Rescuing the Cowboy. Cathy McDavid
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technically inaccurate, Quinn didn’t mind.
“Nothing much. What about you?”
“Daddy says I’m being bad. Too noisy.”
The boy was followed by his ever-present shadow, his eighteen-month-old sister, Kimberly. She babbled in a baby language Quinn couldn’t translate.
His throat strangely tightened. His daughter—hell, he didn’t even know her name—was maybe six months younger than Nathan. He didn’t know her exact age, either. Damn. It wasn’t fair. Frustration built before he could contain it.
“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Hearing Summer’s voice, he glanced up to see her and Teddy approach.
“No problem,” Quinn answered. “It’s a beautiful evening. A shame not to enjoy it.”
“Those two were being a bit rambunctious. I offered to take them outside. Teddy needed a break anyway.”
Quinn angled his head to better see Teddy. “I know how you feel, pal. Crowds get to me, too.”
The boy rewarded Quinn by making eye contact for a few seconds.
“He likes you,” Summer said, a trace of wonder in her voice.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Noooo,” Kimberly abruptly cried out, her one understandable word. Frowning, she pushed at Nathan.
He retaliated by kneeling in front of the fountain, dipping his hand in the tepid water and splashing her. She screamed as if doused with boiling lava.
Quinn stood. Before he could intervene, Summer did.
“Hey, you two. Behave.”
“She hit me,” Nathan objected, scrambling to his feet.
“You’re bigger and older than her.”
She attempted to reason with the boy, explaining how it was his job to set a good example for his sister. From the way Nathan stuck out his lower lip, Quinn could see he wasn’t taking the lesson to heart. Beside him, Teddy began humming. Quinn didn’t think it bode well.
Something he hadn’t thought of in years suddenly popped into his head. Reaching for his wallet, he extracted a dollar bill. Teddy watched Quinn’s every move as he executed a number of intricate folds. Before too long, the bill resembled a swan. A rather crooked swan, mind you. Quinn’s skills were rusty.
“Here. Take it.” He handed the swan to Teddy.
After lengthy and careful consideration, Teddy took it.
“Come on.” Quinn walked to the fountain, motioning to Teddy.
The boy just stared, his eyes void of expression.
Quinn pointed to the water. “Swans like to swim.”
By now, Summer, Nathan and even Kimberly watched in fascination.
Finally Teddy complied. At the fountain’s edge, he gingerly set the paper swan on the water. It bobbed gently and floated toward the center of the fountain.
“I want one, too.” Nathan rushed Quinn and hugged his thigh.
“You have to be good.”
“I will. I be good.”
Quinn quickly constructed a second swan. Nathan smashed its tail before launching it in the water. He didn’t appear to mind. Kimberly eagerly squeezed between the boys. Teddy remained rooted to his spot, ignoring both other children.
Summer sidled up beside Quinn. “Where did you learn to make those?”
“My sister. She was into origami for a while when we were kids. I can also make an eagle and a ring. Or, I could. Maybe not now.”
“A man of many talents.”
He liked the silky quality of her voice and the fluid grace of her movements. “I’d forgotten about it until now.”
“Memories are funny things. They can be buried for years and surface all at once. Then there are those that are never far away.”
Quinn had a lot of those kind.
By unspoken agreement, they moved to the bench, where they could keep the children in sight. It wasn’t a large bench, and only a few inches separated them. Aided by the exterior light that had come on automatically, Quinn saw a tiny jeweled stud in her right ear, appreciated her attractive profile and discerned at least three distinct shades of color in her hair, ranging from blond to gold to red.
He shouldn’t ask but he did anyway. “Is Teddy’s dad in the picture? I noticed you came to the party alone.”
“He is.” Summer shrugged. “Barely.”
“A shame.”
“I agree. Teddy was three when the doctors officially diagnosed him. By then, our quiet but seemingly happy child had almost completely withdrawn and barely spoke. Hal didn’t take the diagnosis well. Up until then, he hoped whatever was wrong with Teddy was treatable and reversible. We divorced about a year later. He was visiting every few months.” Her voice altered slightly. “He remarried this past winter. Since then, he’s been coming by every couple of weeks. I think his new wife has more to do with it than any sense of responsibility.”
Quinn chose to keep his opinion of Summer’s ex to himself.
She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I can’t believe I told you all that. We barely know each other.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers.”
“Teddy doesn’t seem to notice the lack of a father in his life. Truthfully, he’s been more aware of you in the last fifteen minutes than of Hal in the past year.” She stared into the distance.
Quinn wondered if she saw the same beauty and majesty he had earlier or if she took it for granted. He liked to think the former. Summer struck him as a sensitive person.
She cleared her throat. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“I was wrong earlier. You should accept the job. You’ll be wonderful. With the horses and the children.”
“You have good reason to be worried. I spent over two years in prison.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“To have doubts, then.”
She glanced at the children. Teddy continued to focus on the paper swans, now becoming waterlogged. The younger two had abandoned the fountain to play with a tennis ball they’d found in a bush.
“Josh and Cole told me you’re innocent. That new evidence cleared you.”
“I didn’t hurt the guy. But we did get into an altercation that night in the bar. There was some shoving. Shouting. Threats. I’d like to say he had it coming. Truthfully, I’ve had...problems with my temper in the past. Still do.”
“You’re kidding. You strike me as pretty laid-back.”
“Ah. Well, I work on it. Constantly. Prison’s good for changing a person’s perspective. Maybe the only thing it’s good for.”
“You didn’t let it destroy you, Quinn. That’s what’s important.”
She was wrong. Prison had destroyed a part of him he could never get back. The part that had fearlessly faced life.
“The guy was a jerk.” Quinn had called him far worse names when not in earshot of kids.
“What did he do that made you angry?” she asked. “Besides being a jerk. Hit on your girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
She drew back. “I wasn’t serious.”
“He