Rescuing the Cowboy. Cathy McDavid
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agency. He and his wife recently applied.” She groaned. “That wasn’t fair, either.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
She laughed softly. “Maybe you should. I’m not always as nice as people think I am.”
“You have a dark side.” One corner of Quinn’s mouth curved up in the beginnings of a sexy grin. “I’m intrigued.”
He wasn’t alone.
Summer held in a sigh. He probably had no idea how often kindness and compassion peeked out from behind the rough-around-the-edges demeanor he diligently maintained.
She’d have to watch herself closely if she hoped to guard her heart.
“How’d you get to be so nice?” she asked.
“I’m not nice. Not all the time.”
She smiled. “Ah. You’re like me. You have a dark side.”
“I don’t think there was ever a doubt. I did spend the last couple years in prison.”
“But you’re innocent.”
“My temper landed me there. And don’t say I was justified,” he interrupted when she started to speak. “I could have handled the situation differently and chose not to.”
How many people did Summer know who blamed anyone or anything besides themselves for something entirely their fault? It took a lot of courage and strength of character to admit one’s mistakes. Yet another reason to like Quinn.
“You didn’t answer my question. From what I’ve heard, prison isn’t the kind of place that brings out the best in a person.” She discreetly wiped at the perspiration forming on her brow.
Apparently not that discreetly for he said, “It’s hot out here. You want to go somewhere with air-conditioning? A coffee shop or a fast food place?”
She appreciated that he didn’t offer to take her to happy hour at the closest bar. “I can’t. I have to pick up Teddy. His after-school program ends at six sharp. No being late.”
“Then you’d better get a move on.”
“I will. As soon as you tell me. Why aren’t you angry and bitter and resentful and mean? Most people would be in your circumstances.”
Removing a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket, he slipped them on. She missed being able to stare into his eyes and watch the subtle play of emotions. Quinn said a whole lot without uttering a word.
Funny, he reminded her of Teddy in that regard.
“My father taught me everything I know,” Quinn finally said.
“About rodeoing?”
“Yes, and more. He competed for a while and did pretty good. Hundreds of bull rides, maybe thousands, and he never got seriously hurt. Some broken bones, of course, and a few trips to the emergency room. It goes with the territory. But nothing that ever laid him up for long. Ten months after he retired and went to work for a construction company, he was hit by a delivery truck at the job site and thrown fifteen feet onto solid concrete. I was seven at the time, but I remember everything. The weeks in the hospital. The months of physical therapy. Endless trips to the doctor. He was never the same afterward, and neither were we.”
“I’m so sorry.” Summer wondered if he’d put on his sunglasses to hide his pain.
“Traumatic brain injury. It’s a term that covers a lot. People assumed he was crippled from the accident. Actually, the part of his brain controlling movement was affected. It sends the wrong signals to his limbs. Twenty-six years later and he still can’t read for more than a few minutes before the words become a jumble. About once a month he’ll disappear into his room for two days with a migraine no amount of medication can alleviate.”
“Wow. That must be hard. For him and your whole family.” Another reason for his acceptance of Teddy.
“My father’s the same good, gentle person he always was. Funny. Easygoing. He’d give anyone the shirt off his back. Even strangers.”
“He sounds like a wonderful man.”
“People aren’t always nice, kids especially, and they teased him unmercifully. I suppose it’s to be expected. What I can’t understand and never will is why adults tease him, too. The same people he’d lend the shirt off his back mimic his limp or halting speech when he’s not looking. Sometimes they do it when he’s looking, then slap him on the back or jab him in the ribs as if that makes it okay.”
“Bullies come in all ages.” Summer was well aware of that sad fact. And Teddy wasn’t always the target. She received her share of cruel comments and dirty looks.
“I grew up tough and with a bad temper that took very little to trigger,” Quinn said.
“It would be hard not to develop a temper after what you’ve been through.”
“Prison wasn’t the first time I spent behind bars. I’ve been in jail more than once, and not for unpaid traffic tickets.”
If he intended to shock Summer, he hadn’t. “For minor infractions, I’m sure.”
“Fighting isn’t minor. Neither is drunk and disorderly.”
He didn’t have to add that a previous record hadn’t served him well at his trial.
“I haven’t had a drink since my arrest. Personal choice. I’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t intend to blow it. I may not get another one.”
“A good philosophy to have. I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“My parents had every right to be angry with me and disappointed and ashamed. Only they weren’t. My father told me once during a visit that what mattered most was the kind of man I became, not the man I was. I remember those words every day.”
“He’s a wise man, and you’re wise to have heeded him.”
Quinn shrugged. “You’re never too old to learn, I guess. Or, in my case, too stubborn.”
Summer’s phone beeped, her reminder that she had thirty minutes to pick up Teddy. Setting an automatic daily alarm helped keep her on track when she got busy.
She swiped her phone screen, silencing the alarm. “I have to go.” The learning center was a twenty-minute drive. She had just enough time to make it, barring any traffic jams. “Will I see you later at the riding arena?”
Convinced he was about to say no, he surprised her by nodding. “You will.”
She stifled the impulse to hug him.
Parting, Quinn got into his truck and Summer her car. He waited while she backed out of her parking space. She gave him a little wave before pulling ahead.
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