branch near the fire along with his socks, and then propped

his boots as close to the flames as he dared. He pul ed his

cel phone out of his jacket pocket, then spread the jacket

on the ground and sat down, only to realize the tails of his

shirt were also wet. So he took it off and tossed it up on an

overhead branch, sidled closer to the fire and added some

wood, then tapped a few buttons on his phone to see if it

was ruined.

To his surprise the screen lit up, and to his consternation

he saw he didn’t have any reception. He started to mutter a

curse, but stopped. “Sorry. I forgot you’re trying to be

benevolent. But is being able to cal Alec to come pick me

up in the morning real y too much to ask?”

He was answered only by the gushing stream. He shoved

the cel phone in its pouch, then careful y turned over the fish

before settling onto his side and propping his head on his

hand. He couldn’t wait to bring the Thompson tribe here, he

decided as he gazed across the fire at the pool and

watched its ripples sparkle in the moonlight. Isabel would

go nuts when she pul ed out one of those beautiful trout,

Jacob would cry for her to throw it back, Pete would jump in

after it, and Charlotte would get a crooked smile on her

beautiful face and merely shrug her delicate shoulders.

Peg was doing one hel of a job raising those four kids al

by herself. But damn, didn’t she get lonely for male

companionship? Al that beauty and grace and fierce

determination, that sexy, sassy mouth perfectly shaped for

kissing, that athletic body built to cradle a man; how in hel

did a woman simply turn off desire? How had she gone

from sharing a bed with a husband for … what, at least six

years, only to crawl into an empty bed every night with no

hope of feeling a warm body beside her ever again?

Because if Peg truly did believe Wil iam Thompson had

died from her family’s curse, she wouldn’t dare risk kil ing

off another man.

And what about Charlotte and Isabel? They were female

descendents of the first black widow; what did Peg plan to

tel them when they fel in love and wanted to marry? Had

Peg’s mother warned her what could happen before she’d

married?

He might not have children of his own, but if he did

Duncan figured he’d do everything in his power to make

sure they got to live life on their terms, not pay for the sins of some long-dead ancestor. He rol ed onto his back and

stared up at the summit of his moon-bathed mountain

peeking through the trees, a bit surprised at how angry the

idea of Peg and Charlotte and Isabel living under such an

obscene curse made him. But even more alarming was

how much he cared, not only for the women, but for Pete

and Jacob.

When in hel had that happened? He’d met Peg and

her tribe only a little over a week ago—by being attacked

by them, no less—yet he’d felt almost naked the two days

he’d gone back to Pine Creek. He gave a derisive snort,

realizing he was literal y naked right now and missing the

hel out of them again. As for Peg, he—

Duncan turned to stone at the realization he was being

watched.

Making sure not to make eye contact with the blond body

of fur creeping along the perimeter of the clearing, he slowly

sat up and reached for the skewered trout, smiling when he

saw the pup freeze in place. He laid al four fish on a flat

rock and used his knife to peel back the sizzling skin on

one of them, then flicked the blade to send the skin flying

into the woods in the general direction of his visitor. Using

the knife and his fingers, Duncan began eating the

succulent trout, making soft slurping noises as he watched

the pup slowly creeping through the shadows as quiet as a

church mouse.

He continued eating, again making slurping sounds

interspersed with hums of pleasure. The pup crept out of

the shadows on its bel y, then reached out a dog-sized

paw, snagged the skin and pul ed it back, snatched it in its

mouth, and darted back into the shadows. Duncan used his

knife to peel another trout and flicked the skin a little farther

out into the clearing. “I don’t mind sharing my dinner with a

fel ow traveler,” he said conversational y, keeping his tone

light, “and my campfire. I believe it’s going to turn chil y

tonight by the looks of that moon.”

The pup came creeping back, taking two steps into the

clearing then hesitating before taking another cautious

step, which al owed Duncan to final y get a good look at

what appeared to be a male dog. “Delicious, isn’t it?” he

said when the pup scoffed up the skin and swal owed it in

one gulp. Only this time, instead of slinking back into the

trees, the brave and obviously hungry mutt turned to face

Duncan, its head canted expectantly as it wagged its tail

ever so slightly. “Would ye care for a little flesh along with

the skin this time?” He slipped his knife deeper into the

next fish to leave a good deal of the meat attached, and

tossed it between him and the pup.

The dog pounced on the prize without hesitation, and

once again swal owed it in one gulp. It stepped closer, its

gaze darting from Duncan to the fish to the knife in

Duncan’s hand, then back to him. Then another step, its

thick yel ow tail wagging a bit more robustly as its pink

tongue made a swipe around its mouth and over its nose.

“It looks like I’m going to have to throw a line in the water

again,” Duncan said with a chuckle. He used his fingers to

pul off a large piece of meat, then held his hand toward the

pup. “Come on, fel a. Come eat your fil .”

The pup sat down and ducked its head with a soft whine,

its tail thumping the moss like a drumming partridge as it

trembled with indecision.

“Be a brave lad and come to me,” Duncan crooned.

“Come on, now.”

The young dog slowly slinked closer, crouching

submissively with its tail tucked between its legs, until its

nose was only inches from Duncan’s hand. Duncan

stretched the rest of the way and turned his hand palm up

so it could get the food.

Again the fish was gone in one gulp, and the pup started

licking Duncan’s fingers with such delicate care that he

chuckled again. “That’s a good boy. Come on and have

some more,” he said, reaching for another fish. “So, do ye

live around here or are ye just passing through?” he asked

as he ran his knife along the backbone and peeled away

the entire side of the trout. “Because I was wondering if ye

happened to know of any special areas.” He handed the

dog the large filet, which required three gulps to get down

this time. “Like a cave maybe, or a grotto, or an unusual y

large tree. Anyplace ye might have felt an unusual amount

of energy.”

The pup’s tail thumped as it canted its head to listen,

even as its large brown eyes remained trained on the fish

on the rock.

“Al right,” Duncan said with a chuckle. “I know it’s hard to

focus when your bel y’s rumbling and there’s food around.”

He started cleaning al the meat off the bones only to watch

it disappear down the pup’s throat as fast as he could hand

it over. “I have the same problem when a pan of apple crisp

is in the vicinity. Sorry, pal, but that’s the last of it,” he said,

holding his empty hands out—which the pup immediately

started licking. Once it had licked off al but Duncan’s

fingerprints, the young dog stepped back to eye him. It then