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?

Gregor gave a belly laugh. “Sorry, I left it at home.” He looked down at Megan, and Jack saw the bastard smile. “Should I run up the mountain and fetch it, lass, and rid ye of your troublesome boyfriend once and for all?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Megan snapped. “And he’s only on the couch because I couldn’t carry him home.”

Time to end this farce, he supposed. “I’m awake,” Jack called out. “And I don’t know which hurts more, my knee or my wounded feelings.”

Megan swung open the door and stepped inside but was quickly herded out of the way by Camry. “Liars don’t have feelings,” Camry said, walking directly up to the coffee table, presumably so Jack could better see her scowl. “Game’s up, lover boy. Kenzie’s going to help you home.”

Jack formed a T with his hands. “Truce. I’ve had less than five hours sleep in the last two days, and every damn one of my muscles ache. And since you’re not the sort of woman who kicks a man when he’s down, could we please stop the salvos until I’m back on my feet?”

“That’s the sign for time-out, not truce,” Camry said, though her face did redden. “You wave a white flag for a truce.” She set her hands on her hips, not unlike the way Megan often did. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t kick a man when he’s down?”

Jack gave her his sincerest smile. “Because you’re the sister who’s most like Megan, she told me, even more than her twin, Chelsea.”

Camry opened her mouth but closed it again without uttering a word. She simply turned and walked away.

“Kenzie?” Megan said, peering out the still open door. She turned to Camry. “Where’d he go?”

“Who knows,” Camry said with a negligent wave. “Likely back to his hidey-hole in the forest. Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable he gets indoors?”

Jack perked up. Kenzie Gregor was a forest hermit?

How interesting.

Unless he was a warrior like most of the other men around here, and a shell-shocked veteran who couldn’t handle civilized society anymore. Jack had dealt with a few such lost souls growing up in Medicine Lake. Did Gregor have hopes that Megan would help him come in from the cold?

Not on my watch, she won’t. Jack leaned back on the couch with a moan and rubbed his knee.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Camry said, pointing at the door Megan was closing. “You are hobbling home right now.”

“Those crutches are worse than ice skates on the packed snow. I nearly broke my neck getting up the walkway.” He turned a pleading gaze on Megan. “I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Megan looked at her sister. “What can it hurt to let him spend the night, Cam? We’d do no less for a complete stranger.”

“But he’s not a stranger. He’s the bastard who broke your heart.”

“To keep her safe,” Jack growled.

Camry spun toward him. “Safe from what?”

“Megan didn’t tell you? A man was murdered on the tundra a couple of days before your sister told me she was pregnant. Breaking her heart was the only way I could think of to make her leave.”

Camry turned to a suddenly silent Megan. “Is that true, Meg?” Not waiting for an answer, she spun back to face Jack. “You didn’t have to crush her heart. You only had to explain your concern.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “And knowing your sister, you think she would have just packed up and come home?”

Camry turned to Megan again, holding her arms out in question. “How come this is the first I’m hearing about this?”

Megan went to the woodstove and dropped a piece of wood inside. “I didn’t know the man had been murdered. I thought he’d gotten drunk, fallen in a pond, and drowned.” She faced them both, her expression defensive. “And for all we know, that’s exactly what happened. Wayne’s the only one saying he was murdered.”

Man-o-man, she really wanted him to be Wayne, didn’t she?

“Jack has proof,” he told Camry. “You can call the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Edmonton and check it out. They investigated, and they shut down the study the very next week.”

“It was already shutting down when I left,” Megan defended.

Camry threw up her hands. “Sorry, sis. If what he’s saying is true, you’re not going to find anyone around here who’d be willing to beat him up for you. Hell, Dad will probably give him a pat on the back.”

Jack found himself torn between wanting to jump for joy that Greylen MacKeage would take his side, and wanting to run over and hug Megan when he saw her shoulders slump in defeat. But he stayed right were he was, not willing to chance being sent home. Maybe he should work on Camry a bit more, since she seemed to be softening.

“Did Rose Brewer notice if anything else had been stolen?” he asked while looking around for his crutches.