Charmed by His Love

by Janet Chapman

  The door opened just as she was reaching for the knob, and Charlotte pulled her inside. “What’s going on? Where’s your gun? I thought I saw you walking out the tote road with somebody.”

  “Did you call 911?” she asked, leading Charlotte into the bedroom.

  “No, not yet; I didn’t hear your signal.”

  Peg led her over to the window and unlocked it, then pulled her daughter down on her knees beside her. “Duncan’s out there,” she said, slowly lifting the window open. “And Robbie and Alec, I think.” She snorted. “They must have camped out on the hillside, worried about someone stealing their fuel.”

  “Then let’s call the sheriff,” Charlotte whispered, holding up the phone.

  Peg took it from her and set it on the floor. “Duncan said not to. And he’s right; you don’t pull into a town you’re trying to do business in and have the locals arrested the very first night. That’s why I was only going to give them hell if I recognized them.”

  “Is that what Duncan’s going to do?”

  Peg wrapped her arm around the girl. “I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we? Let’s watch and listen; and that way maybe we’ll learn how big strong men deal with trespassers. Um, speaking of which, you might get your very first up-close look at a really angry man tonight, Charlie. So if Duncan comes in here acting like a chest-beating jerk once everything is over, you just smile and nod, okay, no matter what outrageous thing he says. You need to understand that when men get angry, they go a bit crazy.” She gave her wide-eyed daughter a squeeze. “But it’s usually only to cover up the fact that they’re scared we womenfolk might get hurt.”

  “Was Duncan angry at you just now?”

  “Um, maybe just a tad.” She sighed. “Which is why my shotgun is now in the woods and we’re probably not going on that picnic Sun—” The hillside suddenly flooded with light just as the harvester and excavator engines roared to life, followed almost immediately by shouts of startled men.

  “Ohmigod,” Charlotte gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. She pointed to the left side of the woods. “Ohmigod, he’s chasing them with the excavator!”

  Peg gave her daughter a fierce squeeze. “Quit swearing,” she muttered as they both watched two men stumbling over branches and bumping into tree stumps as they ran down the hill just feet ahead of the reaching boom of the excavator, its bucket rattling up and down. “Ohmigod,” Peg in turn gasped when another man fell over the side of the bank, his panicked shout ending abruptly when he hit the water.

  “Um, Mom? Did Duncan have that sword he had in his truck this morning with him tonight?” Charlotte whispered, pointing up the hill. “Or is that a stick he’s holding to that man’s chest lying in front of the harvester while he’s … talking to him?”

  Peg watched Duncan suddenly step back and the man on the ground jump to his feet and start running, not even slowing down when he reached the bank—jumping off it right into the water. “Ohmigod,” she said, hugging Charlotte.

  The lights on the harvester suddenly went off, followed almost immediately by the excavator’s lights, which was followed by utter silence when their respective engines shut down. Well, it was silent except for the sound of splashing as the two men swam toward the east side of the pit, and one of the other men let loose a string of curses when he ran into one of the boulders on the beach. His buddy hauled him back to his feet and they started running to where the fiord cut into the pit and waded into the water to haul out their two coughing cohorts.

  Branches snapped as the four of them scrambled up the wooded knoll to their vehicle. The SUV’s engine started with a whining roar and gravel spewed from its tires as backup lights—and this time headlights—arced through the trees as it backed out of sight. Peg felt Charlotte holding her breath just like she was as they listened to the vehicle screech to a halt on the pavement, then go squealing away.

  “Ohmigod,” Peg heard Charlotte whisper at the same time she did. “Um, Mom? It looks like the men are coming to the house,” Charlotte said, a hint of panic in her voice. She suddenly jumped up. “I guess it’s time I went to bed.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Peg muttered, snagging the hem of her nightgown. “You’re putting on your bathrobe and slippers and coming out to face them with me.”

  “What? But I’m too young to smile and nod at angry men.”

  “Then I guess you’re too young to get your ears pierced.”

  “Mommm.”

  Peg stood up. “Make sure Isabel doesn’t wake up when you go get your robe; I’ll check on the boys. Close your bedroom door behind you, but make sure you’re on this side of it when you do,” she said, pointing a threatening finger.

  Charlotte suddenly smiled and actually nodded. “You’re figuring they won’t dare be angry if I’m there.”

  Peg turned her around with a nudge. “See, I always knew you were the brightest bulb in the room. Now go on, hurry.” Because, hey, what good was having kids if she couldn’t hide behind them once in a while? Peg ran to her bureau, grabbed a bra out of the drawer, pulled her arms out of her sleeves and put on the bra, then smoothed her sweatshirt down with a steadying breath. She’d just made it out to the living room after checking on the boys—having to drag Charlotte out with her—when she heard footsteps as soft as church mice on the deck and a soft knock on her front door.

  “Could you get that, Charlie?” Peg said, giving her a push.

  “I want my birthstone for earrings, not just gold studs,” Charlotte muttered, going to the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob, looking eight years old until her deep breath threw her shoulders back and her sudden smile turned her sixteen. She flipped on the porch light and pulled open the door. “Dun—Mr. MacKeage, what are you doing here?”

  The man actually stepped back in surprise, bumping into Robbie and Alec, his face turning a dull red. “Is your mother here, Charlotte?”

  Her precious, sweet little heathen nodded. “Would you like to speak with her?”

  Peg walked over and took hold of her daughter’s shoulders. “Can I help you, Mr. MacKeage?” she asked through the missing pane on her storm door.

  “Could you come outside a moment, please?”

  Peg’s eyes widened in horror and she shook her head. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I was told in no uncertain terms not to step foot outside of my house after dark ever again.”

  Alec turned away, politely covering his mouth when he started coughing—which must have been contagious because Robbie walked to the rail to clear his throat.

  Duncan sighed through the missing glass hard enough that Peg actually felt her hair move. “I’m sure whoever set those terms would make an exception,” he said way too quietly. He opened the storm door and stepped back, and Peg pushed Charlotte out ahead of her—smiling when she heard him curse under his breath.

  “We’re both dying to hear what all the commotion was about,” Peg said brightly, ignoring Duncan in favor of addressing Alec and Robbie.

  Charlotte, however, didn’t seem at all concerned about smiling and nodding—although come to think of it, none of the men seemed all that angry. In fact, they appeared downright proud of themselves for having scared the bejeezus out of the trespassers. Well, except for Duncan.

  Charlotte pulled away from Peg and turned to him. “Was that your sword I saw you holding to that man’s chest?” she asked.

  His startled gaze rose to Peg, two flags of red coloring his cheeks again.

  “No, Charlie,” Peg said quickly, pulling the girl back against her. “I’m sure it was just a stick like we thought. So, were they carrying fuel cans when you caught them?”

  “No,” Robbie said, drawing her attention as he held out his hand. “They were carrying a couple of these.”

  “Bags of sugar?” Charlotte said in surprise.

  Peg looked at Duncan. “They were going to sugar your fuel? But why?” She looked at Robbie, then Alec, then back at Duncan. “You hired most of the available local men, so why would they
try to sabotage your equipment?”

  “We doubt they were construction workers,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s been talk around town of some opposition to having a large resort built here.” He gestured at the busted bag of sugar. “This is a game changer, Peg, and reason enough for you to give me your word that ye won’t try to take matters into your own hands again like you did tonight.” He looked down at Charlotte. “I want your word, too.”

  Charlotte canted her head up at Peg. “I agree with him, Mom.” She looked back at Duncan. “We promise to stay inside at night from now on. Do we call you when something happens, then? Because it takes forever for anyone to get here.”

  Peg saw Duncan relax. “You won’t have to call me, because as long as any of my equipment is on your property there’ll be someone guarding it just like we were tonight. And I’m building a temporary camp a mile up the road for my crew to stay at through the week, so there’ll be plenty of help close by.” He lifted his gaze to Peg, and the softness left his eyes. “I’ll hear your promise as well.”

  Okay, she’d like to think she was at least as bright as her daughter. “You’ve got it,” she said with a nod, nodding at Robbie and Alec before pushing Charlotte ahead of her toward the door. “If you’ll excuse us now, I’d like to salvage what I can of a night’s sleep. Charlie, go on in to bed; I’ll only be a minute,” she said, pushing the girl inside, then grabbing the knob. She waited until Charlotte was heading down the hall before she shut the door and turned and walked back to Duncan. “Thank you,” she said, “for not treating my daughter like she’s eight.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and rested back on his hips. “I hope ye know you have trouble coming in another six or seven years with her.”

  Peg started to beam him a smile but turned when she realized Alec and Robbie were leaving. “And thank you guys for … tonight’s entertainment.”

  “It was our pleasure, lass,” Robbie said with a wave over his shoulder.

  Peg turned back and stepped right up to Duncan, and even stood on her tiptoes to make sure he didn’t miss her scowl. “You ever manhandle me like that again,” she softly growled, “or even mention putting me over your knee, I’m going to make your little sport up on the mountain with Mac seem like child’s play. Speaking of which,” she said, dropping back to her heels and stepping away, “Sunday’s picnic is off.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Give me one good reason why I should go, after your threatening me tonight.”

  “Because ye might be the most contrary woman I’ve ever met, but you’re not a coward.” He stepped closer. “Don’t make me pull out my hero’s badge, Peg.”

  “You’re using my children?”

  He nodded; the porch light exposing the gleam in his eyes. “We MacKeages can be real bastards like that sometimes.” He pressed a finger to her shoulder, snagged the strap of her bra right through the material, and let it go with a soft snap. “I see you’re also as smart as ye are contrary,” he murmured, palming her face in his warm broad hands and kissing her right on her startled mouth. He lingered just long enough for Peg to realize he honest to God was kissing her, then straightened away and was gone before she could sputter in protest. “Ye manage to stay out of trouble the rest of the night, and ye just might find some cinnamon buns on your doorstep in the morning,” he said over his shoulder as he descended the stairs in one leap and strode off toward the hillside—leaving Peg staring after him with her hands balled into fists at her sides.

  She ran her tongue over her lips and suddenly pressed her hands over the sharp ache in her chest as she tried to remember the last time she’d felt a man’s mouth on hers. Dammit, she didn’t want to like Duncan MacKeage.

  Chapter Ten

  Duncan lay sprawled spread-eagle on the cold granite ledge, his chest heaving painfully as he tried to catch his breath. He turned his gaze away from the gathering storm clouds to glare at Mac. “I thought we agreed no magic.”

  Considering that last blow should have rendered the bastard unconscious, Duncan didn’t know where Mac got the strength even to shrug. “I guess I forgot.”

  “Ye forgot you were only supposed to use mortal brain and brawn?”

  “And skill.”

  “Speaking of the magic,” Duncan said in a winded growl. He rubbed an itch on his belly, only to sigh at the feel of blood on his fingers. “I don’t suppose ye could bottle up some of your energy to leave with me?” He used his next growl to propel himself into a sitting position. “Say, enough to put a protective bubble around my operation and Peg’s property until ye get back?”

  Mac also attempted to sit up but fell back with a groan. “Sorry, my friend, but I’m not even certain I could call forth enough energy to walk home right now. Or slow that storm’s arrival until after we get off this mountain,” he muttered, making a halfhearted attempt to gesture at the sky.

  Duncan rubbed his face to hide his smile.

  “You’re a quick study,” the wizard continued. “One afternoon of swordplay and you’re already anticipating my next move.”

  Duncan reached over to snag his shirt and balled it up under his head as he lay back down. “Enough that you had to resort to trickery, apparently.”

  “I did not conjure up that rabbit.”

  “You mean the one that appeared out of nowhere just as I was about to cut you off at the knees?”

  “More like the one now hopping home with a fantastical tale to tell its buddies, along with some missing fur to prove it.”

  “So about that protective bubble,” Duncan said, smiling up at the sky. “If ye can’t bottle it up, could you at least put something in place before ye leave?”

  “Why don’t you ask de Gairn?”

  He turned his head in surprise. “Matt? Why would I ask a drùidh to work the magic for me when I can go straight to his boss? It’s your road I’m building and your wife’s friend I’m keeping an eye on.”

  “Or you could ask Ian,” Mac continued as if he hadn’t even spoken. He arched a brow when Duncan shot him a scowl. “What; are you not pleased your nephew found the seat of his power on TarStone, as does that not free you of the mountain’s hold?”

  Duncan looked up at the roiling clouds. “I’ve never had a problem with taking my place running the resort when the time comes.”

  He heard Mac chuckle. “Are you honestly trying to lie to me, MacKeage? Or yourself?”

  “Well, fine then. If ye don’t want to help me protect your resort road, I’ll simply buy new equipment when they sabotage mine and send you the bill.” Duncan looked over at him. “And you can keep digging into your bottomless satchel of money every time I have to rebuild one of the bridges when the bastards start blowing them up.”

  “This can’t be the first time you’ve faced opposition to a project you were working on,” Mac said. “And since you claim you have no magic of your own, what did you do to protect your equipment and ensure your crew’s safety in the past?”

  “I didn’t price security into this job because I figured you had my back.”

  He heard Mac chuckle again. “It appears to me you need only hire Peg and her eldest daughter. May I ask why you didn’t tell her you were camping on the hillside?”

  “I didn’t want her worried that I was expecting trouble.”

  “Your heritage is showing, my friend. Did it never occur to you the lady might be smart enough to realize all the activity in her pit was going to draw no-good opportunists from miles around?”

  Duncan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “I guess I forgot,” he drawled, grinning when Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of which, ye wouldn’t have something in your bag of tricks to make a mere mortal forget, would you?”

  “Now what did Peg do? Or do you wish for her to forget something you did?”

  Duncan rolled onto his back, closing his eyes on a sigh. “I’m afraid I threatened to take the flat of my sword to her backside,” he muttered, “then added insul
t to injury by throwing her shotgun in the woods and telling her that if I ever caught her outside after dark again I was putting her over my knee.”

  “By the gods, you’re an idiot.”

  Duncan rolled onto his elbow. “She was going after those men all by herself. And she had Charlotte keeping watch in the window with the phone in her hand, waiting to call the sheriff and a neighbor if she heard a gunshot. The kid’s eight!”

  Mac also rolled onto his side. “What would you have had Peg do, then, since she didn’t know you were guarding your own equipment because you never told her?”

  “She should have called the sheriff the moment she heard the vehicle drive in.”

  Mac made a dismissive gesture. “There appears to be a strong reluctance to call the authorities around here—especially from the women. The first time I saw Olivia, she was being attacked by one of her male employees, and when I routed the bastard she refused to report the crime, claiming he was just a dumb kid. Your own self-reliance is a matter of pride, MacKeage, and yet you’re angry that Peg was doing nothing more than you were.” The wizard rolled onto his back with a snort. “If that’s not living in your father’s world, then what is?”

  Duncan also rolled onto his back just as he felt a raindrop land on his chest. “So I guess getting something to make her forget I’m an idiot is out?”

  “Exactly how attracted are you to Peg?” Mac asked quietly.

  Duncan snapped his head around, then bolted upright when he saw the look in the wizard’s eyes. “Why?”

  Mac also sat up. “Because if you are seriously attracted to her, I’m afraid making Peg forget you’re an idiot may be the least of your worries.”

  “Why?” he repeated in a growl just as another raindrop hit his shoulder.

  Mac reached under the stunted pine and grabbed his sword’s harness. “Last night Olivia told me that Peg believes the women in her family are cursed.”

  “Cursed how, exactly?” Duncan asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “It appears the life expectancy of husbands for the last five generations of female descendents of Gretchen Robinson is quite short; the first poor bastards dying before the age of thirty, and ensuing husbands dying—in freak accidents, according to Peg—within a few years of the women remarrying.”