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Secrets of the Highlander
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Текст книги "Secrets of the Highlander"


Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен



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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

He gave a start when the cell phone in his pocket suddenly started vibrating. Who in hell was calling him at eleven-thirty at night?

“Hello?”

“Frank Blaisdell, who owns the restaurant on Main Street, said he heard a noise coming from the direction of the bakery when he was walking to his car. He said it sounded like someone was inside.”

“Ethel? Are you at the office?”

“No, I’m home in bed.”

“Then how do you know what Frank Blaisdell heard?”

“He called me, because he didn’t know your number.”

“He’s supposed to call 911, not any of us personally.”

“I told him that, but Frank thought 911 would get him the county sheriff instead of you or Simon. He tried Simon first, but the boy’s not home tonight. Are you going to go investigate or not?” she asked impatiently.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jack said, striding to the bedroom to get his gear.

“You want me to call Simon’s cell phone? He mentioned going to Greenville tonight. It’ll take him an hour to get back here.”

“No, I’ll handle this,” Jack told her. “Go back to sleep, and tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get word to everyone to call 911 so this doesn’t happen again. See you in the morning.” He strapped on his gun belt as he strode back into the kitchen, then quickly laced up his boots and grabbed his jacket on the way out the door.

This was his chance to catch the little bastards red-handed!

Jack spun out of his driveway and headed to town, nearly colliding with Megan’s sister as she came speeding up the camp road. He spun into a snowbank to avoid her car, then backed out of it, snapped on his lights and siren, and raced toward town with a feral smile. If her look of horror was any indication, Camry MacKeage would think better of it the next time she felt the urge to throw a pie in his face.

Turning onto the main road, Jack quickly brought his attention back to his mission. He sure hoped he didn’t have to shoot his gun tonight. It might be hard to convince the state police that even though he had three beers in his system, he was stone cold sober and quite capable of confronting Pine Creek’s criminal element.

Camry stormed into Megan’s house. “That maniac nearly ran into me! He went tearing out the camp road like a charging bull moose.”

“And you were just crawling in, I suppose?”

“He didn’t even have his siren or strobes on.” She snorted. “He turned them on after he nearly smashed into me.” She sat down on the ottoman, sliding Megan’s feet over to make room. “So out with it, sis. What did you say that sent him tearing into the night like that?”

“I have no idea why he tore out of here, since he left my house over two hours ago. He must have gotten a police call.” Megan dropped her feet to the floor and sat up. “Maybe those brats are at it again. Last night they took the F off Farley’s store across the street and nailed it on Winter’s sign, so that it read Pine Creek Fart Gallery.”

“At least they have an imagination,” Cam said with a laugh, unbuttoning her coat. “Which makes me think the bakery break-in was somebody else. The kids have been sticking to harmless pranks.”

Megan stood up with a yawn. “Or they really like day-old doughnuts. I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me how tonight went.”

“He claims Jack Stone is his real name, and that he hunts down runaway kids.”

“He’s not a biologist?”

Megan shook her head.

“Then that must be what the Internet ad was for. He hires out to parents looking for their children.” Camry brightened. “That’s a noble profession.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “It’s a lie, Cam.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is. He claims he was working undercover to get close to one of the students so he could talk him into returning home to his parents. He said Billy had run away when he was sixteen, four years ago.”

“Then how was the kid paying for school?”

“Some cult he belonged to was footing the bill.” At Camry’s look of confusion, Megan tossed her hands up. “See what I mean? Wayne made it all up.”

“But why? If he doesn’t hunt runaways, then why was he in Canada on your study?”

“Who knows and who cares? I showed him the door the moment I realized what he was doing.”

“So what was he doing?” Cam asked. “Did he tell you why he’s here?”

Megan flushed. “I didn’t give him the chance,” she admitted. “I kicked him out before dinner was over.”

Camry gaped at her. “But that was the whole point of this evening! He was supposed to beg you to take him back, and you were supposed to throw his offer in his face. Come on,” she said, grabbing Megan’s hand and walking to the door.

Megan took the coat she shoved at her. “Where are we going?”

“To town. Let’s go see what your boyfriend is doing.”

“Are you nuts?” Megan said, hanging her coat back on the peg. “Jack Stone is not my boyfriend, and we are not chasing after him.”

“Okay,” Cam said, handing her back her coat. “Then we’ll go check on Winter’s shop, just to make sure nobody broke into it.”

“You need to go back to work, Cam,” Megan muttered as her sister led her outside. “Before I strangle you.”

“Oh, come on, loosen up,” Camry said as she opened the driver’s door. “When was the last time we snuck out of the house on an adventure together?”

“It’s not sneaking out if I own the house.” Megan climbed in the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. “And spying on an ex-boyfriend is not an adventure. What if we mess up his police work?”

“We’ll park on the edge of town and sneak down to Winter’s fart gallery on foot. We’ll watch from inside, out of the way.”

“Winter will strangle you if she ever hears you refer to her shop as the fart gallery. She was not amused by that prank.”

Camry started the car and headed toward town. “So what are you going to do if Jack stays on as our police chief?” she asked. “You are carrying his child.”

“If he stays, and if he wants to be part of my baby’s life, then we’ll come up with some sort of arrangement.”

“He’ll want visitation rights, Meg. Are you willing to let him take your baby for the day?”

Megan looked down at her belly. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, if it comes to that. But once he realizes it’s over between us, he’ll give up and leave.”

Camry reached over and patted Megan’s knee. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll just have Winter turn him into a toad.”

Being careful not to let his feet crunch on the snow, Jack crept along the edge of the buildings on the lake side of Main Street, using the shadows to conceal his progress. He slowly made his way toward the bakery at the end of the street, his ears tuned to sounds of activity and his eyes alert for movement. He was just passing Dolan’s Outfitter Store when a muffled crash came from inside.

He pressed against the side of the building, his eyes locked on the slightly ajar door as he pulled his billy club from his belt. Another crash sounded, followed by an angry growl of surprise, then an even louder crash, as if a shelf of heavy pots and pans had been cleaned off in one swipe.

Dammit, the little bastards were trashing the place.

Jack scanned the lakefront park to make sure no one else was lurking about, then quietly walked up the steps and used his billy club to push open the broken door—only to rear back from the stench.

Their stinky doughnut thief was at it again.

Another violent crash came from inside, sounding as if an entire shelving unit fell over. Jack froze with his foot on the threshold when a deep, wounded scream unlike anything he’d ever heard before reverberated off the interior walls. The entire building began to shake as whatever had made that sound started toward him at a run.

Jack turned to scramble down the steps just as it burst through the door. Realizing he was about to be trampled, he dived to the side and rolled out of the way. He immediately started to rise, but froze when a huge, dark, screaming shadow went tearing past him toward the lake.

What the hell?

Jack jumped up to get a better look but was suddenly grabbed from behind by a large arm of solid muscle wrapping around his throat. He lashed back with his billy club, making his attacker grunt and the arm around his neck tighten. He reared up to butt the guy in the head, but the man simply fell backward to the ground, pulling Jack with him. Powerful legs wrapped around his thighs, effectively keeping him still long enough for his attacker to squeeze the breath right out of him.

As the world went black, Jack’s last thought was that little bastards was a misnomer—because the apparition flying out over the lake had to be seven feet tall, and the guy choking him to death weighed at least two hundred pounds.

Jack woke to whispered conversation but didn’t open his eyes when he realized he not only knew one of the speakers, but that he was equally familiar with the lap his head was resting on—though it was a little rounder than the last time he’d been in this position. Since he no longer seemed to be in imminent danger, he decided to play possum and learn what in hell all these people were doing at the scene of his crime. Besides, the concern in Megan’s voice gave him hope.

“I don’t know why you insisted we bring him to the gallery, Robbie. We need to take him to Aunt Libby, so she can check him over,” Megan whispered urgently, feeling Jack’s head for lumps. “He should be awake by now. He might have a concussion.”

“He’s only had the wind knocked out of him,” said a rich-timbered voice that Jack recognized as Robbie MacBain’s. “He’ll come around soon.”

A feminine snort sounded nearby. “He really is a nerd, isn’t he?” a familiar voice said far too cheerily. “He didn’t put up much of a fight when that guy attacked him, and now I see what you mean about his size, Meg. Robbie tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.”

So the pie-hurling sister was here, too. Wonderful.

Megan gently patted his face. “Come on, Wayne, wake up,” she petitioned, patting a bit harder.

“Wayne?” Robbie repeated, his tone suspicious.

“Wayne Ferris,” Camry chirped, again much too cheerily. “The bastard who broke Megan’s heart. Only now he’s calling himself Jack Stone and pretending to be our chief of police.”

Megan clutched him protectively against her. By God, she did still love him. Jack slit open his eyes and saw MacBain looking at Megan, obviously not pleased.

“Jack Stone is Wayne Ferris? Your biologist from Canada?” the towering Scot asked.

“Sort of,” Megan said. “But he’s not a biologist, and he’s not mine anymore.”

Camry snorted again. “You’re acting like he’s still yours.”

Damn skippy, he was hers. And the protruding belly he was nestled against proved it.

“So who the hell is he?” Robbie asked impatiently.

“He told me his real name is Jack Stone, that he hunts down runaway kids, and that he was posing as a biologist because he was after one of the students on the study,” Megan explained.

“But Meg decided that’s probably a lie,” Camry added. “And I’m beginning to agree with her. He’s not a very competent hunter, is he? He can’t even catch a bunch of brats.”

Not liking the direction the conversation was taking, Jack was about to fake a miraculous recovery when MacBain said, “That was no kid who brought him down. The man was my size.”

“Did you recognize him?” Megan asked, her hand lightly rubbing Jack’s chest, making him feel warm and fuzzy and a little bit dizzy.

“No, he ran into the woods when I shouted. Who else knows that Stone is Wayne Ferris?”

“Just Cam and Winter, and now you.”

“You haven’t told Greylen?”

Megan cuddled Jack closer. “I’m afraid of what Daddy might do.”

“The bastard deserves a good beating,” Robbie growled.

Camry laughed. “It seems the townsfolk are doing that for us. The man’s a mess. What happened to his hand?”

Again, Jack was just about to groan and open his eyes when MacBain said, “Maybe you should ask him. He’s been awake for the last ten minutes.”

Jack’s head hit the floor with a thud when Megan suddenly scrambled out from under him. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head, and glared at her. “Police work is not a spectator sport. You had no business chasing my siren into town.”

“I told you we should have left him in the snowbank,” Camry said.

Jack turned his glare on her. “I’m writing you up for speeding on the camp road.”

She smiled sweetly. “How was the pie, by the way? Were the apples cooked through?”

“What are you all doing here?” he asked, specifically looking at MacBain.

Robbie shrugged. “I often take walks in the evening.”

“Six or seven miles in the dead of winter? Don’t you live up on the west side of TarStone Mountain?”

Robbie nodded. “Did you get a look at your attacker?”

Jack shook his head and tried to get up, only his right knee wouldn’t cooperate and he fell back to the floor with a hiss of pain. MacBain grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet before Jack could yelp in surprise.

“You must have banged your knee when you fell running away from the brats,” Camry said. “But it was thoughtful of them to stop and bandage your hand while you were passed out.”

“The hand is from earlier today, when a pit bull decided I looked like lunch,” Jack said as he leaned on the counter. His knee felt the size of a soccer ball. He tried putting his weight on it and quickly decided that wasn’t a good idea.

“Damn,” he muttered, reaching in his pocket for his cell phone, then sitting down when MacBain slid a chair up beside him. He punched the speed dial. “Pratt, where are you?” he asked the moment the line connected. “Then get dressed and get down to Main Street ASAP. We’ve had another break-in. I’m inside the art gallery. What? No, they trashed the outfitter store this time. Hey, you got any crutches at your house from your football days? Good, bring them along, would you?”

“The closest hospital is in Greenville,” Megan said when he slipped the phone in his pocket. “Cam and I will drive you.”

Jack shook his head. “I need to help Simon. I’ll drive myself in once we get the scene secure.” He looked at Robbie. “I hear you were in Special Forces, and that you might be willing to lend a hand if I need it.”

MacBain nodded.

“Are you up to following the tracks that guy made to see where they lead?”

Robbie gave a slight nod, then looked at Camry and Megan. “I believe you’ve had enough entertainment for one night, ladies. Time for you to go home.”

Camry started to say something, but Robbie softly said, “Now” under his breath, and she immediately closed her mouth and stood up. Megan gave a resigned sigh, and Jack watched, amazed, as the two women buttoned their coats and walked out the front door. The overhead bell jingled cheerfully in the stark silence as they disappeared into the night without so much as a backward glance.

Jack looked at Robbie MacBain. “How did you do that? More importantly, can you teach me to do it?”

Robbie lifted one brow. “It took me years to perfect that trick, so I suppose teaching you would depend on how long you intend to stick around.”

“I’m here for however long it takes,” Jack said, standing up on his good leg and squaring his shoulders. “I love her.”

“You have a strange way of showing it.”

“I sent her home for her own good. A man was murdered on the tundra, and Megan has a habit of jumping in the middle of something first and asking questions later. It was the only way I could think to keep her safe.”

A slight grin softened MacBain’s mouth. “She takes after her father, that one does.” He just as quickly sobered. “You have your work cut out for you, Stone. Megan was devastated when she came home, and it’s been my experience that women don’t recover from broken hearts very quickly—if ever.”

“I’ll eventually wear her down. Any suggestions on how I approach Greylen MacKeage?”

Robbie headed for the front door. “I’d wait until you’re healed, if I were you.” He opened the door. “And then prove you’re man enough for his daughter by taking whatever he dishes out.”

“Wait!” Jack said as Robbie stepped outside. “What has Megan got against warriors?”

Robbie snorted. “She’s made no secret of not wanting to fall in love with one, though I doubt even she understands why.”

“And your theory is?”

“Isn’t obvious, Stone? Megan is the very thing she’s running from.”

Jack stared at the closed door. Holy hell. He’d been planning a courtship when he should have been preparing for battle!

Chapter Nine

W ith a yawn that nearly wrenched her jaw, Megan slipped on her robe and trudged into the kitchen. “Who were you talking to?” she asked Cam, yawning again.

Camry dropped her cell phone back in her purse. “Rose Brewer. Those brats made a mess of her store, so I’m going over to help her clean up.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“Good heavens, I slept the morning away. Give me ten minutes and I’ll go with you.”

“Un-uh. You shouldn’t be lifting stuff, and we don’t need a supervisor.”

Megan didn’t argue, since she was feeling a bit lazy this morning anyway. Besides, with Cam gone all afternoon, she could curl up next to the woodstove and finally start working on her survey. Megan picked up a piece of toast Cam had left on her plate. “Did Rose say if anything was stolen?”

“She can’t tell yet because of the mess. She said the candy rack was definitely a target, and that they must have been inside for quite some time because the place is littered with empty wrappers.”

“They broke in for candy?” Megan asked in surprise. “Then they must be younger than everyone thinks. Older kids would have gone after cigarettes and beer.”

Camry straightened from lacing her boots. “Great. Pine Creek’s street gang is a bunch of ten-year-olds. Rose also said the store reeks of stagnant mud and rotting vegetation, and she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get rid of the smell. Where do you suppose they found mud this time of—”

The doorbell chimed, and since she was standing right beside it, Camry opened the door and just as quickly closed it again.

“Cam! Who’s here?” Megan asked, opening the door back up. “Wayne.”

“Jack.” He straightened on his crutches and hobbled inside. “I have some questions about what you two may have seen last night.”

“I saw you running as if the hounds of hell were on your heels,” Cam said, hanging her coat back on the peg. “You fell, the brats escaped, and then a man stepped out of the shadows and would have squeezed you to death if Robbie hadn’t shown up. Shouldn’t you be writing this down?” she asked, pointing at the notebook sticking out of his pocket.

“Thanks for your statement, Ms. MacKeage. I see you were just headed out, so don’t let me keep you,” he said, opening the door for her.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m staying.”

“No, you’re not,” Megan said, handing Camry her coat. “Rose is waiting for you.”

“If you’re helping Rose Brewer clean up,” Jack said, “keep a list of anything else that was taken, would you?”

“Why, certainly, Officer Stone,” Cam purred, slipping back into her coat. “Anything to help Pine Creek’s finest catch the bad guys.”

“You’ll be helping Rose more than me,” he growled, clearly nearing the end of his patience. “She’ll need that list for her insurance claim.”

Cam started another scathing remark, but Megan quickly intervened. “Would you just get going?” She shoved her sister out the door.

Cam stopped on the porch and turned back to her. “Don’t you dare cook him breakfast. And get dressed,” she hissed in a whisper.

Megan closed the door, turned to find her unwelcome guest staring at her belly, and promptly blushed. “I—um—I’ll get dressed,” she said, holding her robe closed as she all but ran to her bedroom.

The moment she shut her bedroom door, Megan slapped her hands to her cheeks with a groan. That short haircut, angular jaw, and smooth, weather-tanned skin made him even more handsome. And God help her, those deep, sexy, intense blue eyes still had the power to turn her mind to mush.

No, turn her mind to lust.

He may have been a bit slow leaving the starting gate, but once he’d gotten going, Wayne had certainly brought magic to their lovemaking. He had been so intensely focused on her that the entire world had ceased to exist. They could have been a speck of dust floating through the cosmos, so immersed she’d been in the sensations he elicited.

She had innocently gone to Wayne’s tent that evening to ask him about something, but when she’d caught him staring intensely at her mouth as she spoke…Well, the next thing she knew, her lips were pressed against his and she was attacking the buttons on his shirt. She’d gotten them both down to their underwear in five minutes. She could have done it in two, but she kept stopping to kiss each spot of his flesh she exposed. He had the most beautiful body…

Once he recovered from the shock of her attack, he’d lowered her to his sleeping bag, pinned her exploring hands over her head, and proceeded to make maddeningly slow, tender love to her.

Megan shivered at the image of their naked bodies twined together, jerking herself back to the present. Okay. Even though the man in her living room was a no-good lying heartbreaker, she couldn’t turn away anyone who looked as pathetic as he did. The guy was a battered and obviously tired mess. She dressed in slacks and a sweater, ran her shaking fingers through her hair, and returned to the kitchen to find Jack sprawled on the couch, his right leg resting on the coffee table, and his notebook in his hand.

“Did you ladies really see anything, or do I get to arrest your sister for lying to a police officer?”

Megan pulled out the frying pan and set it on a burner. “We heard a god-awful scream come from the back of Rose’s store just as we stepped into Winter’s gallery. We ran to the back window and saw the kids nearly plow you over when they came running out. That’s when the man stepped out of the shadows and grabbed you from behind.” She went to the fridge and took out a carton of eggs, a stick of butter, and a bowl of diced ham. “What did you and Robbie talk about after we left?”

“You, mostly. After the guy brought me down, what did he do then?”

“He ran into the woods when Robbie shouted at him.”

“In which direction?”

“Up the eastern shoreline of the lake. What specifically did you and Robbie talk about, about me?”

“I was impressed at how well you and your sister obeyed him. I asked him to teach me how to do that.”

Megan broke the eggs in the frying pan with a snort. “In your dreams. What else?”

“I asked him what to expect when you introduce me to your father.”

“That’s not going to happen, either. What else?”

When he didn’t immediately answer, she turned to look at him.

“I’m not going away, Megan. It doesn’t matter how big a family you have to hide behind, or how large your cousins are.”

She lifted her chin. “I am not hiding behind anyone.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“What?”

“Are we having a son or daughter?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her belly. “Did you have one of those tests that determine the gender?”

She turned back to the stove and dumped the diced ham over the eggs. “I don’t know what sex it is.”

“Don’t know? Or aren’t saying?”

She eyed him over her shoulder. “I want to be surprised.”

“Good. Me, too.” He looked down at the notebook in his hand. “You said you saw a bunch of kids run out of the store. Did you see how many there were?”

She shrugged, turned back to the stove, and shut off the burner. “They were in a tight pack, so I couldn’t tell.”

“Did you see where they went?”

She frowned, opened her mouth, then shut it again.

“Or did you hear anything? Maybe an engine starting, like a snowmobile? Or…a small plane? Did you see something flying out over the lake?” he quietly asked.

“I didn’t hear an engine. But I might have seen something flying.” She looked away, opening a cupboard and taking down a plate. “It might have been a flock of geese.”

“In the dead of winter?”

She filled the plate with most of the omelet she’d made, set a fork on it, and carried it over to the couch. “Okay, I have no idea what I saw flying out over the lake. Maybe Camry got a better look.”

“Not that she’d give me a straight answer,” he muttered, then smiled in gratitude as he took the plate from her. “Thanks. I’m starved.”

“After you eat, I’ll drive you to the hospital,” she offered as she returned to the stove, resigned to losing her peaceful afternoon.

“I don’t need a doctor,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Give me a couple of aspirins and a soft bed, and I’ll be good to go by tomorrow morning.”

Megan scoffed up her own eggs directly out of the pan, the silence stretching awkwardly between them. It was disconcerting having him in her house, talking as if they were old friends.

Are we having a son or daughter? By God, he’d had his chance to know his child, and he’d tossed it away. She didn’t care if he threatened to hang around until hell froze over, he was not waltzing back into her life.

She swallowed the last bite of egg. “Why did you really come to Pine Creek?”

She turned around and saw that he didn’t answer her because he was sound asleep. His empty plate was balanced on his belly, his arms had fallen to the side, and he was softly snoring.

Megan walked over to the couch, set the plate on the coffee table, then unlaced and took off his boots. Careful not to bang his injured knee, she slid his legs around until he was sprawled lengthwise on the couch, propped a pillow under his head and another one under his knee, then grabbed the blanket off the back and covered him up. She tucked the blanket under his chin, her fingers brushing the rough stubble on his cheek, and without stopping to think, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Her lips somehow decided to linger on his warm skin, and he snuggled deeper into the pillow with a sigh.

She jerked upright, then stalked back to the kitchen. Damn the man! She didn’t care what wonderful memories his being here evoked, she was not letting him off the hook that easy. He wanted to be part of her life, he was going to have to earn her love all over again!

Waking up to whispered conversations was fast becoming a bad habit—though an enlightening one. This time Jack didn’t recognize the male who was speaking. He carefully slit open his eyes and the soft glow of interior lights told him he’d slept the day away. He frowned at the empty house. He was still on Megan’s couch, though he was sprawled lengthwise now; his boots were off, there was a pillow under his swollen knee, and he was snuggled toe to chin under a soft blanket.

The conversation was coming from outside. He saw two people standing under the porch light, but the sheer curtain covering the door window made it impossible to identify the man. He was another Sasquatch though, towering over Megan as she rested a delicate hand on his arms folded across his chest.

Something about their postures tickled a memory at the back of Jack’s mind. Where had he seen Megan looking up at a man just like that?

“Matt told me Jack Stone is the father of your child,” the guy said, his voice menacing as it came through the slightly open door. “And that Wayne Ferris was an alias Stone was using in Canada, when he seduced ye.”

Jack snorted. He hadn’t seduced anyone; it had been the other way around.

“And yet ye have him sleeping on your couch, after ye told me ye hoped the bastard rotted in hell,” the Sasquatch finished in a heavily accented growl.

Jack winced. Megan had actually said that?

“And just who told Matt about Wayne?” Megan stepped away from the man. “I bet Winter told him, and of course your brother told you. Which means my sister can keep your secret for months, but she blabs mine the first chance she gets.”

“Husbands and wives don’t keep secrets from each other. You’ll do well to remember that, lass, when ye find yourself married.”

Jack smiled. No wonder Megan preferred nerds; the men around here were either issuing orders or lecturing her. Wayne Ferris must have seemed like a breath of fresh air. She had both hands on her hips now, and was looking up at the giant as if she could slice him to shreds with her glare.

“I’m not ever getting married,” she said, the growl in her own voice loud and clear. “I don’t need a man messing up my life or that of my baby’s. All we need is each other.”

“That’s telling him, sweetheart.” Jack closed his eyes and snuggled back under the blanket with a smile. If Megan didn’t think she wanted to get married, that was okay with him—for now. He would eventually wear her down.

“As for the favor you want,” she continued, “I still say Elizabeth is your best bet, but if you insist on me, then I’ll do it. The first time you get all macho, though, it’s over.”

Jack opened his eyes to see the man pull Megan against his chest in a way that was anything but familial. What in hell had she just promised, that the Sasquatch felt compelled to thank her with a hug? And what was his relation to Megan? A brother-in-law? He was Winter’s husband’s brother, if Jack had heard right.

And that made Megan fair game in anyone’s book.

He was the man on TarStone Mountain! That’s where Jack had seen him before. He’d love to have the poaching bastard in the crosshairs of his rifle scope again and send him scurrying behind a rock. A rival for Megan’s affection was the last thing he needed right now.

Maybe his knee wouldn’t be better in the morning. Maybe he’d be so helpless for the next several days, Megan wouldn’t have the heart to send him home.

He just had to figure out how to get rid of Camry.

As if conjuring the devil herself, Jack heard a car speed into the driveway and skid to a stop. A door slammed, and a feminine voice called out, “Kenzie! You’ve come for a visit. How nice.”

So the hugging poacher was Kenzie Gregor. Jack tossed off his blanket, sat up, and gingerly lowered his feet to the floor. Now that he knew whom he was up against, all he had to do was figure out what the bastard was up to.

“Shhh,” Megan hissed, lifting her finger to her lips as she moved to block the door. “Wayne’s sleeping.”

Jack rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. Was she ever going to call him Jack, or was he going to have to change his name?

“Don’t tell me he’s still here,” Camry said, not even trying to lower her voice. “Kenzie, did you bring your sword?”

Jack froze in the act of standing up. Sword?


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