Free Highlander for the Holidays by Janet Chapman Page A

only piece of furniture in sight—nestled between the windows and a green enameled woodstove.
    “No offense,” Merissa said, digging through Jessie’s purse, “but don’t you ladies think it’s a little creepy that a guy Jessie met only last night is so gung ho about her living just down the street from him?” She pulled out Jessie’s cosmetic bag, slung the purse over her shoulder, and started rummaging through the bag for Jessie’s pillbox. “Where we come from, that sounds an awful lot like stalking.” Merissa looked up when her only answer was silence and found Katy and Megan grinning at her. She grinned back, albeit sheepishly. “I know he’s your cousin and all, but from our perspective, you’ve got to admit it’s kind of scary.”
    “Any scarier than leaving a bar with a guy you just met?” Jessie asked, glaring across the room at Merissa.
    “Hey, Paula assured us the men were harm—” Merissa’s cheeks turned red and she winced. “Touché. But we’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you living in a strange town with only a dog for protection.” She looked at Megan. “How many of the homes on this road are year-round residences? This place appears kind of isolated.”
    Jessie carefully lowered herself into the chair, giving a snort to cover her pained groan. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Mother Merissa,” she said before Megan could answer. “And I’m pretty sure Ian has better things to do than stalk some woman he just met. He probably has half a dozen girlfriends and likely isn’t interested in juggling one more.”
    “Actually, he doesn’t,” Megan said, walking over with a paper cup she’d filled with water. “In fact, you’re the first woman we’ve seen Ian take any real interest in since he came home from Afghanistan a little under a year ago.”
    “But that in no way means he’s stalking you,” Katy rushed to say, sitting down on the stone hearth. “Ian’s just . . .” She shrugged, looking at Megan.
    “He’s just being Ian,” Megan finished for her, patting her baby’s bottom when the infant stirred on her chest. “You tell him you’re not interested, and I swear that’ll be the end of it,” she said, giving Merissa a reassuring nod.
    “Because more than being old-fashioned, all our men are noble to a fault,” Katy added. “And if one of them did happen to go astray, there’s an entire clan of men and women to put them back on the straight and narrow.”
    “Especially the older generation,” Megan continued, “with Ian’s father probably being the worst of the lot. Uncle Morgan is the living definition of an atavist.” She shot Merissa a smile. “So you really don’t have to worry about your friend, because we all look out for one another here.”
    Jessie was beginning to wonder if they really had blown into another century.
    “That’ll teach you to be careful what you wish for,” Merissa said deadpan, handing Jessie a pill. “You just traded a sea of strangers for an entire clan of bossy men.” She looked at Katy and Megan. “Only problem is, I can tell you from personal experience that when Jessie gets a bee in her bonnet about something, she tends to forget she’s not ten feet tall and bulletproof. I actually spent over half an hour talking a physical therapist out of the janitor’s closet once after the guy foolishly told Jessie she was trying too hard.”
    “The idiot was supposed to be helping me walk again,” Jessie defended, giving Merissa another heated glare, “instead of just getting myself in and out of a wheelchair.”
    Ignoring her, Merissa shot the two women a smug smile. “So you ladies might want to warn all the noble men in your family—especially Ian—that Jessie Pringle is more dangerous than her dog.”
    Finally realizing Merissa was so worried about leaving her here alone that she was trying to head off any potential threats, Jessie burst out laughing. “They said Ian was in