Ben shook his head. “I had my lawyers check. And a private detective firm. I knew before I made my reservation here that Mike was mine.”
“I see.”
“I had you checked out quite thoroughly, too.”
“Me!”
“You haven’t had a very easy life, have you?”
Emma raised her chin. “I’ve had a wonderful life. Other than losing my parents and Kelly’s leaving, this has been heaven. Don’t you dare pity me.”
“Pity you! Good Lord, woman. I’m in awe of you.”
Emma snorted and grabbed another cookie. Ben plucked it out of her hand and replaced it with her spoon. “Soup first,” he ordered. He picked up the bowl of cookies, stood up, and put them on her nightstand.
Even in his stocking feet, the man had a tendency to loom. He stood there silently and patiently, and Emma knew that if she didn’t start eating he’d still be planted there come spring. She ate several spoonfuls laden with noodles, then pointed her spoon at the door.
“Enjoy yourself tonight, Ben. Consider field dressing that moose by headlight a rite of passage for father and son. I just wish I could be there to watch.” She gave him a brilliant smile as she got in the last salvo. “Mikey’s allergic to moose hair. So make sure you take your own knife.”
Her chin was suddenly lifted and her gasp muffled by warm, wickedly delicious lips—which were just as suddenly gone.
Chapter Seven
“Quit rubbing your eyes. You’re making it worse.”
“I can’t help it. They itch.”
“Why in hell didn’t you let me dress the moose by myself?”
His son looked over at him with red, swollen eyes. “Because we were only trying to get the guts out, not butcher it. You were hacking off some of the best meat.”
“Yeah. Well. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I look at hamburger again.”
“Jeez, Dad. Beef isn’t born in plastic wrap.”
“Mine is.” He was so tired, Ben nearly dropped his head into the steering wheel. He rubbed his own eyes and peered out the windshield to see Medicine Creek Camps finally come into view. The sun was up, but blocked by mountains.
“Shit,” Mike said.
“Now what? Did that damn moose fall out of the truck?”
“Simms is here. That’s his truck.”
Ben saw a dirty black pickup parked next to the house. “It’s barely daybreak. What in hell is he doing here this early?”
“Or this late?” Mike asked softly. “Nem caved in awful easy last night. I never thought she’d really stay in bed.”
Ben remembered Emma saying she was going to give Michael a push, if that’s what the boy needed. Was Simms that push? Had she called him as soon as they’d left last night? If that man had spent the night with Emma, there was going to be more than just moose blood on his hands.
“I tried to warn you. You should have sent her those flowers.”
Ben halted the truck beside the black pickup, then grabbed Mike’s arm to stop him from jumping out. Not taking his eyes off the lighted kitchen windows, Ben spoke softly. “Let me handle this, Mike.”
“You won’t do anything … crazy?”
Ben smiled and let go of his arm. “I’m not making any promises.”
“Nem wouldn’t … she didn’t … she doesn’t even like the guy.”
“Then that makes three of us. Don’t worry—Simms wasn’t here all night.”
He hoped. But hell, who knew women? He certainly couldn’t figure this one out. She was supposedly in love with some unknown guy, yet she had exploded in passion yesterday in the woods. She loved Michael like a son, yet she had sent a letter that would ultimately take him away. She just might be crazy enough to think that Galen Simms would be a good way to give Mike the push he needed to leave the nest.
He should have tied her to the bed last night, out of reach of the phone. Hell, he shouldn’t even have brought her back home yesterday morning. He should have kept Emma in the woods for a week, and made love to her until she agreed to marry him.
Whoa! Married?
Where the hell had that come from?
Yeah, Mr. Brain-dead. The woman is in love with another man. You want to live with that the rest of your life?
Damn right he would, if it would gain him his son. He didn’t love Emma Sands, but that shouldn’t be an issue. Love and lust were two different things completely. He could see himself married to Emma without bringing love into the equation. He would simply offer marriage as a solution to their problem.
And she just might accept—for Michael.
“You going in, or are you waiting for the preacher to arrive?”
Ben turned his head and stared at his son in disbelief.
“Simms,” Mike clarified. “You going to kick him out, or throw rice at their wedding?”
Ben sighed in relief. “It would help if you would at least give me a hint. Who’s the guy she’s suppose to be in love with?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet?” Mike narrowed his eyes, making them barely visible inside all the swelling. “Exactly what happened when you found her in the woods?”
“I’ll write you a letter explaining what happened and leave it in my will.”
“You tried to seduce her, didn’t you?”
“Goddammit! Your aunt tried to knock my head off. I couldn’t get close enough to seduce her!”
“Well, Jeez.”
“If you even so much as whisper about this, I’ll be all over you like road dust.”
Michael vigorously nodded, smiling like a well-fed cat. Which immediately made Ben suspicious.
“It’s a ruse, isn’t it? You invented some dream guy, and put the idea in my head that Galen Simms wants to marry Emma. You’re trying to manipulate your aunt and me into getting together so you don’t have to give up either one of us.”
The boy instantly sobered. “Nem’s hope chest isn’t
