“Save it,” Linda Sue said. “He’s married.”

Holly gave a disbelieving snort. “Hank? Married?”

Maggie dragged out another set of dishes and silverware, making a place for Holly. “I’m Maggie,” she said. “We were married last week. You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?”

“Sure you have enough?”

“Plenty,” Maggie said. She knew it was ridiculous, but darned if she didn’t feel like a real wife. She was feeling possessive, and jealous, and cranky. She glared at Hank.

“Is there anyone else we should be expecting? Maybe I should cook up more potatoes.”

Holly Brown slung her purse over the back of her chair and sat down. “This marriage is awful sudden.”

Hank sliced his pot roast. “Maggie and I met last summer when I was at Rutgers.”

Holly and Linda Sue exchanged glances. They looked skeptical.

“Still seems sudden to me,” Holly repeated. “The entire female population of Skogen’s been after Hank for years,” she told Maggie. “He’s as slippery as they come. Nothing personal, but it seems a little odd that he’d go to New Jersey and come back married.”

“It was one of those things,” Maggie said. “Love at first sight.”

Holly poked around at the pot roast, looking for the end piece. “Honey, it’s always love at first sight with Hank. It’s never caused him to get married before.”

Linda Sue poured more gravy over her potatoes.

“This house sure holds memories,” Holly said. “When I was a little girl, my daddy worked for the coop and he’d come collect the milk from all the local dairy farms. Sometimes, in the summer, he’d let me ride with him. Hank’s granny always invited me in for cookies and lemonade. If Hank was here I’d stay and play Monopoly with him on the front porch. Then when he got older-” She stopped in midsentence, cleared her throat, and concentrated on slicing her meat.

Linda Sue, Hank’s mother, and Hank’s father also cleared their throats and became totally absorbed in the process of eating.

Maggie looked sideways at Hank.

“Vern’s dog ate my Monoploly set,” Hank explained.

Linda Sue tilted her head toward Hank. “Does Bubba know you’re married?”

“Not yet.” Hank reached for another biscuit. “I haven’t seen him since we got back.”

“Bubba’s not going to like this,” Linda Sue said. “You should have told him.”

“Who’s Bubba?” Maggie asked.

Everyone but Hank looked shocked.

His mother was the first to find her voice. “Bubba has always been Hank’s best friend. I’m surprised Hank didn’t tell you about him.”

There was the squeal of brakes on the driveway, and Horatio began barking.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Hank said. A moment later he returned with two middle-aged women.

Maggie grabbed the table for support. “Mom! Aunt Marvina!”

Maggie’s mother gave Maggie a kiss. “We were in the neighborhood, so we thought we’d stop by and see how things were going.”

In the neighborhood? It was a six-hour drive. Calm yourself, Maggie thought. This couldn’t be as bad as it seemed. “Things are just fine. Aren’t they fine, Hank?”

“Yup. They’re fine.”

“Mom, Aunt Marvina, I’d like you to meet Hank’s mother and father, and this is Linda Sue, and this is Holly.” Maggie set out two more plates and Hank brought chairs from the kitchen. “We were just explaining to Linda Sue and Holly how Hank and I met last summer while he was at Rutgers.”

Holly stabbed a wedge of pot roast. “I think it seems awful sudden.”

Mabel Toone and Aunt Marvina exchanged looks. “Just what we said,” Mabel told Holly. “There wasn’t even time to get the PNA Hall.” She shook her finger at her daughter, but the scold was tempered by obvious affection. “You’re such a problem child.”

“When she was a baby, she would never eat her green beans,” Aunt Marvina said. “She always had a mind of her own. It’s from her Grandfather Toone. The only Irishman in Riverside, and I tell you he was a rascal.”

Hank sat back in his seat and watched Maggie squirm. This wasn’t doing his cause any good, but he was enjoying it anyway. And he had a thirst to know more.

“Maggie didn’t tell me she was a problem child,” Hank said. “In fact, Maggie hasn’t told me much about her childhood at all.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “She was the terror of Riverside. Ever since she was a little girl, the boys loved her red hair. They just flocked to our doorstep, and Maggie wouldn’t have anything to do with them.” She shook her head. “She wasn’t one to pussyfoot around. If they didn’t take no for an answer, she’d punch them in the nose, or hit them over the head with her lunch box. When she got older, it was just as bad.”

“We thought she’d never get married,” Aunt Marvina said.

“And then, remember that time when she was nine,” Mabel said, “and she wrote that awful word on the front door of Campbell School?”

Aunt Marvina clapped her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “That was terrible.” She looked at Hank, her eyes crinkled at the memory. “We were surprised she even knew a word like that, but then Maggie was always surprising us.”

“I wrote that word on a dare,” Maggie said. “And I went back later to wash it off.”

Mabel buttered a biscuit. “It wouldn’t wash off,” she told Hank. “They had to paint the door. And we had to pay for the paint.”

Maggie’s aunt was right. Maggie was full of surprises, Hank thought. It was easy to imagine her as the neighborhood tomboy. And she didn’t seem to be so different now. She probably still punched men in the nose. Something he should keep in mind.

“So what else did Maggie do?”

Maggie glared a warning to Hank and her mother. “I’m sure everyone is finding this very boring.”

“Not me,” Linda Sue said.

Holly Brown sipped her water. “I want to know more.”

“This is good pot roast,” Mabel said. “And no lumps in the mashed potatoes. You see,” she said to Aunt Marvina, “all she needed was to get married. Now she can even cook.”

“Wrong,” Maggie said. “I still can’t cook. We have a house keeper. She made the meal.”

“A house keeper.” Mabel was clearly impressed. “That’s very nice, but what will you do all day if you don’t have to cook and clean?”

“I told you. I’m writing a book about Aunt Kitty.”

Mabel sucked in some air. “A book about Aunt Kitty. That’s craziness. Aunt Kitty was a…you know what. Why do you have to write a book that’s filled with S-E-X? How will I ever be able to show my face at Wednesday night bingo?”

Linda Sue’s eyebrows shot up under her bangs. “You’re writing a dirty book?”

“My Great-aunt Kitty was a madam,” Maggie explained to Linda Sue and Holly. “She left me her diary, and I’m using it as the basis for a book.”

“Wow, hot stuff,” Holly said. “This should put Skogen on the map.”

Harry Mallone had turned a deep shade of vermilion. He had his hand wrapped around his fork and his knuckles were white. “Over my dead body,” he said.

Helen Mallone patted her husband’s hand. “Watch your blood pressure, Harry.”

Maggie thought her mother-in-law didn’t look especially concerned about Aunt Kitty’s diary. Helen Mallone was amazingly calm. In fact, there was an unnerving peacefulness about her.

Helen caught Maggie staring. “I’ve survived Hank’s adolesence,” Helen explained. “The rest of my life will be child’s play. And now he’s your responsibility, dear.” She sank back into her seat with a look of enviable serenity.

Hank grinned. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Linda Sue fanned herself with her napkin. “Honey, you were the scourge of Skogen.”

Maggie’s heart did a little tap dance. The scourge of Skogen? What sort of man was she living with? Sexy, she decided. Too sexy. She thought about the kiss in the upstairs hall and promised herself it wouldn’t happen again. He was one of those men who collected women like other men collect stamps or coins. Two of his women were sitting at the table. Probably if she looked out the front window she’d see a hundred more camped out on the lawn.

She felt herself flush hot and looked over at Hank. He was watching her, and he was smiling. The scourge of Skogen knew when a woman was attracted to him, she thought. That was undoubtedly one of the things that made him such a scourge.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her shoulders, and sent Hank a warning smile. “All that’s in the past,” she said. “Hank’s a married man. His scourging days are over. Isn’t that right, dumpling?”

“That’s right, sweetcakes,” Hank said. “I do my scourging at home now.”

Maggie felt the smile tighten on her face. This was going to be a long six months if she was going to have to ward off his scourging every day. She’d never put up with much from the male population of Riverside, but then she’d never been swept off her feet by any of them. No one had ever made the earth move when they kissed her. No one until Hank. It was going to be tough to resist the advances of a man who had the potential to fulfill every fantasy she’d ever had.

Helen Mallone turned to Maggie’s mother. “Sounds like a marriage made in heaven.”

“Yeah,” Linda Sue said, “sounds like they deserve each other.”

Maggie didn’t think that sounded especially flattering.

“Goodness,” Mabel said to Maggie, “you look just like your Grandfather Toone when your eyes get all beady and glittery like that.”

“It’s true,” Aunt Marvina said. “Your Grandfather Toone had a short fuse. If some poor soul was dumb enough to insult your Grandfather Toone, your Grandfather Toone would haul off and rearrange the man’s face. He had some temper, didn’t he, Mabel?”

Linda Sue’s eyes got wide. “Holy cow,” she said to Maggie, “you aren’t a face rearranger like your grandfather, are you?”

“Don’t worry about Maggie,” Hank said to Linda Sue. “We decided now that she’s a married woman she’d go easy on the violent stuff. She’s even agreed to stop mud wrestling.”