One Tiny Miracle: Branded with his Baby / The Baby Bump / An Accidental Family. Jennifer Greene
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ward away the chill and the puffy garment camouflaged his wiry torso.
Stroking his thick white mustache, he said to Quint, “So I see you finally managed to come check on your grandfather.”
Not allowing the old man any slack, Quint said, “I had to work at it. But I’m here.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Abe rocked back on his high heels. “Well, it’s about time.” He jerked his head toward the men behind him. “Jim’s makin’ some camp coffee. Come have a cup with us.”
“I just had coffee—with your nurse,” Quint added pointedly.
Abe grinned that goofy sort of grin that men got on their faces when they talked about women. “So you met the little filly, did ya? What’d you think about her?”
If Quint hadn’t been so shocked at his grandfather’s ribald questions, he would have rolled his eyes and cursed a blue streak.
“Forget about that,” he muttered. “What the hell are you doing, Gramps? You’re not sick! You’re using that vertigo problem of yours as an excuse to have her here. Aren’t you?”
“S-s-shh! Don’t be raising your voice so, damn it! She might hear you.”
“She’s in the house—two miles from here,” Quint reasoned.
His head tilting one way and then the other, Abe chuckled. “Well, she thinks I’m needy—and I am. At times. You know, Quint, I always had it in my mind that nurses were hard-hearted women. They sure seem like it when a man is sick. But Maura ain’t. She’s as sweet as a summer peach.”
“Since when did you need a summer peach?” Quint countered.
Abe shrugged. “Well—since I got dizzy.”
Quint snorted. “Looks to me like you’ve gotten more than dizzy.”
“That’s right,” Abe retorted. “I got the notion that I was tired of living alone.”
Shaking his head, Quint looked out at the ranch yard. The dipping sun was lengthening the shadows of the buildings. A pen of horses munched on alfalfa while around their feet several dominickers pecked at the morsels of oats and corn that had fallen from the feed troughs. Apache Wells had always felt more like home to Quint than any of the other Cantrell properties in Lincoln County.
As a young child he’d spent many days and nights here with his grandparents and those memories were more than special to him. His time here had influenced his life. The endless days he’d spent with his grandfather working in and out of the saddle had set Quint’s goals and visions for the future.
Yes, Apache Wells had always been special to him and he didn’t want a woman coming along and changing anything about it.
“Living alone! Gramps, you have men all around you. That’s hardly being alone.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” Abe countered with a question.
Quint frowned, then heaved out a heavy breath. “Look, Gramps, I’m not the one complaining about being lonely. You are. My life is one big whirlwind right now. I don’t have time to be lonely. And frankly, neither do you. So spare me.”
Abe scowled at him. “Spare you? I’d like to kick your ass.”
Seeing he was getting nowhere, Quint took a different direction. “So how long do you plan on keeping this nurse?”
Abe gave him a palms-up gesture. “‘Til I don’t need her, I suppose. ‘Course if I get over this dizzy problem, I’m hardly likely to run her off.”
Quint suddenly decided he’d been all wrong about the old man. Abe was sick. With dementia or something like it. Had Maura already recognized Abe’s problem and saw it as a way to get her foot in the door? He hated to think the woman might be that calculating. She didn’t seem the sort, at all. But then, he’d spent four years believing that Holly Johnson was a true-blue innocent and look what that had gotten him. She’d run off with a rich real-estate mogul and Quint had become the laughingstock of Lincoln County.
“Gramps, I want you to have a complete checkup. You need blood work, scans, the whole nine yards. You’re not yourself and we both know it.”
Abe laughed gleefully. “I’m not acting like myself, am I? Just because I’m enjoying a little female company? I think any doc would say you’re the one who’s messed up.”
“What about Granny?” Quint challenged him. “Doesn’t she matter anymore?”
Abe’s expression suddenly softened and he patted Quint on the shoulder. “She ain’t here anymore, Quint. All I have is memories and photos. A man needs more and you ought to understand that.”
Lord, did his grandfather have romantic intentions toward the nurse? “Gramps, did you hire her to be your nurse or something more personal?” Quint asked point-blank.
Abe turned a completely innocent look on him. “Why, to be my nurse, of course. But if she so happens to stumble around and fall in love with me—well, I sure as heck ain’t gonna push her away. If you know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, Quint knew all too well what his grandfather meant. He also knew that if he didn’t do something about this situation and soon, Abe was going to be hurt. In more ways than one.
Gazing thoughtfully in the direction of the ranch house, Quint rubbed a hand against his jaw. “I think I’ll stay for supper,” he suddenly announced.
Clearly skeptical, Abe asked, “Why? You thinkin’ you’re gonna hang around and horn in on your grandfather’s business?”
Quint looked at him. “No. I’m thinking that soup she was making smelled mighty good.”
He was also thinking that the moment he’d first walked into the kitchen, Maura Donovan had set off some sort of spark in him, a flash of heat that had taken Quint totally by surprise. Now he wanted to get closer to the woman, he decided. So close that he could see right into her pretty head. He could take a second look into her green eyes and found out for himself if that spark he’d felt had been real or imagined.
Though he wasn’t too sure which direction he wanted the decision to land…
Two days later, on the dirt drive that led to the Apache Wells ranch house, Maura was finishing the last of a two-mile jog. The early afternoon sun was hot. Sweat sheened her body and dampened her red tank top. The thought of languishing over a tall glass of iced tea pushed her forward, until the musical ring of her cell phone sounded in the pocket of her shorts.
Pausing in the middle of the narrow road, she fished out the small instrument and was immediately surprised to see the caller was her mother. Now that the Donovan children were all grown and capable of running the Diamond D horse ranch without them, her parents, Fiona and Doyle Donovan, had become regular globe-trotters. Only two days ago they’d been in Ireland visiting relatives on both sides of their extensive families.
“Hello, Mother!”
“You’re out of breath,” Fiona observed. “What did you do, run to the phone?”
“No. I’m out jogging,” Maura explained.
“Oh. I can call back later.”
Having five siblings meant that getting any exclusive, one-on-one attention from their mother was rare and precious. Just having her mother call so quickly after her return home made Maura feel special.
“Nonsense. I can walk and talk for a while,” she assured the other woman. “It’s so good to hear your voice. When did you get home?”
“Late last night. Your father and I are so jet-lagged we’re just getting around to having breakfast. Dallas was