“You need a permit to carry a gun.”
“I have one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where was it when Durham was beating you senseless?”
“In its holster, tucked deep into the back of my belt.”
“Why didn’t you use it?”
It was Ben’s turn to be astonished. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to escalate things by drawing a weapon.”
At the sound of a large diesel engine starting, she once again scrambled for her clothes.
Ben decided he’d better get dressed as well. “For the wilderness, it sure is damn busy around here.”
“You stay and pack up camp while I go tell them about the spikes.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No! I mean, no thank you, that’s okay.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “You aren’t marrying Galen Simms, Emma.”
“What?”
“Michael’s worried you’re going to marry Simms so he’ll be free to go away with me. You’re not marrying the man.”
“You’ve got no right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Ben dropped his gaze to the sleeping bags and then back up to her. “Maybe not”—he moved his nose to within an inch from hers—“yet.”
She reached up and grabbed the pole holding the tarp and gave it a yank, pulling the canvas and heavy snow down on his head while she scooted out the open end. By the time Ben was able to toss the entrapping canvas aside, all he could see of Emma were puffs of steam coming out of her nostrils as she disappeared up the hill to the loggers.
Ben looked around in the dim light of the slow-breaking dawn, expecting to see scorched earth in all directions from their shelter. The heat from that woman should have melted the snow all the way to Canada.
“It’s not going to work, Mikey.”
“What won’t work?”
Emma stopped packing her gear, walked around her bed to her nephew, and touched his arm. “I know this isn’t easy for you, having your father suddenly show up out of the blue. And I also know you’ve always dreamed of this day. But he’s the proverbial rolling stone, Mikey, who never gathers moss.”
He just looked at her. Since she and Ben had returned this morning, the boy had been watching her like a hawk, silently but expectantly. Emma knew he was concocting something in that overintelligent brain of his, and was waiting to see what had come of his manipulations so far.
“Mikey. It’s very possible Benjamin Sinclair really didn’t know Kelly was pregnant. And I truly believe he didn’t have anything to do with your grandfather’s death. He wouldn’t be here now if I thought he did. But no matter how wonderful you might think he is, that doesn’t change what he is.”
“And just what is he?”
“A rolling stone,” she repeated, continuing to pack her gear. “Think about it. The man’s thirty-four years old, he’s not married and never has been. No children other than you—that we know of—and no commitments.”
“He’s been running Tidewater International for the last five months, Nem.”
“Well, bully for him. But he doesn’t even own a house, Mikey. He lives with his two bachelor brothers and grandfather.”
“Abram Sinclair died five months ago,” Michael told her, causing Emma to stop packing and look up again. “And his older brother, Sam Sinclair, just got married, and he’s thirty-six.” He grinned. “Ben will settle down when he finds the right woman.”
Emma gave him a good scowl. “How do you know all this?”
“It was in all the New York papers last spring, when Abram Sinclair died. My great-grandfather left his entire estate, including his shares in Tidewater International, to some woman he met on the Maine coast just six weeks before he died. She’s the woman Sam Sinclair married.”
Emma snorted. “That’s one way to get back your inheritance. Which only proves that just because biology makes Benjamin Sinclair your father, that doesn’t mean we can trust him.”
“So what are you getting at, Nem?”
Emma threw her pack on the bed and grabbed her nephew by the arms. “You’re not the only one who knows how to use the internet around here. I’ve read a few articles about the Sinclair men myself.” She sighed. “I just don’t want you concocting any dreams about the three of us, Mikey. There is our relationship, and there will be one between you and your dad, but there will never be one between the three of us. Understand?”
“You don’t like him? Not even a little bit?”
“That’s not the issue here. It doesn’t matter if I like him or not.”
Giving up any hope of making him understand, she turned and picked up her gear, then turned back to him. “You sent him after me on purpose, Mikey, hoping something would … evolve between us.” She poked him in the shoulder. “It’s not going to happen, little man.”
What she got for that declaration was a kiss on her forehead. “If anything needs to happen around here, it needs to happen to you. I love you, Nem. I want to see you happy.”
“D-don’t do this to me, Mikey,” she whispered. “Don’t make me cry. I’ve got sports to take out.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Get to know your dad, Michael. But leave me out of it. Please.”
Before he could respond, she pulled free and ran out the door.
Chapter Six
“Women like flowers. How about you call down to Greenville and have a big bouquet sent up?”
“It would cost a small fortune to have flowers delivered way out here.”
“You’ve got a fortune.” Michael gave Ben a calculating look. “Which is good. The way I figure it, you owe Nem several hundred thousand dollars.”
Ben stopped walking down yet another damn tote road and stared at his son. “What makes you think I owe her a dime? And where in hell did you come up with that figure?”
The boy rested his shotgun on his shoulder and grinned. “Child support for the last fifteen years.”
“What!”
“I haven’t been cheap to raise, you
