she looks real comfortable.”

This one, Duncan decided, was going to cause a

different kind of trouble for her husband, and he hoped the

poor bastard was as astute as he was lucky. “I happen to

know there’s a high-mountain pond just a quarter mile from

here,” he said, nodding over his shoulder. “So how about

you go ask your mom if she’s okay with us doing a little

fishing while she reads? Or,” he said when the girl

hesitated, “you can stay here if you’re uncomfortable

leaving her alone.”

“Mom’s not afraid to be alone,” Charlotte said as she

turned and started up the ledge. “But I’l ask her if it’s okay if

we go fishing.”

“Tel her we’l share our trout,” Pete said, “so she don’t

got to go hungry if she don’t catch her own.” He looked up

at Duncan. “You ai—is—aren’t gonna make Mom fol ow

your clan rules, are you?”

“Not today, I won’t,” Duncan said with a chuckle. “Now,

about those fishing poles; we’l make them the same height

as each of you, so if you see a perfect stick on our hike, you

tel me and I’l cut it.”

Charlotte came running back. “Mom said okay, but that

you might want to take your sword,” the girl said deadpan,

although her eyes were aglow with laughter.

“That might be wise,” he agreed, going over to the

horses and pul ing off his sword. He slid it on over his

shoulders and turned and smiled at the gaping children.

Wel , everyone was gaping but Charlotte; she just looked …

Now why should wearing his sword make her appear

relieved? “Okay, Thompson tribe,” he said, heading toward

the trees. “Let’s go catch us some dinner.”

Peg bit her lower lip watching Duncan disappear into the

woods with his band of merry young men and women, and

wondered if he honestly didn’t realize there was a reason

she cal ed them little heathens. She wasn’t worried about

anything happening to them because she was pretty sure

Duncan was carrying his hero’s badge—and his sword, for

crying out loud. She couldn’t believe he’d real y taken it with

him; she’d told Charlie to tel him that as a joke. But now

she was feeling guilty about lounging here in peaceful bliss;

because real y, what had the poor unsuspecting chump

done to deserve her foisting the children off on him for the

afternoon?

Oh, wait, that’s right; he kept stealing kisses even after

she told him to stop. And worse, he kept making her lay in

her lonely bed at night desiring him.

Speaking of kisses, it had been years since she’d felt as

alive as she had the night those idiots had tried to

sabotage the equipment. Lord, she’d missed having a

rousing fight with a man. There was nothing that made her

heart thump like a good argument if she happened to know

she was safe to say and do just about anything. Like …

wel , like stomp on a guy’s foot and hightail it into the dark

even though she knew he was going to catch her.

Honest to God, she’d felt seventeen years old again.

Peg closed her book, lay down, and laced her fingers

over her bel y with a sigh. She figured the only reason she’d

dared stomp on Duncan’s foot—considering he’d just

threatened to put her over his knee—was that on some

deep, intuitive level, she trusted him. Just like she was

trusting him with her children today. Maybe it was the way

he’d reacted when they’d al attacked him the morning of

Olivia’s wedding. Duncan might growl and posture and

threaten like a grouchy old bear, but the guy was al bluster;

a softhearted, protective cupcake disguised as a big scary

man—which, dammit, only made her desire him more.

Peg rol ed onto her side, tucked an arm under her head,

and closed her eyes on another sigh. Apparently she had a

thing for big men, since that’s what had attracted her to Bil y

initial y. It’s almost like she enjoyed flirting with danger.

Nope, she just liked men, period; big, strong, broad-

shouldered men.

And maybe one overconfident, contrary man in particular.

Yeah, wel , she’d see how confident the kissing fool was

by the time her little heathens were through with him. And

on that note, Peg gave a yawn that ended in a smile and

decided since this was her first day off in three years that

she’d have herself a little nap.

Duncan pul ed plastic bins the size of shoe boxes out of the

rucksack he’d taken off one of the horses and silently

apologized to al the women of his clan for al they’d had to

put up with over the years during family picnics, considering

he’d just barely survived the fishing trip from hel . “These

are the treasure boxes I was tel ing you about,” he said,

whispering to emphasize that he didn’t want to wake up

Peg as he handed them each one of the boxes. “Ye empty

your pockets into them, and then add anything else you find

that catches your fancy.”

“Like what?” Isabel asked in a whisper.

“Pretty rocks, odd-shaped twigs, pinecones …” He shot

her a grin. “That poor angleworm ye refused to feed to the

fishes.”

“I heard him squeal when he saw the hook, I swear,” she

whispered, her little chin rising defensively. “I’m not hungry,

anyway.”

“I’m gonna fil my box with moss, then find me a

samalander,” Pete said. “And bring him home as a pet.”

“Mr. Duncan?” Jacob said as he dug no less than ten

smal rocks out of his pocket and dropped them in his bin.

Duncan sighed, figuring mister was forever etched in the

children’s brains, because only Charlotte had successful y

dropped it today. “You gonna tel Mom that I cried?” the boy

asked, his big blue eyes pleading.

“No,” Duncan said, ruffling his hair, “because then I’d

have to tel her that I cried, too. And your brother and sisters

aren’t going to tel , either, are you,” he said rather than

asked, giving them each a meaningful look.

Al three of them shook their heads, and Charlotte added

a shrug as she gave Jacob a motherly smile. “Fish that big

are tough to eat anyway, so it’s good that you wanted to

throw him back.”

“You can tel Mom that I baited my own hook,” Isabel

interjected. “With a grub, ’cause grubs don’t wiggle and

scream.”

“We don’t gotta tel her I fel in, do we?” Pete asked, his

big blue eyes also pleading yet somehow defiant. “’Cause I

saved myself and got that gosh-dang fish.”

Yes, and the kid had taken ten years off Duncan’s life.

He’d had to wrap Pete up in his jacket and build a quick fire

to dry out his pants and shirt and jacket, because he’d

forgotten to bring their changes of clothes and he hadn’t

wanted to leave them alone to run back and get them. “I’l let

each of you decide what your mother needs to know about

today’s little … adventure.”

“But I don’t think we should tel her you cussed, okay?”

Jacob said. “’Cause she might think you’re unsevralized

and not let you be the boss of us again.”

Duncan nodded gravely. “That might be wise. Okay, ye

have your boxes and a little while before we have our picnic

lunch, so see what treasures this grand mountain is wanting

you to bring home—al while being as quiet as church

mice.” While I go watch your mother nap and calm my

nerves, he silently added, and never, ever underestimate her again.

Jacob and Pete took off, actual y tiptoeing as they went

in search of treasure. Isabel looked to Charlotte for

direction and fol owed her big sister up the ledge where the

two girls started col ecting pinecones from under the lone