Quinn (25 page)

Quinn stared out at the darkness and thought about
how Cheyenne felt in his arms. With one touch she could set him on fire in a way no other woman ever had before. They’d been a heartbeat away from falling into her bed.

Just thinking about it had him aching with need. Given the choice, he’d be up in her room right now, doing exactly what they both wanted.

He liked being with her. Loved the sound of her voice. Even enjoyed the fact that she hummed while she ate. It was one of those small, endearing traits that really got to him.

“Quinn…”

At Jake’s voice he shouted, “Shut up and keep watching.”

“I was just going to say that I like her. I think having a sexy hot babe in the family wouldn’t be hard to take.”

“Do you want me to come up there and shut your mouth for you?”

Jake and Josh fell silent. But they both knew from Quinn’s tone that there was no fire in that threat.

A sure sign that their big brother had his mind on something other than temper.

C
ole and his sons were holding a morning meeting in his office.

This room was as oversize as the rest of the rooms in the house. Located on the far end of the main floor, it had once been used as a playroom. After Seraphine went missing, Cole noticed that his children avoided going near the room. Not that he could blame them. Everything about it exuded the essence of the woman who had poured her heart and soul into it. From the hand-painted stars on a sky-blue ceiling, to the makeshift stage where she’d taught her children to dance and put on little plays, to the trunks of costumes, many of them worn by their mother when she’d been a professional dancer, it was a fantasyland for a woman-child and her students.

All the world was Seraphine’s stage. But this room, more than any other in the sprawling house, bore the stamp of the woman determined to remain active in the
arts that owned her heart, even though she was hundreds of miles from civilization.

Now the playroom had been converted into Cole’s retreat. It hadn’t been an easy decision but, rather, a necessity.

The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and cabinets. A massive stone fireplace with an oak mantel dominated one wall. In the center of the room were a desk and a leather chair. On the desktop was a framed photograph of Seraphine and her three children in younger, happier days. It was the first thing Cole looked at whenever he sat down. The last thing he looked at before turning off the light and leaving.

Facing the desk were four wing chairs upholstered in muted brown and gray tweed. Deep, manly chairs, suitable for discussions about ranch business.

This was where Big Jim and Cole and his sons spent endless hours each month discussing the operation of the ranch, as well as the coal mines and the oil wells that dotted the western range of their land. Those businesses were operated by companies that leased the land from them for huge sums of money. Though ranching was their great love, they were well aware that the bounty extracted from the earth paid the bills and made it possible for them to have one of the most successful ranches in the country. But no amount of money would persuade them to abuse the land they loved. That was why they insisted on carefully monitoring the mining and oil companies, to assure that the environment was treated with respect.

Cole sat behind his desk, facing Quinn and Josh. “After Big Jim and Jake left this morning for the high country, I had a nice long talk with Everett Fletcher.”

“And?” Quinn, freshly shaved, his hair still damp from the shower, studied his father with interest.

Cole’s words were clipped. “He intends to get to the bottom of this.”

Josh gave a nod of his head. “The sooner the better.”

Quinn nodded before saying with a laugh, “I’m not sure how many nights I can go without sleep and still carry my weight around here doing my chores.”

Cole studied his sons. Despite their all-night vigil, they showed no sign of sleep deprivation.

“I appreciate what you did. I had half a mind to guard the barn myself.” He gave a wry laugh. “But this old body just won’t do the things it did twenty or thirty years ago.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Quinn’s smile faded. “If Chief Fletcher doesn’t come up with an arrest of the guilty party, we’ll just have to rotate some of the wranglers to keep watch during the night.”

“Not an efficient way to run a ranch,” Cole muttered.

“It might not be cost-efficient, but it’s better than the alternative. After seeing what might have happened, we can’t afford to be careless.” Quinn stood and began to prowl the room. “You realize that Cheyenne was right last night.”

They stared at him.

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. “This was no coincidence. A blaze nearly destroyed her house. Now someone tries to burn our barn.” He looked from his father to his brother. “How many fires have we heard about in the past year in this area?”

Josh shrugged. “I can’t think of one.”

“Exactly. Now, within days, we have two.”

“That’s exactly what Chief Fletcher said.” Cole steepled his fingers atop his desk. “So, the next question is why?”

“It’s what I’ve been asking myself all night long.” Quinn gave a slow shake of his head. “Like I said, no answers yet.”

Cole lifted a hand. “The chief had an interesting theory. What if the target is you, Quinn?”

Quinn looked up with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why would I be targeted?”

“As Everett pointed out, there are ranchers in Wyoming who resent the fact that you’ve become something of a champion for wolves that are considered dangerous predators.”

Quinn nodded. “All right. That makes sense. But how would a rancher know that I was spending the night at Cheyenne’s ranch? Don’t forget, I was there by accident.”

“You could have been followed.” Cole stared pointedly at his son. “Can you think of any rancher you may have offended recently?”

Quinn shook his head. “Probably a few dozen.”

Cole sighed. “Everett wants you to be careful until he gets this resolved.”

“I will. And if I’m not the target, we’re back to Cheyenne. But if somebody is after Cheyenne, it may just be—”

Cole cleared his throat and Quinn looked over just in time to see Cheyenne standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“Sorry to intrude.” She looked embarrassed, as though she’d heard more than she cared to. “Phoebe told me where to find all of you. And the door was open.”

“Come on in, honey.” Cole gave her his best smile. “We were just having a little talk—”

“About me.” She paused on the threshold, much as she had the night before, after they’d battled the fire.

Quinn’s heart went out to her. She looked like a deer run to ground by a hungry wolf.

“As a matter of fact, we were.” He crossed the room and caught her hand. In one smooth gesture he led her across the room and to one of the chairs. “We’re tossing around a few theories, and we’d like your take on them.”

“Theories?” She sank into the chair beside Josh.

Cole smoothly took up the thread of their conversation. “You said last night that you believe you’re the target of these fires.”

She nodded.

Cole studied her across his desk. “So the question really should be, if you’re the target of these fires, why?”

“Because…” She licked her lips. “Last night, after the fire, I started thinking about Deke. I think I should tell Chief Fletcher that Deke had a crush on me when we were younger and I didn’t return his feelings.” She flushed and looked down when she realized they were all staring. “I hadn’t thought about it before, and it seems like a really foolish reason for revenge, but,”—she shrugged—“it’s all I can think of.”

Quinn turned to his father. “I hope you’ll pass this along to Everett.”

“I will.” Cole nodded. “When I spoke with the chief earlier, he said the first thing on his list today will be to check out Deke’s alibi for last night.”

Cheyenne sighed.

Cole looked over. “What else is troubling you, honey?”

She gave a slow shake of her head. “Just thinking about all the things that have gone wrong in my life. My brother. My father. The fire…”

Cole shoved away from his desk and walked over to
lay a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve had more than your share, Cheyenne. But you have to hold on to the thought that better days are coming.”

She looked up, eyes shiny. “You mean, if you ruled the universe?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “If I ruled. In the meantime…” He glanced at his sons. “I figure by now Phoebe and Ela should have something amazing ready for breakfast.”

“Oh.” Cheyenne jumped up. “That’s what I was supposed to tell you. Breakfast is ready.”

“Come on, then.” Cole put a hand under her elbow, and together they strode from the office, with Josh following.

Quinn trailed at a slower pace, his mind clearly not on the menu.

As always, the kitchen smelled heavenly.

Ela removed a pan of cinnamon biscuits from the oven while Phoebe set platters of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon on the table before lifting a skillet of potatoes fried with onions and peppers from the stove.

“A breakfast fit for a king,” Cole remarked as he took his place at the table.

“Or at least a rancher,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “Big Jim and Jake won’t be joining you. They left hours ago.”

“I heard them.” Cole shot her a quick smile of thanks as she handed him a steaming mug of coffee. “My father never learned how to tiptoe. I guess Big Jim figures when he’s up, everyone should get up.”

That had the others laughing and sharing stories of Big Jim’s morning rituals, which included, when they were younger, ringing a school bell to alert them that it was time to rise and shine and begin their daily chores.

Cole shook his head. “From what I could see, they had enough supplies in the back of that wagon to feed an army.”

“Just filling requests from the wranglers,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “Besides the antibiotics Jake packed for the calves, Big Jim asked for a couple of cases of longnecks, some homemade cinnamon rolls, all the fixings for pot roast, and a big pot of chili.”

Quinn winked at Cheyenne. “No matter whose ranch they’re working on, the wranglers always want the same thing. Beer and eye-watering, gut-burning chili. The spicier the better.”

“And the smart cook always gives them what they want,” Phoebe said as she circled the table filling their cups.

Cheyenne nodded. “That’s exactly what Micah always says.”

“Micah?” Ela’s head came up sharply.

“Micah Horn. He’s my cook and all-around handyman. I don’t think there’s anything Micah can’t do.”

Seeing Ela’s sharp-eyed interest, Quinn said, “Do you know him, Ela?”

She ducked her head. “Used to. A long time ago.”

“Really?” Cheyenne turned to say something more, but Ela was already walking out the back door to the bunkhouse.

When Quinn passed Cheyenne a platter of eggs, she helped herself to some and was soon caught up in a lively conversation about the rapidly disappearing snow.

Like all ranchers, they had the weather uppermost in their minds. The sooner the snow was gone, the better chance newborn calves would have of surviving. With
spring rains they could get on with the business of driving their herds toward the lush rangelands in the higher elevations.

It wasn’t that the work would be easier. The chores on any ranch were never ending. But the heart of every rancher beat a little faster when the days grew longer, the air warmer, and the nights softer.

Cole glanced over at Josh. “You going to give me a hand today with that tractor?”

“Sure thing.” Josh pushed away from the table.

“Afterward, I’m hoping to take the plane up, if the weather cooperates.”

Josh grinned at his father. “I figured, with the weather getting gentler, you’d be itching to fly. Where’re you headed?”

“Just over the ranch. I’d like a bird’s-eye view of the pockets of snow, and how far the herd has wandered. You want to tag along?”