during his little exercise with Mac yesterday, because he
stil couldn’t believe he’d asked Peg if she’d let him take
her and her children up the mountain Sunday. For a picnic?
Real y? People his parents’ age went on picnics, not thirty-
five-year-old red-blooded males—unless they were
attracted to a certain contrary, over-proud woman,
apparently.
The amazing thing was she’d said yes.
Duncan took a swig of the kick-in-the-ass ale Mac had
thoughtful y brought to the impromptu outing, and watched
Peg whisper to Jacob—he’d already figured out how to tel
them apart—as she handed the boy something before
giving him a nudge to get him moving. Jacob took exactly
two steps before he stopped and looked back at her, the
firelight reflecting the hint of panic in eyes the spitting
image of his mother’s.
“Peter, why don’t you go with him?” he heard Peg say
softly, peeling her other son off her side and also giving him
a nudge. “Because it could just as easily have been you in
that water. And if it wasn’t for Mr. MacKeage, we probably
wouldn’t have a beach to be having our campfire on
tonight.”
“Come with us, Mom,” he heard Jacob whisper tightly.
Her encouraging smile turned into what Duncan was
coming to recognize as Peg’s I-mean-business scowl when
they stil didn’t move. Pete final y grabbed his brother’s
hand and, taking a fortifying breath that squared his little
shoulders, started dragging Jacob around the fire to where
Duncan was sitting with Robbie and Alec and Mac, leaning
against some spare boulders they’d set into place with the
excavator.
“Mr. MacKeage,” Pete said, his little chin lifting exactly
like his mother’s often did. “Jacob and me made you
something after our nap.” He elbowed his brother. “Give it