a letter like we do Santa Claus? Hey, Santa’s a he, too,

and he always brings us good stuff, not just suckers and

quarters.” He turned to glare up at Peg. “Girl fairies ain’t as

good as boy ones.”

Apparently seeing Peg winding up a good scowl, Alec

squatted down with a chuckle and opened his free arm. “I

beg to differ, Pete,” he said, standing up with Peter on his

arm and looking him level in the eyes. “Some of the nicest

stuff I’ve gotten came from girls.” He shot Peg a wink. “If

you’l excuse us, I do believe it’s time for a tactical retreat

and a smal discussion on genders.” He waited for her nod,

then walked toward the church dooryard.

“Jacob?” Robbie asked, also squatting down and

opening his free arm. “Would you care for a lift, or do you

prefer to walk?”

“I like being tal ,” Jacob said, walking into his embrace.

The boy looked at Peg when his chauffeur straightened. “I

stil like girl fairies, Mom, ’cause I like that they’re sneaky

just like you.”

Peg felt her cheeks turn three shades of red. “You think

I’m sneaky?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her son for

fear of the laughter she’d see in Robbie’s. “Why?”

“’Cause you been finishing Daddy’s house without

nobody knowing.”

Peg relaxed, figuring that was innocent enough.

“And I seen you sneaking them cuton pages out of the

newspapers last week when Mr. Ezra wasn’t looking.”

Peg stepped back with a gasp. “Jacob! I … I—”

“Come on, Mr. Thompson,” Robbie said with a chuckle

as he strode away with the little snitch. “I do believe it’s time

we retreated as wel .”

Peg turned to the building and covered her blistering

face with her hands. Jacob had seen her stealing coupons

out of the newspaper? “Ohmigod, I’m going to burn in hel ,”

she muttered, “and my babies are going to end up there

with me.”

“What was that, Peggy? Who are you talking to?”

Peg spun around to find Christine Richie eyeing her

quizzical y. “Oh, I was just talking to myself, Christine,” she

said, hiking her purse up on her shoulder, then pul ing down

the hem of her jacket. “I was trying to remember what I’d

written on my shopping list because I forgot it at home.”

Christine’s eye lit up. “Did you hear about our new fund-

raiser? We’re going to redo the park this summer, so the

town wil look as grand as that resort Livy and her new

husband are building.”

“I heard,” Peg said with a nod.

Christine’s smile turned pained. “I know we talked about

a widow’s fund and al , but …” She suddenly brightened

again. “But I heard you’re expanding your gravel pit, and

word is you’re going to be a rich woman by the end of the

summer. Oh, Peggy, we’re al so happy for you.”

“Thank you for that. Wel , I guess I better get go—”

The octogenarian grabbed Peg’s arm in a surprisingly

strong grip. “Wait, there’s something you have to know.

Phyl is Jenkins told Janice after our Grange meeting that

her husband and Chris Dubois have gotten themselves al

worked into a thither over that resort being built, and she’s

worried they’re going to cause trouble.”

“But they’re locals,” Peg said in surprise. “Aaron Jenkins

was born in Spel bound Fal s, and Chris moved here from

Turtleback over twenty years ago. What’s their gripe?”

“They don’t like that Livy’s new husband came in here

and bought up al the land for miles around, and Aaron and

Chris are going around tel ing everyone that he’s going to

shut down the forest to logging to keep it pristine for the

resort guests.”

Peg snorted. “More like they’re afraid he’s going to shut

down their night-hunting instead of their day jobs. Chris was

a year ahead of me in school, and even back then al he did

was brag about the ten-point buck he’d bagged the night

before.”

Christine sighed. “I can’t believe he’s been able to stay

one step ahead of the game wardens al these years with

that big mouth of his. Everyone knows he’s a poacher, but

nobody seems to be able to catch him.”

“That’s because he never keeps the meat or the mounts;

he sel s them to some buyer out of state.” Peg shook her

head. “It seems if there’s a dol ar to be made, Chris finds

the quickest and most il icit way to make it. Everyone

knows he’s the one who found that bird’s-eye maple worth

thousands of dol ars on state park land and had it cut down

and dragged off before anyone realized it was missing.”

Christine nodded up the road. “He and Aaron were just in

the Drunken Moose, and they started in about how that

resort’s going to change our entire way of life.”

“For the better,” Peg growled.

“Yes,” Christine said. She leaned closer. “But I’m

tel ing you this because I heard your name come up in their

conversation.”

“My name? Why?”

“Chris said … wel , he said if Bil y were alive, he wouldn’t

be sel ing his gravel to build that road up the mountain.”

“He sure as hel would!”

Christine pursed her lips and looked around. “Chris is

just angry because his mother sold you that land instead of

signing it over to him, and he claims you al but stole it from

Annabel e for what you paid. And,” Christine continued,

squeezing Peg’s arm again when she tried to defend

herself, “he’s saying that just as soon as you’re done

stripping that land bare, you’re probably going to build a

fancy marina to service the resort because you’re right on

the fiord now.”

“Oh, for the love of— They’re only hauling out of my pit

until they open their own on the mountain. I’m not going to

be rich even by Spel bound standards.”

“I know, honey,” Christine said, patting the arm she’d just

been squeezing. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up, is

al . Most of the people here and in Turtleback Station want

the resort, but it only takes a few to make a lot of noise.”

She went back to squeezing Peg’s arm, and Peg hoped

she was that strong when she was eighty. “But I think you

should start locking your doors, what with you and your

babies being way out there al alone.” She suddenly

frowned. “Speaking of babies, where’s Pete and Repeat?

I’m not used to seeing you without them glued to your side.”

“They’re having lunch with some of the men who are

working at my pit,” Peg said, gesturing toward the church.

“They’re sitting on the tailgate of a truck over there.”

Christine shook her head. “It’s too bad they have to grow

up without a daddy. Little boys need a man in their lives.”

She patted Peg’s sorely abused arm again and gave her a

smile. “But everyone sees what a wonderful job you’re

doing with them, and with those beautiful girls of yours. I

raised my Robert up alone from the time he was twelve, you

know. It’s a sad truth that the only work we have up here is

logging and trucking, and that they’re dangerous jobs. That

is, if our men don’t go off to war and get kil ed; either way,

they’re dead and we’re left to go it alone.” She patted

Peg’s arm again. “But you’re young and pretty, Peggy;

don’t wait too long to find yourself another good man. Bil y

would want you to be happy.”

“I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for my next victim,”

Peg said with a laugh, capturing Christine’s hand and

giving it a gentle squeeze before slowly backing away.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’l be seeing you,” she said,

spinning away and al but running into the Bottomless

Mercantile & Trading Post.

Peg lost her smile the moment she got inside. Dammit to