With that promise echoing in her ears, Emma ran out of the cabin with all the dignity of Pitiful.
“I hope to come to one of your camp sessions next summer. Mom does, too.”
“That’s great, Jasmine. You’ll enjoy it immensely.” Emma smiled at the girl sitting across the table. The poor darling seemed completely intimidated by Ben. Those were the first words the girl had spoken since they’d sat down to dinner.
“But you live right in town, Jasmine. Why would you want to come stay at one of Emma’s cabins?” Ben asked, looking directly at the girl.
Mikey came to her rescue, for Jasmine was too busy choking on her dinner to answer. “Nem runs weeklong camps in the summer for women only,” he explained.
Ben looked at Emma. “Really? How innovative.”
Emma suddenly felt as self-conscious as Jasmine, only for different reasons. Lord, the man was handsome, with his hair nearly as long as Mikey’s and his beard bristling with his smile.
“That’s been the success of Medicine Creek Camps,” Mikey said. “There are a lot of women who want to hunt and fish, but are put off by the whole macho image. Nem runs ads in all the national magazines, inviting women to come and explore the wilderness. She won’t guide men at all.”
“And the women come?”
“They sure do. Especially to the summer camps. We advertise them as a week’s escape from the real world. One ad asks that if kids can be sent to summer camps, why not moms? We offer fishing and hiking and kayaking, wildlife safaris, and floatplane rides. We ran three weeklong camps last summer and four weekend camps. Some of the women are coming back for deer hunting this November.”
“Interesting. And you don’t guide men at all?” he asked, looking at Emma.
“Not if I can help it.”
“Why not?”
“When some men book a guide for a week, they leave their manners at home. They shed all pretense of civilization and come here to play Rambo. Finding out their guide is a female kind of destroys the fantasy.”
“They become jerks,” Mikey added, drawing his father’s attention again.
Ben’s face suddenly lost its humor. “What kind of jerks?”
The boy shrugged. “Nem usually hires local guides to take them out.”
“That’s why I cater to women,” she explained. “And because it’s good business. I’ve discovered a niche that needed filling. The women of this world are just as interested in the wilderness as men are, or even more so. And they have fun.”
“And this market is what Simms was after?” Ben asked.
“Yup. That and my acreage.”
There was a knock on the kitchen door loud enough to rattle the windows. Emma saw Jasmine’s eyes widen in horror.
“Oh, God. I’m dead,” the girl said, sliding back her chair and standing up. “Thank you for dinner, Miss Sands. I’ve got to go.”
Ben had reached the door and opened it. He must not have liked what he saw any more than Jasmine did, because he took a defensive stand between their visitor and the girl.
“Where’s my daughter?” came a booming voice.
“She’s just finishing her dinner. You’re Mr. LeBlanc, I take it?” Ben answered.
Emma said quietly, “You don’t have to run, Jasmine. We’ll invite your dad in for some pie.”
The girl turned her look of horror on Emma, then blushed. “I have to go.”
“Jasmine! Come on, girl.”
Emma stood up. She stepped in front of Mikey, who was headed for the door, and pulled him to a stop before pushing past Ben.
“Good evening, John. You didn’t have to come all the way out here. I was going to bring your daughter home. Why don’t you have some pie before you leave?”
John’s demeanor suddenly changed, and his face turned as red as Mikey’s.
“Good evening, Emma. I … we can’t stay. I’ve got a Grange meeting tonight.”
“Some other time then, John. Come on. I’ll walk you to your truck while Jasmine gets her school pack.”
As she closed the door behind her, she saw Ben staring at her through the glass. She smiled and led John away from the house and certain trouble.
“What was that all about?” Ben asked.
“Nothing,” Emma answered as she sat down at the table to have her pie.
Mikey snorted.
Emma shot him a warning look, but the boy ignored it. “That was John LeBlanc. He doesn’t particularly care for me. Nor you, either, if he learns you’re Benjamin Sinclair,” Mikey informed him.
“Why?”
“Something about the sins of the father,” Mikey explained as he served himself a piece of pie, not sounding terribly concerned.
Ben shot Emma a questioning look. “Is it common knowledge that I’m Mike’s father?”
“Yes. And John LeBlanc was on duty at the dam the morning it was blown up. He walks with a limp now, and like everyone else in town, he blames you and the environmentalists you came here with.”
Ben stood up and paced to the woodstove. He turned to Emma and his son. “It’s archaic to blame Mike for something they think I did. Does everyone else treat him like that?”
“No, just a few. Mostly those who were directly involved. Durham did for a while, but I set him straight years ago. He was Dad’s closest friend and the one who found him. It’s hard for some people to let go.”
“LeBlanc certainly changed his attitude when you showed up. Why?”
“John used to date Nem,” Mikey piped up.
Emma could see that Ben didn’t like that news, either.
“His kid’s your age, Mike. Which means …” He looked over at Emma. “That you were just a baby when you dated him.”
“Jasmine’s his stepdaughter,” Emma explained. “And I was nineteen at the time and he was twenty-six. Any other questions?”
“No. But I think you should know that you’re not dancing with anyone else tomorrow night.”
“You don’t really intend to go to that dance, do you?”
“Hell, yes. We have a date.”
Emma
