Highlander for the Holidays (32 page)

That is, when she wasn’t frowning, wondering how she could persuade Ian to stay while her parents visited over Christmas. But she finally gave up on that notion, realizing he was just too old-fashioned to sleep in her bed with her parents in the house unless he was married to her. Honest to God, she hadn’t realized they still made men like Ian, much less an entire clan of men and women who acted as if they were living in medieval Scotland. Imagine boys growing up believing they
had
to take over the family business, and girls being constantly chaperoned. On the one hand it had to be stifling, but Jessie had to admit there was also something comforting about holding to tradition.

But was she prepared to become part of such a closeknit family if Ian proposed to her tonight? Jessie finished sliding the couch into position to face the Christmas tree and flopped onto it with a sigh as she looked down at her bare left ring finger and started smiling again. Oh yeah, she would say yes tonight when Ian got down on one knee in the summit house and asked for her hand in marriage, and next winter or the following spring she would finally have the grand wedding she and her mom had been planning since Jessie was a little girl.

Well, grand by Pine Creek standards, anyway, where instead of a beautiful stone cathedral in the heart of the city she would be walking down the aisle of a quaint New England white clapboard church. Ian’s family would fill up two-thirds of the pews, outnumbering her few aunts and uncles and cousins ten to one. Heck, the wedding wouldn’t even make a dent in the portfolio Jacob Pringle had been nursing along the last twenty-eight years for the sole purpose of paying for his only child’s wedding.

Jessie wrapped her arm around Toby when he jumped up on the couch beside her. “Roger said I was going to have at least three children, Tobes,” she whispered, placing a hand on her belly. “And so far his predictions have been right on the money, which means I really might have babies for Grammy and Grampy Pringle to spoil rotten. And you, you big lug,” she said, giving him a kiss, “will get your own little herd of children to watch over.

Oh yeah, she would definitely be saying yes tonight.

THE TABLE WAS SET AND A STUFFED CHICKEN WAS IN THE oven, the house was spanking clean, all Ian’s clothes were washed and hanging in the closet next to hers, and Jessie was feeling pretty old-fashioned proud of herself. She’d tossed Toby’s bed in the trash and set the one from L.L.Bean beside the hearth, then watched him spend the entire afternoon scratching and mauling the thing to get the lumps in just the right places. She’d gone on to take a long relaxing bubble bath, dabbed perfume in all the right places, and used a curling iron
and
hot rollers until she was satisfied her hair perfectly framed her sultry eyeshadowed eyes and lightly made-up face. Because really, a girl had to look perfect when her miracle got down on one knee and asked her to marry him.

She’d also spent a good deal of time digging through some of the boxes she and Merissa hadn’t gotten around to unpacking, looking for just the perfect items to fill the picnic basket she’d run out and bought at Dolan’s Outfitter Store this morning. Well, it was actually an ice fishing backpack basket, but this was
Maine
, so Jessie had decided it would make a perfectly Maine-ish picnic basket. Because really, a girl needed to be flexible if she intended to accept a mountain man’s marriage proposal.

She’d ended up rearranging the furniture again, making a place for Ian’s large leather recliner next to her chair, planning to surprise him by asking Alec and Duncan to sneak away and move it for her tomorrow. Because honestly, there wasn’t any reason for Ian to go back to his place when her parents came if they were
engaged
. Her mom and dad were pretty cool people, and the moment they realized how much she loved Ian and how happy he made her, they would welcome him into the family faster than that fancy snowmobile of his could go.

“Jessie MacKeage,” she whispered, trying it out loud. She turned from closing the damper on the stove to sit on the hearth facing her perfectly arranged home. “What do you think, Tobias MacKeage?” she asked, glancing over at him. He stopped from trying to chew the tag off his bed and canted his head at her as if considering the prospect. “You get a name change, too, when Ian and I say ‘I do.’ You know what? There’s no reason you can’t be in the wedding ceremony. I’ll even get you a boutonniere to put on your collar that matches Ian’s.”

Jessie heard the rumble of a large machine pulling into the driveway and stood up and went to the door to see Ian climbing out of one of the resort trail groomers. Well, at least he wasn’t taking her up the mountain tonight on that ugly snowmobile of his, because she’d really been worried about carrying the picnic basket. But then she laughed, going to the oven to check on dinner. Of course Ian had brought the groomer because of Toby. It might be a
big
ugly snowmobile, but it certainly wouldn’t have fit the three of them.

“Something smells good,” he said, coming through the door and taking off his parka. He stopped in the act of pulling down the bib of his pants and sniffed, then smiled at her. “Roast chicken?”

“Stuffed,” she said with a nod. “And baked potatoes and green beans.”

He walked over with his ski bib hanging down to his waist and pulled her into his arms. “My, aren’t we becoming domestic,” he murmured just before giving her a warm, tender kiss that quickly turned heated. He leaned away with a sigh. “I suppose since you went to all the trouble, I’ll have to sit down at the table like a civilized man and eat it instead of carrying you off to the bedroom first.”

Jessie’s heart quickened at the look in his eyes. “Um . . . dinner can wait.”

He sighed again and dropped his arms away, then turned and walked to the pegs by the door and took off his boots and ski pants. “Nope, you made the effort to cook me supper, and . . .” He looked around the spanking-clean living room and kitchen and smiled at her. “And you even did it without burning down the house, so it’s the least I can do.”

Oh, two could play this game. Jessie spun around and grabbed her mitts, then bent over to open the oven door. “Yeah, I figured you might need a hearty dinner because I put the whole box of condoms in the nightstand when I was tidying up today.”

She gave a squeak when his hands grasped her hips and he pulled her backside into his groin, only to gasp when he slid them up her ribs to cup her breasts when she straightened. “I believe you might want to keep some here in the kitchen, lass, if your eyes and hair are going to be done up like that when I get home,” he whispered into her curls as he stroked his thumbs over both of her nipples.

Jessie shivered in response and wiggled her backside against the bulge in his jeans, only to laugh when his stomach gave a hungry growl.

He stepped away with another sigh and headed toward the hall. “Hey, big man, I see you have a new bed,” he said, stopping to squat in front of Toby.

“He doesn’t like it,” Jessie said, fanning herself with the mitts before putting them on to pull the roaster out of the oven. “Apparently he had all the lumps in his old bed just where he wanted them, and he spent most of today trying to get his new bed to conform.” She set the roaster on top of the stove and turned. “When are we going up the mountain, right after dinner or later in the evening?”

He roughed up Toby’s head and stood up. “It’s a two-hour ride in the snowcat to where I’m wanting to go, so we should leave by nine or no later than nine thirty so we can be in place by midnight.” He started to leave but hesitated. “That is, if you’re still willing to go.”

“Oh, yes. I even put some things in a basket to bring with us,” she said, waving at the basket sitting on the peninsula.

He stilled. “What did you pack?”

Not wanting to spoil whatever plans he’d made or what he might have set up at the summit house, Jessie batted her lashes. “It’s a surprise.” She waved him away. “Go on, go get cleaned up and we’ll eat, and then we can . . .” She turned to the stove while shooting a coy smile over her shoulder. “Well, I’m sure we can find
something
to do until nine. Maybe crossword puzzles.”

Only they didn’t gravitate to the bedroom after dinner like Jessie expected, nor did they do crossword puzzles, because Ian had gotten up from the table, given her a quick kiss on her lips—making her nearly fall out of her chair when she’d leaned in expecting him to pull her into his arms instead of straightening away—and left, saying he was going to walk down the road and check on his cabin.

And he hadn’t even taken his own plate to the sink; just left the good little lass home alone to clean up the mess she’d made cooking him a wonderful dinner while he went out and did good old-fashioned man stuff. Yeah, well, forget getting down on one knee tonight; he was going to be kneeling on both before she said yes. When she finally heard him kicking snow off his boots on the porch and she looked at the clock and saw it was ten after nine, Jessie decided she just might make him sweat for at least twenty minutes before she said yes.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, walking into the house like he owned the place and heading directly into the bedroom without taking off his boots. “I hope you put on long johns. And do you have a good warm scarf to wear?”

Jessie waltzed into the bedroom behind him and over to her bureau, pulled out the wool scarf Roger had given her, and slipped it around her neck, figuring they still had twenty minutes before they absolutely
had
to leave. “Is this one warm enough, do you think?” she asked in her best sultry purr.

He turned to her holding his rifle in his fist, his expression making her take a step back. “Did you pull the bolt out of this today, Jessie?” he asked quietly.

“No. I don’t know the first thing about rifles; I wouldn’t even dare touch it.” She glanced at the gun then back up at him. “What’s a bolt?”

“It’s a long steel cylinder the size of a finger that slides in here,” he said, turning the gun to point at the gaping hole in the middle. “It contains the firing pin that strikes the bullet that goes in here,” he explained, pointing at the handle end of the barrel. He looked around the room at the bureau and nightstands and back at her, then tossed the apparently useless rifle on the bed and suddenly walked to the nightstand nearest the door. He opened the drawer and took out the small revolver, flipped open the cylinder, and held it with the barrel pointing toward the ceiling. And since the revolver was hers and she knew how it worked, Jessie could see it wasn’t loaded. “Where are the bullets?” he asked. “Did you take them out?”

“No. I haven’t even touched that gun since I put it in there when I moved in.”

He tossed the handgun on the bed next to the rifle and stared at them in silence, and Jessie saw him suddenly stiffen. “I saw Dixon go into the house alone before he left,” he said, turning to her. “Does he know you keep a gun in your nightstand?”

“Yes. Brad’s the one who gave me that revolver,” she said, gesturing at it, only to also stiffen. “Wait, what do you mean you
saw
Brad go in the house before he left?”

“Do ye honestly believe I was going to leave you alone with him?”

“You
spied
on me?”

He nodded. “I can be a real bastard like that sometimes.”

“And exactly what were you planning to do if I
had
left with him?”

He shrugged. “Some things are best kept a mystery between a man and a woman.” He walked over and pulled her into his arms. “Ye did give me a bit of a scare when ye headed out the road not five minutes behind him, though.”

“Oh, Ian,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist to melt against him. “You really are old-fashioned, only scarier, because you
know better
than to coddle me.”

“Aye, it’s a fine line I’m having to walk between my father’s world and mine.”

She leaned back to look up at him, only to find him scowling over her head at the bed. “But it doesn’t even make sense for you to think Brad would take the bolt out of your rifle and the bullets out of my gun,” she told him. “Unless . . . Could he have been afraid that . . . Do you think he was worried you might hurt me or something?” She frowned. “Only it doesn’t make sense that he’d unload my gun and not tell me, because then I’d be completely defenseless.”

This time she felt more than saw Ian stiffen, his gaze snapping to the hallway. “Did you feed Toby his dry food last night?”

“Yeah, just like always. Why?”

He let her go and walked into the living room and over to Toby’s dishes on the floor at the end of the peninsula. “There’s still food in here. Did you fill it up again this morning?”

“No,” she said, stopping beside him and looking down. “He must not have been hungry last night because I gave him a big bowl of beef and gravy and vegetables.” She snorted. “And then didn’t eat anything today because he had devoured that entire bone.” She grabbed Ian’s arm when he reached down to pick up the bowl. “Why are you asking about Toby’s food?”