Authors: Cerian Hebert
Even the mundane, like pouring the
coffee or buttering toast wasn’t routine when working side by side with Quinn.
All he had to do was look at her in that old bathrobe and slippers, her hair mussed
and the hint of dark circles under her blue eyes and his life got much better.
They settled at the table across from
each other, and he didn’t feel one bit weird about it, like he was doing
something wrong or moving too fast. Did that make him a bad person? He’d been a
widower for over two years now. A part of him thought he should feel guilty
about being with her. That it happened too soon. A more dominant internal voice
assured him it was okay.
“What?” She paused over her breakfast,
suspicion in her eyes. She slanted a sharp, quizzical gaze at him.
He couldn’t very well tell her his
conscience debated whether it was morally correct to be with her, not after
what they’d shared. “You’re beautiful,” he said instead.
She pulled a face, her mouth grimacing
and slim brows furrowed deeply. “Honey you just lost fifty credibility points.”
“I’m not lying to you. I would never lie
to you.”
“Hmm. Then maybe it will be safe to
bring you on this overnighter after all because I’m even more frightening after
camping out on the trail. If you’re not totally appalled then I’ll know you’re
a keeper.”
She spoke the words casually, but to him
he detected a hint of hope for the future in her voice. Did she see that for
them? Want it? He longed to find out, but the clock over the stove told him he
was running late. Hal and Frank would be wondering about him, not that it was
any of their business, and not that they’d pry. Craig wasn’t too keen on the
idea of arriving back at the Shady H wearing the same suit he wore yesterday.
“I hate to eat and run,” he said and
stood.
Quinn waved her hand, while the other
held her mug of coffee to her lips. “We’re ranchers, you and I,” she replied when
she put the now empty mug on the table. “We’re used to this up and out at the
crack of dawn stuff. Not that there’s much dawn out there this morning. Ugh,
I’ll be giving your daughter her lesson in a mud bog.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Go get dressed, though there’s nothing
like having breakfast with a man in a tee shirt and his boxers. You look like a
model. If you don’t hurry and leave I may change my mind and lock you up for
the rest of the day.”
As she gathered his dishes, she gave him
a playful pat on his butt.
She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met
before, he decided with a grin.
It only took a few minutes to get
dressed and when he returned to the kitchen Quinn was loading the dishwasher,
looking incredibly domestic and just plain incredible.
“All right,” he announced, reaching to
turn her around. She automatically snuggled against him. “I’m heading out.”
“Miss you.” Her breath was warm against
his chest.
“Me too.”
He didn’t want to leave her. No, he
corrected, he wanted to take her with him. For the first time in a long time,
he wanted a woman to be with him, be there when he went to bed at night, have
her in his arms as they slept and wake up with her every morning. He wanted her
there in the evening when it was time to unwind and share the news of the day.
More, he wanted to be able to go through
the day anticipating the knowledge that she’d be there, or even better, that
she’d be working side by side with him on the land they both loved.
Baby steps, he warned. There was more to
consider than himself. Marisol stood first and foremost his priority. Her
happiness came before his. He clung to the belief that even though Marisol had
some kind of romantic ideas about Quinn and Robby, she’d come around to his way
of thinking.
“Quinn?” He tipped her chin up so he
could see her face. Contentment. Her gaze was sleepy again, as was the small
smile on her pink lips. He admired the freckles across her nose and smattered
over her cheeks.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
Instantly the blue of her eyes darkened
from daylight blue sky to twilight. The smile faded a touch and her cheeks
filled with a delicate blush.
“You may not want to hear it, but there
you go.” Craig pressed a kiss on the top of her head then her forehead.
She remained silent, she didn’t move.
With her arms wrapped around his waist, he couldn’t read her face.
“Nothing to say? I can’t believe I’ve
rendered Quinn Emery speechless.”
Then something amazing happened and
Craig didn’t quite know what to make of it. A single tear formed in the corner
of her eye. Gently he swept it away with his finger.
“You weren’t supposed to say that,”
Quinn whispered. “It’s too soon.”
“Can’t lie to you. Regardless of whether
it’s too soon or not, there’s nothing I’d do to change these feelings.”
“There’s too much we’re not sure of.”
“And a lot that we are. We can work on
the rest.”
She pulled back, leaving Craig suddenly
cold. She walked halfway across the kitchen and paused before turning to face
him.
“This sure does complicate things,” she
commented under her breath. “What if Marisol doesn’t come around? We could have
a lot of broken hearts around here.”
***
Quinn was determined not to let Craig’s
proclamation throw her. She spent the most boring day of the summer dodging the
rain as she finished two more stalls. At least she didn’t have to face him.
Marisol called to cancel the riding lesson due to the weather, but asked if her
friend Bonnie could come along with them on the overnighter. Speaking for her
brother, Quinn said yes. It would be good for the girl to do some more bonding
and maybe a little showing off with her new friend. And that would leave Quinn
a bit more time to moon over Craig. Not that she planned to declare their love
in front of everyone. It might be a little more than Jacob could take and she
didn’t want Robby to know, not like this, and not yet. No, they would slide
everyone into it. A few more dates first. It would take time, but it looked
like they had plenty of that.
After lunch, Quinn kept to the house
while Tom worked down at the barn. She had more unpacking to do. The humdrum
chore relaxed her, though provided too much time to remember the night before,
the calmer, deeper lovemaking that came after first attempt to massage a human.
Closing her eyes, she recalled each
detail, each caress and flame that licked her flesh.
“I love you.”
Craig’s
declaration played over and over in her brain, along with the memories of how
he touched her. How he held her all night long. Her heart charged with need.
There was no relieving it, not today. Not when she was stuck in the house.
Quinn left the chores and went back outside.
To the west the sky had cleared, but
huge pools of water covered the ranch yard. Not exactly good riding conditions,
though she longed to get away from the unpacking. Instead, she settled for
starting the evening feeding
By the time she’d lugged her last bucket
of water out to the paddocks, the sun began its descent into with a blast of
color. Quinn headed for the house, but instead of making dinner, she took a
beer out of the fridge and went back outside. She bypassed the swing that hung
from the stoop and settled on the top step of the front porch. With no plans
for the night, she thought maybe she’d sit right here and watch the sun
disappear beneath the horizon, sip on the beer and wonder what Craig and Marisol
were doing.
After doing just that, she was about to
get up and go inside when a pair of headlights cut through the deepening
twilight. Darkness hid the car until it pulled up to the house. When she
recognized it, she groaned and rested her forehead against her drawn up knees.
Robby
.
Why? How could a day start out so promising and end like this?
She couldn’t make an escape, so she
stayed put while Robby got out of his small truck. His booted feet squished in
the muddy drive as he approached. He’d left his hat behind and tonight he wore
an Oakland Raiders football jersey and black jeans. She admired his good looks,
but looks couldn’t carry him anymore with her. Or that flashy smile he sent her
way.
“Boy, this brings back memories,” he
commented and climbed the stairs. “Remember when my parents went to Minneapolis
for the weekend and Chris Larsen got us a six pack of beer?”
Quinn made a sound in her throat and
grimaced. Yes, she remembered. It had been her first taste of beer. She’d been
sixteen and smitten with Robby. By then Craig had been too long gone to hang on
to her crush. She wanted to be so cool in front of Robby she ignored what she
considered to be a bitter, vile flavor and drank two bottles of that swill. She
was a lightweight back then, and those two beers set her head reeling. There
had been dancing. Maybe a little singing.
“I believe we were on the porch swing.
When we were sitting.”
“Ugh.” She buried her face again.
“Got anymore of that?” He tapped her
bottle.
“In the fridge. Wipe your feet.”
A few minutes later, Robby rejoined her.
She hadn’t moved from the stairs. No need to give Robby any ideas that she’d
want to recreate that night. Though she stared out into the growing darkness,
she kept Robby in the edge of her sight. He tipped the bottle up to his lips
and drew a long sip.
“Hell of a lot better than that sewage
Chris bought us.”
Quinn chuckled. “And I thought it was
just my taste buds.”
“Nope. Could only afford a five buck six
pack. Not exactly quality.”
“Nearly ruined me for beer forever.
Hated it in college. Had my first decent beer in Germany.”
“Now you’re drinking this? Definitely
slumming.”
“Nah, this is okay. Far superior to that
other stuff, even though it’s not up to par with the Germans. Enough about
beer. Why are you here?”
Robby took another drink that must’ve
emptied half the bottle. “I’ve missed you. Long Knife Creek isn’t the same
without your red head. The sun doesn’t shine quite so bright.”
“Oh please.”
“Truth.”
“I’m sure there’re plenty of girls to
keep you occupied.” Quinn put the bottle up to her lips and drained the
contents. She grimaced at the now flat, luke warm liquid.
“Not really. Not since you left.”
Quinn slanted him a doubtful glance and
chuckled. “You don’t need to play charming with me, Robby. I’ve known you too
long to buy it.”
Robby grinned against the bottle as he
drew another long swig, emptying the contents. He stood quickly, snatched
Quinn’s empty bottle and dashed inside. Returning a moment later, he handed
Quinn a fresh, cold bottle and took his seat again.
“So, what will you buy?”
Quinn stared out into the darkness that
had taken over the prairie. Down in the paddocks she heard the horses shuffle
around. Next to her, Zorro lay flat on his side and sighed in his sleep. Even
with Robby sitting next to her, bumping her leg with his, contentment soaked
through her.
“I’m not interested in gimmicks,” she
replied, not looking at him. “I’m not interested in trips down memory lane. Or
attempts to make me swoon. I don’t react to show offs and I’m not interested in
grand romantic gestures.”
“Man, Q, you’re shooting me down on all
accounts. But you didn’t answer my question.”
She sighed. How dense could a man be?
She could’ve gotten mad and kicked him off the place, but instead she dug down
deep and found a bit of patience. “Robby, stop. Okay? If you’re here so you can
try to get back together you might as well leave. It’s not going to happen. I
thought I made myself clear. I’m not changing my mind.”
He was silent, except for the sound of
him taking another drink.
Good, he’d gotten the picture.
The pleasant
interlude was short lived, though.
“Is there another guy?”
“Robby,” she warned.
“Because if there’s another guy you
could just say so and I’ll leave you alone.”
Quinn stood and swung to face him. “No
you wouldn’t. It’s none of your business anyway.”
Angry, she went inside, slamming the
screen door behind her. Like she’d admit to him here and now she and Craig were
involved. She went into the kitchen and dumped the rest of her beer down the
drain.
If nothing, Robby was persistent. She
heard him coming through the door behind her.
“Why the hell are you getting so
defensive?” he demanded, leaning against the doorframe.
“Why the hell are you so determined? Oh,
Christ, Robby, you’re drunk.”
In the dark outside, she hadn’t noticed
the red around Robby’s eyes or the loose limbed stance of a man who had a few
too many. Damn! He’d driven all the way over here from Long Knife Creek.
“You’re an idiot,” she seethed and
grabbed the near empty bottle from Robby’s grip.
“I care. I want another chance.”