Daring Dreamer
Quinn Valley Ranch Book 7
Kirsten Osbourne
Copyright © 2018 by Kristi Owings
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
Also by Kirsten Osbourne
Chapter One
Renae Quinn plucked a cookie out of the bag of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies she’d gotten from the only bakery in Quinn Valley. No one would notice if she was one cookie short of a dozen, would they? She hoped not, because she was taking the cookies to the big New Years bash at her grandparents. Every holiday was the same if you were a Quinn. You went to the grandparents’ house, and you brought something with you for everyone to share. Renae was anti-holidays this year, so she refused to bake anything.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” she mumbled to herself. “I’m just jealous of all the great matches made by my sister and cousins.” She stepped out of the bakery into the swirling snow and walked right into . . . well, it felt like a wall, landing on her backside in the snow. And all she could think to say was, “You made me drop my cookie!”
“I’ll buy you another one!” the wall responded, holding down a hand to help her up. “Are you okay?”
“My pride is more bruised than my backside, but both are going to be sore for a while.” She rubbed her bruised derriere. “I didn’t see you in the snow.”
“I didn’t see you either.” He took her arm, having no idea who he was touching because the snow was so thick, and he pulled her back into the bakery. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can take you to see Dr. Quinn.”
“Brooke told me that the next time I landed on my backside, she was going to refuse to look at it.” Renae brushed her hair out of her face and looked up at him. “I’m a bit of a klutz.”
“Oh, I know you!” he said. “You used to come over to our house all the time to hang out with my kid sister. I’m Chad. Chad Duncan.”
Renae smiled. “Renae Quinn. Sam and I have been friends since kindergarten.” Samantha was his little sister.
“I’m here picking up a cake for Ricky. It’s his third birthday tomorrow. Do you believe?” Ricky was Sam’s only son.
She put her hand over her heart, pretending to be wounded. “Oh! You make me feel positively ancient!”
He laughed. “Me too! That boy needs to stop growing. I keep telling him I’m going to put bricks on his head, but he just giggles.”
“Well, Uncle Chad, I’m not hurt, and I have to get back to work.”
“But I owe you a cookie!” he said, hurrying to the counter. “Can I buy one cookie from you? What kind?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Chocolate chip. No nuts.” She didn’t add that her sister was allergic to nuts, because no one needed to hear the boring details.
He waited for the cookie and handed it to her. “There you go. Now you can forgive me, and I can move on with my world.”
“I’m not so sure I can forgive you . . .”
He frowned at her. “Why not?”
“Well, you made me lose my cookie, and that part of the problem is fixed, but you made me fall in the snow, hurting my pride and my backside. Don’t you think something should be done about those?”
“Well, no one saw you fall but me, and I know it was my fault, so no need for your pride to be hurt. As for your backside . . .” He shook his head. “My mama always told me I shouldn’t be talking to girls about their bottoms.”
“I’m surprised your mama had to tell you that.” Renae took a step closer to Chad, lowering her voice. “Were you a bit dense?”
He laughed. “Not dense. Just not afraid to say much.” He couldn’t believe he’d never had a conversation with her. She was quite a bit younger than he was, though. “Will you be at Ricky’s party this evening?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. Will you be there?” She didn’t remember him being at any of the previous parties, but she barely remembered him at all.
“I will. This is his first birthday since I got out of the Army. I’m ready to see his face light up as he blows out his candles.”
“So that’s why I haven’t seen you around town. You’ve been in the Army!” She glanced at the time on her phone. “I’m already five minutes late! I have to run!”
“Be careful in the snow!” he called after her as she disappeared. He hoped she didn’t work far from the bakery, because she didn’t seem to be slowing down. He turned to the baker, who had a huge grin on her face. “I need to pick up a cake for a birthday party . . .”
Renae took the stairs instead of the elevator, hoping it would save her a minute of waiting. When she got up to the spa where she worked, her client wasn’t there yet, and she sank into a chair, letting out a breath. “I thought I was going to be late.”
“Well, you were late, but it just so happens your client is later than you are.” Her mother, April Lynn, shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever get your head out of the clouds enough to do anything on time.”
“I try! I was going to be on time, but I left the bakery and ran into a huge wall that just happened to be someone I knew, and he made me lose my cookie, so he had to buy me another one . . .” Renae trailed off, seeing her mother was shaking her head in exasperation. “Sorry, Mom. I tried!”
“I know.” Her mother patted her shoulder and sighed. “You have always been my dreamer. I guess I can’t say anything, though, because everyone in this whole valley is always running late.”
“This is true.” Her client came in then, and Renae flashed a smile. “Mrs. Stapleton! How have you been feeling since your last zone? Have you been moving around more like I told you?”
Mrs. Stapleton sat around way too much, and she always said she didn’t. Renae knew what her answer would be as soon as she asked the question. She also knew her answer wouldn’t be truthful. But what could she say? There was no law against lying to your foot zoner.
Renae was running late to the birthday party a few hours later. That one zone starting late had put her off schedule for the rest of the day. And though she wanted to be mad at Mrs. Stapleton, the truth was, she’d been late as well.
She hurried to the door of Sam’s house and knocked, letting herself in. They’d been friends for so long that no door could ever stay closed between them.
As she stepped into the house full of little people rushing around Ricky, her eyes searched for Chad. Why he’d made such an impression on her that afternoon, she didn’t know. Well, maybe she did. She’d daydreamed about him when she and Sam had been in junior high and he’d been in high school. There was just something about Chad that made her dreams go crazier than usual. And they were never what you’d call sane.
When she spotted him, she immediately looked away. She didn’t want him to think she was looking for him, and his eyes had been on her. She found Sam and hurried to her friend, giving her the present she’d brought for the birthday boy.
Sam hugged Renae close. “So glad you could come.”
“How could I miss Ricky’s party?” Renae asked with a grin.
“Oh, you absolutely couldn’t. You’re one of his favorite people.”
“How can I help?” Renae knew the real reason she was there was to help corral the little people. She and Sam had babysat together as teenagers, and now they corralled kids’ parties together. Life had a way of repeating itself.
“I’m trying to get them all a cup of punch poured. Can you get them each a hot dog on a bun? And I’m filling up little plates with mustard and ketchup. Only one thing per plate. Most of the little . . . darlings don’t like their condiments to touch each other.”
Renae couldn’t help but grin at her friend. She worked at putting hot dogs on buns and passed the plates off to Chad, who put them on the table. “Why did we decide to serve food this year?” she asked Sam.
“I have no idea, but I’m sure it was your idea . . .” Sam shook her head. “Next year, I’m taking charge.”
“I know it was your idea. Don’t you even try to lie to me, Samantha!”
Sam stuck her tongue out at Renae, and Renae laughed. With as long as they’d been friends, they could say anything to each other, and neither would be offended.
“How old are you two again?” Chad asked.
“Never ask a lady her age. It’s worse than talking about her backside!” Renae said, frowning at Chad.
“Wait . . . why would Chad talk about your backside?” Sam asked, looking back and forth between her brother and her best friend.
“How is your backside anyway?” Chad asked. “Any bruising?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t look! It’s sore, though.”
Sam stopped pouring punch. “I’m afraid to know what you two are talking about.”
“Chad ran into me and knocked me down in the snow, and he made me lose my cookie!” Renae said, glaring at the man in question.
“Chad! I hope you bought her another cookie!” Sam shook her head at her big brother. “Renae needs her cookies!”
“Of course I did. I’m not an absolute cretin. I even offered to massage her backside!”
Renae laughed at Sam’s shocked expression. “He did not. And I wouldn’t have accepted if he had.”
Sam still looked confused, but she held her tongue. Renae could tell she’d be getting the third degree later as they were cleaning up from the party.
Two hours later, there were balloons all over the floor along with torn gift wrapping. All of the children were gone except for Ricky, who was sitting on the floor playing with one of his new toys.
“We did it,” Renae said from her spot on the couch. She felt as if she’d just been through a minefield. All of her bones were gone, and she was just a lump of human flesh. It wasn’t an attractive thought, and she hoped Chad wasn’t looking at it, but she was too tired to turn her head to look.
“We did. Let’s do the party at a venue next year. Where can we do a kids’ party in Quinn Valley?”
“I’m sure Roxie would set you up at the hotel. Can’t you just picture having a party for four-year-olds in the ballroom?”
Sam laughed. “I don’t even want to think about what she’d say if I asked her. Hot dogs would not be on the menu, I’m certain!”
Chad walked back into the room, looking at the two women collapsed into heaps. “Want me to get a trash bag and start picking up the mess?” he asked. He was there to help, whether Sam knew it or not.
Sam nodded. “Yup. Renae and I need another few minutes to get over the ordeal we’ve just been through. Then we’ll get up and help out.”
“I’ll have it done by then.” He squatted down to his nephew. “Ricky, let’s play a game and see who can fill up a whole trash bag first.”
Ricky looked at him. “No. I’m playing with my new car.”
Chad sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it all alone. And I’ll take the rest of the birthday cake home, too.”
“Okay.” Ricky continued to play.
Renae bit back a grin. The boy had always thought for himself and been difficult to manipulate. “Give it up, Chad. He won’t buy it.”
“I guess not.” Chad started rushing around, cleaning up the paper that was scattered everywhere. “Why do you two look like someone just ran you over?”
“Because while you were playing with the kids, we were making sure they didn’t throw food at each other!” Sam exclaimed. “You were the fun uncle, and we were the police officers.”
Chad shrugged. “I guess.” He started to throw away the remains of several pieces of birthday cake. “What kind of kid doesn’t finish off a piece of white chocolate raspberry cake?”
“No idea,” Renae said. “I started to go behind them all and finish their food, but I thought that might be tacky.”
“Tacky maybe, but this cake is delicious. I hate wasting even a crumb! The new baker in town is amazing!” He eyed what was left of the cake and considered having another piece before he finished cleaning but decided against it. He’d have more, though. There was no doubt about that.
“I know! Don’t tell anyone, but I think she’s better than my grandmother, if that’s even possible.”
“Better than Gertrude Quinn? I don’t think that could be possible! She’s a legend in these parts!” Chad shook his head.
“Well, I think so. But then she’s my grandmother.” Renae finally felt like she was able to help a little, and she got up and started cleaning the kitchen. She didn’t say anything when Sam just sat on her couch staring off into space. She’d been there longer than Renae had.
“Does your family still do parties for every holiday?” Chad asked. “I know that was the thing before, but is it still happening?”
Renae nodded. “Every. Single. Holiday. I bought those cookies for my dish for New Years, but I will probably need to get more. I may have eaten three of them on the way here.”
He laughed. “I got myself a half dozen. They’re fabulous!”
“They really are.” She sighed. “I’m sure I’m going to need to go get more on Monday.” If she was honest with herself, she knew that had always been the plan. The cookies would have been stale by Tuesday anyway. And this way, she got her share without her vulture cousins descending on them.
“You don’t sound like you’re thrilled to be going to your grandmother’s for New Years. Something wrong?”
Renae shrugged. “Not really. It’s just weird. In the past few months I’ve had six cousins get engaged or married. I guess we’re in that time of life, and it feels strange going to all that stuff alone. You know?”
He nodded. “I do know. I’m glad it was just Sam and me for Christmas this year. I know if Mom had been around, she’d have been hounding me to find a wife. Grandma’s on my case all the time.”
She laughed. “That’s exactly how I feel. My grandmother is starting to really meddle in our lives. She wants us all married off so she can have a house crawling with great-grandbabies!”
“You need a beard.”
She blinked at him a couple of times. “A beard? Like when a gay man dates a woman so people don’t know he’s gay?”
“Yeah, except you just need any man. He doesn’t have to be gay!”
“Sure. I’ll just go out and find a man with a sign that says, ‘Will work for food.’ I’ll take him home with me, make him shower and get a haircut, and buy him new clothes. No one will ever know!” Renae took to the idea like she took to all ideas. She embellished it and made it into something huge.
“Or you could find a regular guy . . . say a horse trainer to be your beard.”
She pursed her lips and looked at him. “You wouldn’t be a horse trainer angling for some good homecooked food on holidays, would you?” Her heart thumped excitedly at the idea of spending some time with him. Even if they were doing it for show.
“Well, maybe . . .”
She laughed. “I guess Grandma’s food is legendary. Sure, you come be my beard, and I’ll be yours whenever you have a family thing.”
“But our family only gets together at Christmastime,” he protested. “That’s not fair!”
“Think of all the free food you’ll get!”
Chad gri
nned. “Well, maybe for the free food . . .”
She went to Sam’s fridge and found the paper that was always there for writing down a grocery list. She scribbled her phone number and address. “Pick me up at ten on New Year’s morning. And don’t be hung over. That wouldn’t go over well with Grandma.”
He looked at the paper and nodded, wondering what he was getting into. “All right.”
She frowned at him. “Better yet, come over on New Years’ Eve, and I’ll ply you with questions and make you take me to the pub for supper. We can dance and heckle my cousins who have to work.”
“Why would we heckle your working cousins?”
“Don’t you know anything about family? If they’re working and I’m not, I get to heckle them. The same way they’d heckle me if I went to Grandma’s without a date. See?”
Chad shrugged. “I guess I see. You’re a little odd. Did you know that?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always been a dreamer. My mom is constantly telling me to get my head out of the clouds and put my feet firmly on the ground. It’s never going to happen, but she tells me.” She happened to like exactly how she was. She just wished she didn’t fall so much because she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings.
“That’s what I remember most about you. You would come over after school, and Sam would be talking away, and you’d be just sitting there staring off into space, dreaming about something or other.”
“Yup, that’s me.”
“Well, Miss Dreamer, I will be at your house at seven on New Years’ Eve, and we’ll go to the party at the pub. And then I’ll go with you to your grandparents’ house on New Years’ Day. I’ll be your beard, and you can be my . . . what will you be?”
“I’ll be your lipstick.”
“I don’t need lipstick, and you certainly don’t need a beard. Maybe you can be my beard, and I’ll be your lipstick . . .”
Daring Dreamer (Quinn Valley Ranch Book 7) Page 1
