hands behind his head and stared toward the looming

shadow of his mountain. “I came here to build a road and

five timber bridges, not go to war with a bunch of vil age

idiots, so would one of you please tel me what in hel I did

to deserve this?”

Chapter Fourteen

Just because she had every intention of discouraging

Duncan from desiring her didn’t mean she didn’t want to be

as pretty as possible doing it. But it appeared the best she

could do was look like a dowdy old widow, since her entire

wardrobe consisted of jeans and sweatshirts except for a

couple of funeral and wedding outfits. And although the

funeral dress might be appropriate for how she was feeling,

it wouldn’t be al that practical for a picnic on a mountain in

Maine in mid-April. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even

bought herself a new jacket in four years.

Hel , instead of discouraging Duncan, she was

depressing herself.

“Mom, it’s almost ten,” Charlotte said from the bedroom

door. “You spent al morning getting us ready and now

you’re not even dressed.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Of course you do,” Charlotte said, rushing to the bureau.

She pul ed out a navy sweatshirt and soft pink turtleneck

and thrust them at Peg. “The dark blue makes your eyes

look big, and the pink looks soft and feminine.” She

shrugged. “And jeans go with everything. And here,” she

said, opening the jewelry box on the bureau. “Wear your

smal gold hoops and leave your hair down so it wisps

around your face.”

Peg clutched the tops to her chest and spun away when

she felt her eyes start to sting. “You don’t wear earrings to a

stupid picnic,” she muttered, dropping the sweatshirt to pul

the turtleneck on over her head.

“It’s not a stupid picnic,” her daughter said softly, touching

her back. “It’s the closest thing you’ve had to a date since

Daddy died.”

Peg stil ed with the shirt covering her face. “It’s not a

date. It’s not even close. It’s just … a picnic.”

Charlotte finished pul ing the turtleneck down from

behind, then picked up the sweatshirt and handed it to her.

“Can’t we just pretend it’s sort of a date?” the girl

whispered. “Just between you and me?”

Peg pul ed the sweatshirt on over her head, pressing it to

her face to wipe the tears spil ing free. “Damn, Charlie, no. I

don’t want you … Look, you can’t get your hopes up, okay?

I’m not going … Nothing’s going to come of Duncan and

me, baby.”

The sweatshirt was pul ed down from behind. “Okay, I

won’t get my hopes up. But wil you wear the earrings

anyway? For yourself?” Charlotte walked around and

smiled up at her, one corner of her mouth higher than the

other as she held out the earrings. “Just so Dun—Mr.

Duncan wil see what he’s gonna be missing when nothing

comes of the two of you?”

Peg took the earrings and tried her damnedest for an I-

mean-business scowl. “I’m locking you in your room until

you’re twenty for even thinking that way at eight.”

“I’m nearly nine,” the girl said, walking to the door. She

stopped and looked back. “And if you think I’m bad now,

you just wait until I’m sixteen. Grammy’s already told me al

the tricks you used to pul on her, and she promised to help

me come up with new ones. Wear the earrings.” She made

a face. “But no perfume, okay? Everything you got is so old,

it probably smel s like skunk pee.”

That said, the girl was gone before Peg could even get

her scowl back in place, so she walked to her bureau and

started to drop the earrings in the box, only to close her fist

around them instead. She pul ed her hair out of her col ar

with a sigh as she stared at herself in the mirror,

remembering Olivia saying that kids did what they were

shown, not what they were told. So what was she showing

Charlie today? That she should look like a frumpy old

sexless widow so Duncan wouldn’t mistake her for a

woman?

Wear them for yourself, the nearly-nine-year-old had said.

So when in hel had Charlie gotten smarter than her?

Because damn if the dark blue didn’t make her eyes look

bigger and the pink look feminine. And just when, Peg

wondered, was she going to crawl out of Bil y’s casket?

It took her several tries to slip the tiny hoops on because

her fingers were trembling, and when she took a deep

breath and tugged on the hem of her sweatshirt, she didn’t

know what in hel she looked like because the image in the

mirror was al blurry. Damn; desiring Duncan was messing

with her hormones.

“Um, Mom?” Charlotte cal ed out at the same time the

twins started whooping. “You better get out here.”

Frowning at the eight-year-old excitement she heard in

Charlotte’s voice, Peg ran into the living room to find al four

of her children kneeling on the couch, staring out the

window. Wel , the girls were kneeling; the twins were

jumping up and down, whooping louder with each jump.

“Horses!” Jacob cried. “He brung the horses!”

“We’re riding up the mountain!” Peter shouted. “Mom.

Mom! We’re gonna ride the horses to our picnic!”

Over her dead body. Peg ran to the door and threw it

open to see Duncan riding one of the monstrous horses

she’d seen in the trailer, leading two more monstrous

horses wearing saddles. She ran down the steps, stopping

and spinning back around at the bottom and pointing a

finger. “You stay on the deck,” she growled to the children

fol owing her. “And stop that noise before you scare the

horses.”

“It’s going to take more than hol ering to scare these

gentle beasts,” Duncan said from right behind her.

Peg turned, came nose to nose with a horse, and

scrambled backward up the steps, having to grab Jacob

when she bumped into him—al while shaking her head.

“We’re not riding those … monsters,” she said, glaring at

Duncan when he dismounted.

“It’s the only way up the mountain, Peg, unless ye want to

walk. But it would take so long we’d have to turn around and

start back down just as soon as we reached the top. The

old tote road ends a good four miles short of the summit.”

“But … but …” She waved at the horses that had al

crowded up to the deck to stretch their heads over the

railing trying to reach the children—which Peg protectively

pul ed back with her. “How … Who’s going to …”

Duncan laughed. “The girls can ride old Forget-me-not,

you and Pete can ride Lilac, and Jacob can ride with me on

Daisy.”

Peg pul ed her daughters against her sides, squishing

the boys. “The girls can’t ride a horse al by themselves,”

she said, hearing her voice rise with her panic.

Duncan turned serious. “They’re completely safe on

Forget-me-not, as she’s a veteran heathen mount. Al three

of them are, which is why I asked Robbie to bring these

particular ones. They’re his, actual y.”

“You had him trailer horses al the way here just for our

picnic?”

He nodded. “Aye, but also for myself.” His grin returned. “I

was getting tired of hiking the mountain every time I needed

to work on the road layout. Robbie and Alec wil use them

this summer, too.” He sobered again. “They’re perfectly

safe, Peg. And Charlotte told me she rode horses when

she visited Sophie during Inglenook’s summer sessions.

She can handle Forget-me-not.”

“But …” Peg took a deep breath. “But I’ve been on a