Megan moved on to the left saddlebag and found it contained a sturdy rope, a small ax, and two thin Mylar space blankets. She also found three more candy bars—which she pocketed—and a flattened roll of duct tape.

She walked back and fed the fire some twigs, then sat down on Jack’s leather suit. The gravy was a lost cause, since lichen and moss had fallen into the open pot, so she ate both sandwiches, the crackers, and all four candy bars, then ripped open the cheese curls. She scoffed down half the bag before she decided she was more tired than hungry. With a sigh of contentment, she finally settled back on the bed Jack had made.

It was surprisingly comfortable. She rolled over and lifted the jacket sleeve, and saw that he’d arranged more than a foot of fir boughs on the ground, which kept her off the cold snow, just as her father had taught her. Apparently Jack had been listening when his great-grandfather had passed down his survival skills.

Which probably explained why he didn’t know squat about courting a woman. Being raised by an old man in the middle of the wilderness wasn’t exactly conducive to learning about the opposite sex. Still, Jack must have learned something once he’d gotten out in the real world. He’d been in the military, for crying out loud. Megan laced her hands together over her belly with a snort. That’s probably where he’d acquired his sex education.

Although, once he’d gotten over her surprise attack, he’d certainly…performed well enough. Oh, okay. He’d done better than merely perform. He’d actually taken her beyond the stars and back, she remembered with a shiver.

And then he’d done it all over again. And again.

“Don’t go there, Meg,” she growled, snapping her eyes shut. Only that merely made the memory stronger, to the point that she could practically feel his intimate touch.

“Damn,” she muttered, rolling onto her side, grabbing the blanket, and balling it up against her belly and chest. “Think of something else,” she commanded herself. “Think about your baby.”

Megan fell asleep a few minutes later and did dream about her child—of a little boy doing somersaults in the air as he flew from one trapeze to another.

Chapter Fourteen

J ack walked into camp three hours later to find Megan curled up on his suit. He also found four empty candy wrappers and half a bag of cheese curls on the ground beside her—which explained the orange powder all over her face.

“Trust me, playing possum only gets a person in trouble,” he said, knowing damn well she was awake. He picked up the bag of cheese curls and stuffed them in the pack basket. “Been snooping, have you? And eating my stash?”

“You ate my lunch,” she shot back, as she snuggled deeper into his suit. “What time is it?”

He picked up the candy wrappers and threw them in the basket. “Time to dig out the satellite phone and let Greylen know you won’t be back by sunset. The last thing I want are your uncles and cousins coming out to search for us.”

She still didn’t move. “You call him. He won’t lecture you.”

“No, he’ll just be waiting on my doorstep with a shotgun.”

“Daddy prefers a sword,” she mumbled.

Jack straightened with the pot in his hand. “A sword?”

Megan cracked open one eye, and one corner of her mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “He’s pretty good with it, too. I’ve seen him cut a four-inch sapling clean through in one stroke.”

“What’s he doing with a sword?”

“It belonged to his father. All my uncles and cousins have swords,” she added, finally rolling onto her back and opening both eyes—likely to better gauge his reaction. “They’re very skilled with them, too. They clean up at the highland games down on the coast every summer.”

Not wanting to disappoint her, Jack looked stricken. “Damn, and I left my bow and arrows in Medicine Lake. They wouldn’t come after a defenseless man, would they?”

She finally sat up, stretching her arms over her head with a yawn. “That depends on whether or not I get home in one piece.”

“Hit the bushes, then. We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he told her, plucking the blanket from her lap and folding it.

She stood up with a little giggle and sauntered toward the bushes. “Gù Brath’s number is programmed into the phone. You might stand a chance if Mom answers. If Daddy does, you better have a good story ready.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not lying to your father.”

She stopped and looked back, arching one delicate brow. “It’s your funeral.”

“I’m telling him our trip is taking longer than we thought because of the baby, and that I didn’t realize how out of shape you’ve let yourself get.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you find the deer yard?”

Jack bent down to hide his grin and continued packing up camp. “I found a herd of thirty or forty of them holed up about three miles due north.” He stopped to look at her. “They seemed healthy. They certainly had plenty of feed. I did come across a yearling moose carcass, though. It looked to me like a mountain lion brought it down.”

She had just started into the bushes, but swung back around to face him. “A mountain lion? You’re sure? There’s never been a documented sighting of one around here that I know of.”

“It was definitely a large-cat kill.”

Her face beamed. “Do you know what this means?”

“That you were smart to bring your gun?”

“It means that if I can confirm a mountain lion is living in the area, they can’t build a resort here.”

“Do you think the developers will be as happy with this news as you are?”

“Of course not. But that’s why the state requires a study. That way the developers won’t put too much money into a project before they find out they can’t build.”

“And if the developers send someone out here to quietly shoot the cat, will that make their little problem go away?”

“Not if I’ve already documented it. All I have to prove is that this area has had a mountain lion living here recently. It will then be designated a large-cat habitat, and all development will be banned.”

He waved her away. “We can discuss this later. We’re burning daylight.”

She didn’t move but frowned instead. “You said three miles north. You couldn’t have covered that much ground in the time you were gone.”

“Actually, I zigzagged a lot. I really traveled a total of eight miles.”

She eyed him dubiously. “In three hours? That would mean you went…” She calculated in her head and then glared at him. “Nobody can do that on snowshoes.”

“He can if he thinks a hungry cat is dogging his trail. That kill was over a week old. Will you get going? I’m hungry, and I can’t wait to get home and slap a TV dinner in the microwave.”

Jack gave a silent chuckle when she stomped off into the bushes. He pulled his revolver from the back of his waist and stashed it in his tank bag, then walked over to Megan’s sled and rummaged around in her saddlebag for the phone.

“Greylen,” he said when the sword-wielding laird answered. “This is Jack. I just want to let you know that we’re still at the north end of the lake. We should be back home in three or four hours.”

“What happened? Did ye have sled trouble? Where’s Megan? I’d like to speak with her.”

“She’s in the bushes at the moment. You have seven daughters. Surely you remember what it was like traveling the backcountry with a pregnant woman.”

There was a pause on the line, then a soft laugh. “Aye, I remember. So what delayed ye, other than bathroom breaks?”

“A detour down an unmarked trail,” Jack told him. “And a couple of naps. The weather’s been good, and Megan is thoroughly enjoying herself. I think she’s missed being out in the field. She’ll call you as soon as she gets home.”

“Take your time traveling back, and don’t overrun your headlights. The deer and moose like to use the trails at night.”