There was a long silence from the table, then her mother asked, “He raised Robbie all by himself?”

“Yes. With the help of Grace MacKeage, Robbie’s aunt.”

“Elizabeth, look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Libby turned to face her, lifting her chin as she fought to keep her blush from spreading.

Katherine gave her a warm, motherly smile. “You can’t possibly get involved with him, Elizabeth,” she said gently. “Not now.”

“I tried not to, but it happened anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to distract yourself?”

Libby sighed. “No. Maybe. Oh, dammit, I don’t know. Michael is… he’s… ”

“All man?” her mother finished. “With more testosterone than is probably healthy?

Elizabeth, do you know what you’re getting yourself into? Getting involved with a man like Michael MacBain will be all-consuming. I figured that out within ten minutes of meeting him. Are you willing to give up your career for him?”

“Why do I have to? I can be a doctor in Maine just as well as in California.”

“You really want to live here? You’ll have to if you fall in love with him. Michael doesn’

t strike me as someone willing to compromise on certain things.”

Libby couldn’t contain her grin. “Like tonight’s sleeping arrangements?”

Katherine shook her head. “I swear, if I hadn’t suggested that James check back into the hotel, Michael would have, and not quite as diplomatically. You don’t find him a bit… oh… a bit domineering?”

“Domineering?” Libby repeated. “He’s old-fashioned, maybe, but he’s not really a chest-beating caveman. He’s actually quite civilized—most of the time.”

“He’s overwhelming.”

“He said he won’t ever get married,” Libby softly confessed, continuing to disclose the mess she’d gotten herself into. “Not that I’m even thinking about marriage,” she quickly clarified, probably to reassure herself more than her mother. “Michael and Robbie can live in their house, and I will be nothing more than a good neighbor.”

Bright lights came through the kitchen window, and the sound of several vehicles pulling up to the house quickly followed. Libby walked to the door, and Katherine leaned over the sink to look outside.

Michael’s truck was turning to back up to the porch stairs, its cargo bay filled with what looked like a very large—and very solid—bed.

Robbie jumped out, came running up onto the porch, and threw himself into Libby’s arms. The impact nearly knocked her off her feet as she wrapped her arms around him and attempted to keep them both upright.

“I’m sorry I yelled and ran out,” he said into her shoulder, squeezing her so tightly he finished pushing all the air from her lungs. “Papa promised me ya won’t leave. Not ever.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Libby whispered, kissing his head.

“Then I guess it’s settled.”

“Aye,” he thickly agreed, looking up. “And he said if we act real civilized, maybe Gram Katie will want to stay, too.”

Libby ruffled his hair and moved them both out of the way when Michael stepped onto the porch carrying a huge and heavy-looking headboard. She gasped, not because Michael winked at her as he walked past but because the headboard was taller than she was.

She ran after him into the bedroom and slid to a halt when he leaned it up against one of the walls. And she stared, wide-eyed and opened-mouthed, at her new bed.

It was absolutely stunning.

The end posts looked to be solid oak that nearly reached the ceiling. Oak cross members held the posts a good five feet apart, forming a thick frame that surrounded a well-defined, large bull moose cut out of thick steel. The oak was stained a warm honey brown, and the moose was painted black. It was walking through a forest of fir trees painted a crisp green, also cut from steel, with larger trees behind it and smaller ones near its hooves.

Libby lifted amazed eyes to Michael. “It-it’s beautiful,” she whispered. She ran one finger over the antlers of the moose, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” She looked back up at Michael. “Where did you get it?”

“That’s my secret. Do ya like it, lass? It’s not fancy.”

“It’s beautiful,” she repeated, unable to think of a better description. “I love it. Is it really mine?” she asked, running her hand over the smooth oak and tracing several of the trees with her fingers.

“Oh, my,” Katherine breathed, coming to stand beside her. “It’s a work of art.”

“I still say ya gotta get the old bed out before ya bring in the new one,” Ian MacKeage grouched as he carried in the footboard. “Where do ya want this accursed thing? God’s teeth, it’s heavy.”

Katherine spun to face the unfamiliar voice and let out a yelp of surprise when she was nearly run over by the wild-haired, bushy-bearded giant. She pushed Libby out of the way and scrambled after her, running them both into Michael’s solid body. Libby looked up, and Michael leaned down and kissed her on the end of her nose.

“Ya come by your screaming honestly, I see,” he whispered. “Now, strip the bed, and then go make sure ya don’t burn our supper. Ian and I will have everything moved by the time it’s ready.”

Libby pushed Katherine out of the way because her mother seemed glued to the floor.

And she was staring at Ian.

Ian was staring back.

“Mother, this is Ian MacKeage,” Libby told her. “Ian, this is my mother, Katherine.”

“Mr. MacKeage,” Katherine whispered. “It-it’s nice to meet you.”

“Kate,” he said, nodding politely. He looked at Michael.

“Are ya roosting for the night, or we gonna do this job, MacBain? Supper smells good, and I’m hungry,” he finished, turning on his heel and walking back through the kitchen.

Michael silently followed, and Libby’s bedroom suddenly felt big again. She looked at her mother, who was staring at the door where Ian had disappeared.

“I think there’s something in the water that makes them all grow big,” Libby told her.

“So I’ve been drinking a lot of water lately. If you want to strip the bed, I’ll set another place at the table for Ian.”

Katherine stopped her by grabbing her arm. “He—he called me Kate,” she said hoarsely. “And his scowl is… is… ”

Libby patted her hand. “Ian can be a bit rough around the edges, but you don’t have to be afraid of him, Mom. I promise, under all that hair, he’s a cupcake.”

Katherine finally shook herself out of her stupor. “I’m not afraid of him,” she said. “He’s just so… he’s… ”

“All man?” Libby finished for her, repeating her mom’s earlier words.

“And then some,” Katherine agreed, going to Mary’s old bed and pulling off the quilt.

Libby took one final look at her new bed, stopping to examine the footboard Ian had leaned against it. It was just like the headboard, minus the moose and half the height, with perfectly matched fir trees lined up like sentinels from post to post.

“Where do you suppose Michael found it?” Katherine asked as she stared at the bed, her arms full of sheets. “It looks to be handcrafted.”

“He must know a furniture maker who lives around here,” Libby speculated, unable to keep from running her hand over it again. “I wonder if the guy could make me a matching bureau?”

Katherine shook her head and made atsk ing sound. “Oh, boy. You’re settling in here faster than frost on a pumpkin.”

Libby lifted a brow at her mother.

“What?” Katherine asked, lifting her chin. “Bea may have been your grammy, but she was my mother. I haven’t traveled so far from the farm that I’ve forgotten my roots.”

“I miss her.”

“I know, sweetie. I miss her, too.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”

Katherine shifted her load of sheets and straightened her shoulders on a deep breath.

“That’s good, because I think I just might stay awhile.” She shot Libby a smug grin.

“And since I’ll be gainfully employed, I’ll even kick in for part of the rent.”