“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.