One Tiny Miracle: Branded with his Baby / The Baby Bump / An Accidental Family. Jennifer Greene
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about you, Quint? Are you a man who takes chances?”
“Only when I need to.”
His answer was evasive, but Maura didn’t prod him. Today was the most special day she’d had in a long, long time. There was no need for serious talk. This was a day to simply enjoy.
“That was a silly question from me,” she said after a moment. “Ranchers take risks every day. Dad always says that raising horses is like raising children—the job is hard as hell and you never know if any of them will turn out to be worth a damn.” She let out a short laugh. “But he loves us all—the horses and the kids—no matter if we aren’t stars.”
He looked at her quizzically. “Surely you don’t think you’re any less important than your siblings?”
One of her shoulders lifted and fell. “Did I say that?”
“Not in so many words. But there was something in your voice.” He reached across the table and touched his fingers to hers. “I sometimes get the feeling, Maura, that you’re down on yourself.”
The touch of his fingers was like a branding iron, sizzling a fire right through her hand and straight up her arm. He couldn’t possibly know how shaky and vulnerable he made her feel.
“My sisters are special. They’re both very beautiful and spunky. They go at life at full speed. I’m…just drifting.”
He frowned at her. “That’s plain wrong. You have a meaningful, admirable profession. You’re young and intelligent and very lovely. And you’re not drifting—unless you consider seeing after Gramps trivial.”
Surprise parted her lips. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean that at all. Abe is very important to me. I just meant that personally I’m drifting.” She sighed with a bit of frustration, then tried her best to smile. “I’m not down on myself, Quint. Just a little disappointed in the mistakes I’ve made.”
Unable to bear the burning touch of his fingers any longer, she pulled her hand away and reached for a plastic bag filled with brownies.
“Aren’t we all?” he murmured.
Her eyes locked with his and suddenly her heart lifted and a soft smile curved her lips.
“Yes,” she said huskily, then deciding it was time to change the subject completely, joked, “Is there a coffee house down the street? Coffee would be great with all these desserts we have.”
“We don’t have to go down the street, my lady. We can make coffee right here.” His eyes twinkled as he popped the last of a sandwich into his mouth and rose to his feet. “Come here. I’ll show you.”
She followed him to where the long counter separated the front of the room from the back. Behind the L-shaped barrier she was surprised to see a cast-iron potbellied stove and a small metal cabinet filled with canned food and basic staples for cooking. On the opposite side of the space, jammed in an out-of-the-way corner, an army cot covered with a faded Navajo blanket served as a bunk. Clearly, Quint had taken special efforts to make the place comfortable for him and the hired hands.
With his money, he could have gone overboard and rebuilt the whole structure. He could have supplied it with electricity, a bathroom and all the comforts of home. Instead, he’d chosen to keep the old building simple and full of character. He didn’t need or want everything he had to be new or perfect. And she realized she liked that very much about him.
“This is all very neat,” she told him. “Have you ever stayed here overnight?”
He chuckled as he shoved a few sticks of wood into the stove. “Once. About a year ago when Jake and I first started building the ranch. The two of us got caught out here in a blizzard and we ended up sleeping on the floor in our bedrolls and freezing our behinds. After that, we decided to fix this place up.”
He stuck a match to the kindling and when tiny flames began to lick at the sticks of wood, he shut the door on the stove and turned the damper wide.
“You’re very close to Jake, aren’t you?”
“He’s like a brother to me,” he said as he fetched a sack of coffee from the metal cabinet.
“Is that why you have him working for you?” she asked.
A faint grin touched his mouth as he filled the granite pot with water from his canteen. “I have him working for me because he knows everything there is to know about horses and cattle and can do more than three men put together. He was making good money at the track, working as manager over the training barns. But I was fortunate enough to talk him into helping me.”
“Hmm. From what I can see, you two are so different. How did you get to be such good friends?”
He poured a hefty amount of grounds into the water, then set the pot on the stove.
“In kindergarten and grade school we constantly whipped up on each other. He was always lipping off, daring me to do something I shouldn’t do. And I was the quiet one who exploded when he pushed too far. After a while, we both realized that neither could beat the other one up and we earned each other’s respect.” He looked at her and chuckled. “Thankfully, we don’t test each other anymore. Now that we’re grown men, I’m not sure who’d win. But I do know we’d fight for each other.”
She gravitated toward him and the heat that was now radiating from the stove. “I wish I could say I had a friend like that. But I don’t. In school, I guess you could say I was a loner of sorts. I had friends, but I didn’t build deep bonds with them. I saved all that for my sisters. The three of us are very close.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. My sister is my buddy, too. Although I don’t get to see her much now that she’s moved to Texas. Abe is trying to lure her and Jonas back, but I don’t think he’ll get that done. You see, Jonas is a Texas Ranger.”
“Abe tells me that you’ve driven him to San Antonio a couple of times to visit them,” Maura said. “If I remember right, he said the two of you made the trip to see Alexa and Jonas’s new daughter shortly before he started suffering from vertigo. That’s a long drive to make.”
Quint shrugged. “Gramps won’t fly. He says he doesn’t want to get any higher off the ground than a horse’s back. And when he dies he wants it to be with his boots on. But I don’t want to think of him dying in any fashion. I want to think of him living to be a hundred.”
Maura smiled gently. “And he’s just ornery enough to do it.”
His gaze met hers. “Yeah. He is.”
Something in his eyes, the softness in his voice, drew her to him in a way that was somehow even deeper and stronger than his kiss.
It was a strange sensation and so unsettling that she finally had to turn away and draw in a calming breath.
Behind her, she heard him move away, then the scrape of cans being pushed around the metal shelf. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he was putting away the sack of coffee grounds. Nearer to her, in the corner of her eye, she could see part of the makeshift bed and though she tried to keep her mind off it, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining how it might feel to lie with him here in the quietness, to feel his hands and lips moving over her body.
“Oh, hell! It’s going to storm!”
Quint’s exclamation had her spinning around just in time to see a huge gust of wind ripping through the doorway and snuffing out the candle on the table. Except for the light coming from outside, the space around them suddenly went dim and shadowy.
“I’ll get the door!” he shouted as he rushed around the counter and hurried to fasten the door.
Maura raced after him and peered through the slatted boards covering the empty squares that used to hold glass windows.
A wall of blue-black clouds was descending upon them at a rapid rate. Cold wind was tearing down the street, ripping clumps of dry sagebrush from