Читать книгу A Hero of Her Own - Carla Cassidy - Страница 7

As the purple shadows of twilight began to deepen, a responding tension filled Jewel. It wasn’t natural for the coming of night to bring something that tasted very much like suppressed terror into the back of her throat.

Jeff and Cheryl were in the process of getting the kids ready for bed and Jewel sat at the kitchen table making a list of school supplies she needed to purchase before school began next week.

When she finished her list, she would tuck each of the children in for the night. Those minutes just before bedtime, when she connected with each of the children with a good-night kiss and a wish for sweet dreams, was an important part of the routine of love that abounded at the ranch.

A knock sounded on the front door and she looked at the clock. Although it felt much later, it was only just after seven.

She hurried to the front door and opened it to see Deputy Adam Rawlings. As usual not a strand of his dark brown hair was out of place and he was impeccably dressed in his khaki uniform. “Hi, Adam.”

“I was just out making rounds and thought I’d stop by and say hello,” he said.

Jewel flipped on the outside light and stepped out on the porch to join him. “Quiet night?” she asked.

“Most of them are quiet,” he replied. “Not that I’m complaining. I heard you’ve got a new boarder. How’s that working out?”

She nodded. “A thirteen-year-old girl named Kelsey from Chicago. If you’d asked me yesterday how things were going I would have said not well. She was quiet and withdrawn. But today she appears more open. She loved the riding lessons at Clay’s yesterday and wanted to know when we’d be going again.” She broke off as she realized she was beginning to ramble.

“How’s everything else going?” he asked. His gaze narrowed slightly. “You look tired.”

“I am,” she admitted. “I was just sitting at the table, thinking about everything I need to buy for the kids to start school next week.” She smiled. “Trying to figure out school supplies for seven kids in seven different classes is enough to make anyone tired.”

“I’ll let you get back to it. I just thought I’d check in and see how you were doing.” He shifted his muscular body from one foot to the other. “If you get a minute to yourself and want to get dinner out or maybe see a movie, you know all you have to do is just call me.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Adam. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They said goodbye and then she watched as he left the porch and walked back to his patrol car. He seemed like such a nice man, good-looking and obviously interested in her. Unfortunately, she just didn’t feel anything for him except a mild friendship.

As his car pulled away, she went back inside to the kitchen table. She finished making her list and by then it was time to kiss the kids good-night.

She went into the boys’ bedroom first. The room held two bunk beds and at the moment all four sleeping places were occupied. Barry and Sam, the two older boys, had the top bunks and eight-year-old Jimmy Nigel and seven-year-old Caleb Torrel had the lower bunks.

“All tucked in?” she asked Barry as she approached him first.

He nodded. “Will you keep the nightlight on?” he asked anxiously. “I’m not scared or anything, but I just don’t like the dark.”

Jewel smiled at the dark-eyed boy. They had this same conversation every night. “The nightlight will be on until morning. Sleep tight, Barry.”

As she moved from Barry to Sam and then to the two younger boys, she couldn’t help but think of the baby she’d lost. She’d desperately wanted to be a mother, had been thrilled to discover she was pregnant. The minute the doctor had confirmed what she’d suspected, her heart had filled with a happiness she’d never known before and hadn’t known since.

As she moved from the boys’ room to the girls’, she shoved away thoughts of the baby she’d lost and dreams of what might have been.

There were three girls in residence at the moment. Kelsey slept on the top bunk of one of the beds and on the lower bunks were Lindy Walker and Carrie Lyndon, both ten years old.

Jewel went to Kelsey first. She didn’t touch the girl in any way, wouldn’t invade Kelsey’s personal space unless she was invited to do so. “Ready to call it a night?”

Kelsey nodded, her green eyes less guarded than they’d been the day before. “I’m not used to going to bed so early.”

Jewel smiled. “We believe in the routine of early to bed, early to rise around here. Besides, with school starting next week, it’s important that all of you get plenty of sleep.”

Jewel moved to the other beds, where the girls demanded good-night kisses and hugs, then she left the room and turned out the light. As in the boys’ room, a small nightlight burned in a wall socket.

She met Cheryl in the hallway and smiled tiredly. “Another day done,” she said.

Cheryl returned her smile and swept a strand of her long, dark hair behind an ear. “I wanted to run an idea by you. Jeff and I would like to plan a day trip for the kids in the next couple of weeks. There’s a Native American museum two hours from here and we thought it would be fun to visit the museum and have a picnic lunch at a nearby park.”

“Sounds like something they would enjoy,” Jewel replied.

“We haven’t finalized a day yet, I just wanted to put a bug in your ear about it.”

“Let me know what you and Jeff decide and we’ll work out the details.”

Cheryl nodded. “Then I’ll just say good night.”

As Cheryl headed toward the front bedroom where she and Jeff slept, Jewel returned to the kitchen. She tucked into her purse the list of supplies she needed to buy, then once again sat at the table to make notes in the files she kept on each of the children.

Busywork. In the back of her mind she knew that’s what she was doing, creating work to keep her mind off the fact that soon it would be time to go to bed.

To sleep.

To dream.

Again the taste of dread mingled with a simmering terror. If only she could have one night of peaceful sleep and happy dreams. If only she could wake up in the morning well-rested and happy.

If only Andrew hadn’t died in the car accident.

She sighed and focused back on the files in front of her. These were her children, the ones who came to Hopechest Ranch in need of stability and love. They were all she needed. And maybe a good night’s sleep was vastly overrated.

She didn’t know how long she’d sat working when she heard a strange scratching sound. She got up from the table and followed the noise to the front door. Definitely sounded like something scratching for attention.

Equally curious and wary, she unlocked the door and cracked it open. The door shoved inward and a chocolate-colored dog jumped up at her. In surprise she stumbled backward and fell on her behind. The dog licked her face as if she were a long-lost friend that he was thrilled to see again.

“Okay, okay,” she said with a burst of laughter as the dog continued to lavish her with kisses. She looked up to see Quinn standing in the doorway. Her heart jumped with a quickened beat.

He stepped inside and took the dog by the collar. “Sorry about that,” he said as she quickly got to her feet. “He’s a Lab and just a puppy so he hasn’t learned his manners yet.”

“It’s okay.” Jewel reached up and self-consciously raked her fingers through her hair. As always the sight of Quinn sent an electrical tingle through her. “He’s a cutie. Is he yours?”

“Actually, I was hoping he’d be yours,” Quinn said.

“Mine?” She looked at him in surprise.

The dog sat on the floor next to him, looking first at Quinn, then at Jewel, as if aware that they were talking about him.

“It might be presumptuous of me, but I thought maybe you could use a companion, especially when you decide to take a walk in the woods late at night.” Quinn shoved a strand of his thick, wavy hair away from his eyes, and shifted from foot to foot, as if suddenly extremely uncomfortable. “Maybe it was a stupid idea.”

“No, it was a lovely idea,” she replied, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “Actually, we’ve talked about getting a dog since I first opened the doors here, but we’ve just never gotten around to it. What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have an official name yet.” Quinn’s eyes were a warm topaz. “I have to warn you, he’s only twelve weeks old. He’s not quite housebroken, but he’s a big lover and has a terrific personality. Most important, he’s great with kids.”

“Then how can I possibly turn away such a wonderful gift?” she replied. The children would be positively thrilled with this new addition to the family. “Maybe we’ll put him in the garage for tonight. Do you think that’s okay?”

He nodded and clipped a leash to the collar. “I’m sure that’s fine. Why don’t you take him and I’ll unload the supplies from the truck.”

“Supplies?”

He smiled, a warm, beautiful gesture that detracted from the scar across his cheek and transformed him from slightly dangerous-looking to more than slightly wonderful-looking. “In the truck I’ve got a doggie bed, food and water bowls, a couple of toys and several bags of kibble.”

“Quinn, you didn’t have to do all that,” she protested as she took the leash from him.

“It wouldn’t be fair to give you a gift that cost you a ton of money,” he replied. “And along with the gift comes free veterinary services for the life of that guy. Consider it my donation to Hopechest Ranch.”

She started to protest once again at the generosity of the gift, but then changed her mind and smiled. “Thank you.”

Together they walked out of the door. She headed for one of the three garages as he went out to his truck. The first garage was the playroom for the kids. The second was where she parked her car and the third was currently empty. It was to the empty one that she led the puppy.

As she waited for Quinn she crouched down and stroked the puppy’s back. “We’ll let the kids give you a name,” she said. He gazed at her with big, brown, adoring eyes.

Her heart expanded with warmth. Quinn had brought her a dog to walk in the woods. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her. He thought she could use a companion.

Had he sensed the deep, abiding loneliness that had been her constant companion for the last couple of years? A loneliness that never went away, no matter how many people surrounded her, no matter how the children filled her days and nights.

She stood as he approached with two big sacks of dog food over his shoulder. Although he was tall and lean, he had broad, strong shoulders that easily managed the heavy bags.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said. As he drew closer, a new spark of electricity swept through her.

“I figured maybe if you’re grateful enough you might invite me in for a cup of coffee.” He set the bags on the garage floor.

“I think maybe we can work something out,” she replied. She told herself that the crazy buzz she felt at the very idea of spending some time with him was nothing more than the pleasure of having somebody fill these hours of darkness before she finally called it a night.

It took him only minutes to unload all the items from his truck. She got the pooch settled for the night, then Quinn followed her inside and to the kitchen.

The kitchen was one of the largest rooms in the house, but as Quinn took a seat at the long wooden table, she felt as if the room shrank. He possessed a simmering energy beneath his calm, cool exterior, an energy that seemed to shimmer in the air around him.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” he asked as she made the coffee. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I got to your front door.”

“It’s not a problem,” she assured him. “I normally don’t go to bed too early.” It was only when she turned away from him to check on the coffee that she remembered what had happened the night before—their encounter in the woods and the lie he’d told her about what he’d been doing there.

Quinn wasn’t sure what happened, but one minute her brown eyes were warm and inviting and the next minute they chilled and held a new wariness.

“You lied to me last night,” she said. “You told me that you had been over at Clay’s because he had a horse down, but I asked him about it and he said all his stock was healthy.”

So that’s what had caused the change in her expression. She’d obviously just remembered what he’d told her the night before.

“Yeah, I lied,” he admitted. “It was a stupid thing to do. I was embarrassed that I’d bumped into you, embarrassed to tell you the truth.”

She remained standing by the counter next to the coffeepot. The coffee was finished brewing but she made no move to get cups. He had a feeling that she was waiting for his explanation and if she didn’t like it, then the offer of coffee would be rescinded.

And he didn’t want that. It had taken him all evening to work up the nerve to come here. In fact, it had taken him months to work up his nerve to be here. He wanted to have coffee with her. He wanted to know more about her.

“And what, exactly, is the truth?” she asked, the coolness in her voice strong enough to frost his face.

“I don’t sleep well, haven’t for years. On the nights when I know I won’t be able to sleep I go to Clay’s and spend time with my horse, Noches. I board him there and right now he’s my favorite nighttime companion.”

She searched his face, as if on his features she’d discover if he was telling her the truth or not. “Jewel, why else would I be out in the woods in the middle of the night?” he asked.

She turned her back on him to reach for two cups in the overhead cabinet, but not before he saw a flash of emotion in her eyes, an emotion that looked something like fear. “You should have just told me that last night,” she replied. She poured the coffee then joined him at the table.

“I haven’t been eager for it to get around that the town vet suffers from insomnia. The first time an animal dies for whatever reason everyone will say it’s my fault because I don’t get enough sleep,” he said.

She took a sip of her coffee, her brown eyes gazing at him curiously over the rim of her cup. “It must have been difficult for you,” she said as she placed the cup back on the table. “When you had to put down Clay’s horse and so many in the town turned against you. Clay told me all about it.”

“It was difficult,” he agreed, “but it’s over and done with, and I try to keep difficult things from my past firmly in the past.” As thoughts of Sarah drifted through his mind, he decided a change of topic was in order. “I understand I missed a big reunion over at Clay’s place this morning.”

“You did.” A smile curved her lips and Quinn felt the beauty of the gesture in a starburst of warmth in the pit of his stomach. “It was wonderful to see Clay and Ryder together again. Finally, I think they’re going to have the relationship they both want.”

Quinn nodded. “I know how badly Ryder’s lifestyle hurt Clay, the bad choices his brother made when he was younger, but it sounds like he’s turned it all around.”

“How did you hear about it—the reunion, I mean?” she asked curiously.

“I ran into Georgie and Nick and Emmie at the café this evening.” He smiled. “Emmie told me she’s excited to start school next week and she’s determined to make one friend who isn’t a cowboy.”

Jewel laughed and again Quinn’s stomach filled with a welcome warmth. She had a nice laugh. “That one is a pip,” she said. “I know Georgie has been worried about her fitting in at school. Emmie has spent her whole life on the rodeo circuit with adults as her peers, but I keep telling Georgie that Emmie is going to be just fine. She’s so bright, she shouldn’t have any problems.”

There followed several long moments of uncomfortable silence. Quinn felt like a teenage boy on a first date as he desperately searched for an interesting topic of conversation. He’d been wanting to get to know her better ever since she’d come to town, but it had been years since he’d done the dating dance.

“I’ll bet your kids…” he began.

“How did you get…” she said at the same time.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I was just going to ask where you got the dog.”

“I helped deliver a litter of four and the owner insisted I get pick of the litter for helping out. I already have a dog and so figured I’d just try to find him a good home. I think this will be a great place for him.”

She smiled. “The kids will love him and taking care of him will be therapeutic for them.”

He leaned back in his chair, some of his tension beginning to ebb. “You like what you do here.”

She nodded, her golden-brown hair sparkling beneath the artificial light. “I love it. I was working for Meredith Colton at the Hopechest Ranch in Prosperino, California, and when she offered me the opportunity to come here and open up a ranch, I jumped at the chance.”

“Was it a tough change? Moving here from California?” He took a drink of the coffee.

“Not really. I was ready for a change and, of course, Clay has been very supportive.”

“He thinks a lot of you,” Quinn said.

“He thinks a lot of you, too.”

“He’s been a good friend and a great support over the years.” Quinn took another sip of his coffee.

“You know, I have the same problem you do with insomnia,” she said. She wrapped her slender fingers around her coffee cup and looked more vulnerable than she had moments before. “I start dreading the coming of night just after dinner.”

He wasn’t surprised by her confession. “Have you seen a doctor? Maybe you could get a prescription for some sleeping medication.”

She waved one of her hands. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to medicate myself to sleep. What about you? Have you seen a doctor, Doctor?” she asked lightly.

“No, I’m like you. Eventually after a couple nights of restlessness I manage to get in enough sleep to keep going.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “From what Clay has told me, that’s not the only thing we have in common.”

“What else do we have in common?” One of her eyebrows danced up quizzically.

“We’ve both lost people we cared deeply about. Clay told me about your fiancé. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her eyes darkened as her complexion paled. “Thank you. It was a tragedy, but it’s in the past.”

It was obvious by the tightening of her lips, the paleness of her skin, that even though it was in her past, she still felt deeply the grief of the loss. She cleared her throat. “What about you? Who did you lose?”

“My wife, Sarah.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d been married.” Some of the color returned to her cheeks.

“We weren’t married long before she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Six months later she was gone.”

To his surprise Jewel reached out and covered his hand with hers. “Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”

Her touch sizzled through him and he turned his hand over so that he now grasped her hand. “The only reason I told you this is because I want you to know that I understand grief, that if you need somebody to talk to, I have a good ear and strong shoulders.”

She pulled her hand from his as if suddenly uncomfortable by the physical connection. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m doing okay. Tell me about Sarah. What was she like?”

“Quiet and sweet. We met while I was in school. I was getting my degree in veterinary medicine and she wanted to be a nurse. It began as friendship and grew into love. She loved animals almost as much as I did and we talked about having a dozen kids and twice as many dogs and cats. What about your fiancé, Andy…wasn’t that his name?”

“Andrew, never Andy,” she replied, her eyes going soft. “He owned an accounting firm. He loved numbers and puzzles and he’d asked me to be his wife on the night that he died.”

“Clay told me it was a car accident.”

She nodded and once again wrapped her fingers around her cup, as if seeking warmth from the coffee it still contained. “We were driving home from the restaurant where we’d eaten dinner. It was misting and the road was dark. A Hummer seemed to come out of nowhere and steered right into the driver side of our car. I was knocked unconscious.” One of her hands moved to splay on her stomach. “The driver of the Hummer was never found.”

Quinn wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and hold her until her haunted, vulnerable look went away. “Even though you can’t ever prepare yourself for the death of somebody you love, I had six months to prepare myself for saying goodbye to Sarah, but you had no time to prepare yourself for saying goodbye to Andrew.”

She shrugged. “It happened. It’s over and life moves on.” She glanced at the clock on the stove.

“It’s getting late,” he said, taking it as a hint. “I should get out of here.” She didn’t argue and he stood and carried his cup to the sink. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said as they walked to the front door.

“Thanks for the dog,” she replied. “It was a very thoughtful thing for you to do.” She opened the front door and leaned against it.

He knew she was waiting for him to walk out, but he was reluctant to leave. “Jewel, I’m sorry if our conversation brought back bad memories.” He’d finally gotten an opportunity to talk to her one-on-one and the topic of conversation he’d chosen was their painful pasts.

To his horror her eyes misted with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said as the tears spilled onto her cheeks.

He stepped toward her then, unable to stand by while she cried, feeling guilty because he was responsible for her tears. He should have talked about the weather, or about town politics, about anything but loss.

He opened his arms to her and to his surprise she walked into them and laid her head against his chest. He embraced her, the scent of her soft, floral perfume eddying in the air.

The last thing he’d expected when he’d arrived here tonight was to have her in his arms, but when she raised her face to look up at him, he knew he wanted to take it one step further. He desperately wanted to kiss her.