by Debra Cowan
“But—”
“Is there some reason you don’t want me to attend?” His gaze, challenging and smug, pinned her to the spot.
Oooh, the mean old geezer knew she was lying. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it. “No. Of course not.”
“You and Zeke will stay here tonight,” he said. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning on the stage.”
“All right,” she said shakily. Zoe felt sick to her stomach. She’d let her sister down.
Her mind raced for some other way to get the money, but she couldn’t come up with anything. If she didn’t have a plan by tomorrow morning, she would have to completely humiliate herself and ask Quentin to marry her.
Though she would rather tangle with a rattler, that wouldn’t even be the worst of it.
Quentin would say no and she’d be right back where she’d started. No money for Dinah’s tuition.
Quentin was sure he’d seen interest in Zoe’s eyes. Well, pretty sure. The next day, impatience burned through him to find her, to determine if he was right.
That afternoon, he went out the back door of Dr. Annalise Fine’s clinic, off the flat stoop and moved alongside her as they made their way to the front of the two-story building that also served as her home. Wagons rattled through the street and people called greetings to each other as they went about their business.
During his meeting with Annalise, he’d heard the stagecoach thunder into town and he wanted to know if Zoe was on board.
His gaze shifted to the opposite side of Main Street, to the Whirlwind Hotel directly across from Annalise’s clinic, then it moved past the telegraph and post office, the Pearl restaurant and the jail. There was no sign of her.
As Zoe had gotten on the stage, she had looked worried. Of course, she hadn’t volunteered any information.
Had she returned from Abilene yet? Why had she gone? He knew she had family there. A grandfather. But Zoe had never set eyes on the man, much less visited him.
After seeing her yesterday, Quentin hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. About them. He had been a prideful, stubborn fool to push her away after being crippled.
He had never stopped desiring her, and last night he had admitted what he had been thinking for a while now—he wanted another chance with her.
Maybe she was still gone, dammit.
Beside him, Annalise said, “You can think further about the surgery, Quentin. There’s no rush.”
Minutes earlier, they had discussed the operation that he hoped would allow him to walk again. Annalise had just performed a different back surgery on J. T. Baldwin. “J.T.’s doing all right, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but it’s only been a couple of days since I operated on him. It’s not clear yet exactly what, if any, improvement he’ll have. Besides, your injury is different. There’s likely still a bullet next to your spine. I can’t predict what will happen if I remove it.”
Quentin nodded, still searching the town for Zoe. He’d been carrying this slug inside him since his brother-in-law, Jake Ross, had put it in him seven years ago. For a long time, Quentin had hated Jake, blamed him for Delia’s death. He could admit now that his late sister’s husband had had every reason to fire back when Quentin had ambushed him in a hail of bullets.
“I’m ready,” he said to the doctor, one of his closest friends. “I’ve thought about it long enough.”
His gaze traveled from the clinic to the stagecoach at the far end of the street. The coach was empty and he didn’t see Zoe anywhere around. He fought back a surge of disappointment.
Annalise came to a halt in front of her clinic. “Plan to stay here until you’re healed enough to fend for yourself.”
“Okay.” He glanced down the street and stilled. There was Zoe at the far end of the street coming out of the Fontaine. She wore exactly what she’d had on yesterday.
Annalise’s green gaze swept the street. “Who are you looking for?”
“Found her,” he murmured.
“Ah.” His friend spotted Zoe. “Have the two of you patched things up?”
“No.” With Delia gone, Annalise was the one person who knew that Quentin and Zoe had been seeing each other before he’d been injured. Before he’d ruined it. “Not yet.”
“But there’s hope?”
“If I didn’t misread the look in her eyes yesterday.” He smiled up at Annalise. “Maybe we’ll work things out the way you and Matt have.”
Annalise had recently moved back to Whirlwind after years away and had reunited with Matt Baldwin, the cowboy who had broken her heart so long ago. Two days ago, he had been in a shoot-out with a band of rustlers holding her hostage at a ranch outside of town. Now the cattle thieves were dead and Annalise was safe.
Zoe stepped off the Fontaine’s wide sandstone porch, lifting a hand to shade her eyes from the mid-afternoon sun.
Annalise turned for the front steps of her clinic, touching Quentin’s arm. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” He would need it, he thought as he steered his chair away from the clinic, past Cal Doyle’s law office then Haskell’s General Store. More than likely Zoe would cross to the other side of the street when she saw him coming, but so far she seemed unaware of him.
He noticed that her attention went to the newspaper office then to the mercantile. Her gaze lit on him and she stopped cold.
So did Quentin. Her thick lustrous hair was hidden beneath the navy bowler hat. He was still too far away to see the expression on her face, but he had no trouble reading the rigid set of her shoulders. She was tall with lush curves, and though she walked gracefully, there was also purpose in her smooth gait.
“Quentin!” Picking up her skirts, she crossed to his side of the street and hurried toward him.
She had called his name. And…she was coming toward him. Trying to absorb these facts, he admired her clean-lined classic features.
There was nothing fragile about the determined set of her jaw and pretty mouth. Dark brows arched over sapphire-blue eyes, enhanced by her pert nose and high cheekbones.
Between the newspaper office and Haskell’s, she stopped inches from him, frowning. As she spoke, she looked over her shoulder. “May I speak with you?”
“Of course. I wanted to have a word with you, too.” He doubted she wanted to talk about the same thing he did, but his pulse thudded hard anyway.
When her attention returned to him, her eyes widened. “You shaved your mustache!”
Smiling, he touched the now-smooth skin above his lip. “This morning.”
“It’s nice.” She tore her gaze away and smoothed a hand down her skirts. Courtesy of the hours she’d spent in the stage, her navy traveling dress was dusty and rumpled. “I need your help.”
“You do?” That wasn’t what he’d expected. “What’s wrong?”
“Sister!”
Quentin peered around her to see Zeke. The boy’s voice carried all the way from the porch of the hotel Zoe had just left.
“Oh, no!” She blanched. Even in the bright sunlight, her skin looked waxy.
Her brother hurried toward them. Along with a tall older gentleman.
“That’s my grandfather,” she explained urgently. “There’s no time to explain. Please just say yes.”
Yes to what?
That was all Zoe could relay before the pair were upon them. Quentin had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was had his former love desperate enough to come to him.
Zeke halted beside his sister and smiled broadly. “Hi, Quentin.”
“Hi, Zeke.” His gaze moved to the older man.
“This is Grandfather Upton,” the boy said.
Panic flashed through Zoe’s blue eyes. Quentin noted a definite resemblance in the family’s blue eyes and red hair.
The big man looked Quentin over, features growing dark as he stared disapprovingly at Quentin’s useless legs. He stiffened.
“So, you’re the man who’s going to marry my granddaughter?”
Marriage! By some stint of will, Quentin managed to keep his jaw from dropping.
Chapter Two
Quentin fought to stay focused on the older man. He didn’t know what was going on, but there was no mistaking the plea in Zoe’s blue eyes. Please just say yes, she had begged.
To marriage?
Holding the man’s derisive gaze, Quentin extended his hand. “Hello, sir. Quentin Prescott.”
The man shook and withdrew his hand quickly. “How do you propose to take care of my granddaughter when you’re stuck in that wheelchair?”
Zoe made a small noise of protest.
Quentin gave her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t the first time he’d met with a question like this. Or asked it of himself. “I may not be able to walk, Mr. Upton, but my brain and my hands work just fine.”
“Can you provide for the girl and her brother?”
“Sir!” Her eyes sparked with anger.
Quentin glanced at her. “It’s all right, Zoe. I’m sure your grandfather just wants the best for you.” He had his doubts about that, but he saw no reason to fan the flame.
“And what about children?” Upton asked baldly. “Can you have them?”
“Grandfather!” The horror on Zoe’s face matched that in her voice.
Quentin didn’t flinch from the man’s brutal question. “That’s between your granddaughter and me.”
Despite the flush of anger on Zoe’s face, his words won a half smile from her and a look of respect.
“I want to know if you’re marrying her for the money,” the man rasped.
Quentin’s hands tightened on his chair’s armrests as he struggled to rein in his temper. “No, sir, I am not. I have my own business and I also work for the Prairie Caller.”
“You raise honey?” Upton asked gruffly.
“And sell it. To everyone in Whirlwind and at Fort Greer. To the Texas & Pacific Railroad and several places in Abilene. I get by just fine. Besides, Zoe has more to recommend her than money.”
For an instant, pleasure softened her features. He remembered a time when she had often looked at him that way.
Her brother moved closer to her, worry plain on his freckled face. “Why are you being mean, Grandfather? You know Zoe loves Quentin.”
That was more than Quentin knew. Heart thudding hard, his gaze went straight to Zoe’s. Even in the midday glare of the sun, he could see her flush. Interesting.
She shifted uneasily, looking everywhere except at him. “Um, I told Grandfather we didn’t know for sure when we would marry.”
He was slowly putting together what had happened yesterday in Abilene although that didn’t explain why his name had come up.
Upton studied him. “I’d like you to have dinner with us tonight at the Fontaine so I can get to know you better.”
More likely, the man wanted to dissect him verbally, but Quentin nodded. “Of course.”
His newly intended looked wobbly and as if she might be sick. He maneuvered his chair closer to her and took her hand. “If you wouldn’t mind, sir, may I have a moment alone with my fiancée? Seems as though she’s been gone longer than a day.”
The big man’s gaze went from Quentin to Zoe. He gave a sharp nod. Releasing her hand, Quentin rolled his chair a few yards away and stopped just feet from Annalise’s clinic. Zoe followed.
He situated them so that her back was to her family and he had a clear view of her grandfather. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “What’s going on?”
“I know this is crazy,” she said in a half whisper. “And there’s absolutely no reason for you to say yes, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It’s okay.” He took her hand, brushing his thumb across her wrist. Her skin was so soft. “Why does your grandfather think we’re getting married?”
“Because I told him so. Well, Zeke did,” she clarified with a grimace.
Quentin wanted to know the reason for that. His gaze caught on a wisp of red hair blowing gently against her elegant neck. Beneath the grime of travel, he caught a whiff of her clean soap scent. “All right.”
She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. She must’ve remembered they had an audience because she didn’t fight it. She didn’t relax either. “You remember my mother was estranged from my grandfather?”
When he nodded, she continued, “Her inheritance passed to me when she died. She never wanted the money and neither did I, but now I need it. My grandfather has control of everything and I can’t get it unless I marry. Dinah’s tuition has gone up. With the drought this last year, so many people have come upon hard times.”
“You can’t find enough work to pay for your sister’s school in Connecticut and take care of Zeke.”
“That’s right. I thought if I went to Grandfather and explained, he might give me the money. But no. He doesn’t think a woman should work outside the home at all. He refuses to deposit the money into my account until I marry. So when Zeke named you, I, um, went along with it. I said we were going to get hitched. Soon.”
Quentin’s gaze moved slowly over her face as he admired the straight nose, the pale pink lips, the petal-smooth peachy complexion that freckled easily. He found her tiny freckles charming; Zoe didn’t and never had. He’d always wondered where else they were on her body.
“Zeke’s the one who spouted off your name, not me.” She tugged her hand away this time and folded her arms, drawing his attention to her full breasts.
When she realized he was staring at her chest, she stiffened. “After what happened between us, I would never mention you in a situation like that. Don’t read too much into it.”
“I won’t.” He ignored the stab of pain he felt at her blunt statement. After what he’d done, he could hardly blame her for feeling that way. “I’m aware of what you think about me.”
She hesitated. “When Zeke said your name, Grandfather pounced on it. I didn’t deny it. There’s no one else in Whirlwind who can possibly marry me.”
He nodded, his gaze fixed on her mouth. From past experience, he knew it fitted his perfectly. Seven years was a long time, but he remembered the sweet warm taste of her and wanted another one.
“If there was any other way— Quentin, stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to…” She shifted uneasily. “You know.”
“Maybe I do.” He had missed her vibrancy, her energy.
She glared at him. “Our marriage doesn’t have to be forever. In fact, I don’t expect it to last very long after I pay Dinah’s tuition. I imagine we’ll have to stay together a short while in order to satisfy Grandfather that this is real.”
If he had anything to say about it, it would be real, but he didn’t say so. “Okay.”
“I hate asking you for this. I hate it.”
“You’ve been plain about that, Zoe,” he said wryly. “And you haven’t asked me anything yet.”
He snagged her hand again, cradling it between both of his.
“This is pure-dee crazy,” she muttered.
“What exactly do you want?”
“You know.”
He did. And he wanted to hear the words.
Swallowing hard, she squeezed her eyes shut as if she couldn’t bear to look at him. “Will you…marry me?” This was crazy, but it was also the chance he’d been waiting for. For years, he’d stared stupid in the mirror and if he refused her, he’d be doing it again. He silently willed her to look at him.
When he said nothing, she opened one eye then the other. “Please?”
Exhilarated, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
True, he hadn’t been thinking about marriage yet, but if this was a way to get close to Zoe, he’d take it.
“Our minds must’ve been traveling along similar lines,” he said. Why else would it have been his name that came up?
She stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Over the last couple of months,
I’ve thought a lot about us.”
“There is no us.” Her eyes narrowed.
He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “It was a mistake to push you away after I lost my sister and my ability to walk.”
“Oh.” Surprise flashed across her features. And pleasure.
Encouraged, he continued, “I want to try again.”
She was shaking her head before he finished his sentence. “Why not?” he demanded. “That’s over.”
He arched a brow. “In light of what we’re discussing, I’d say it isn’t.”
“We’re only marrying to satisfy Grandfather.”
She was. Quentin wasn’t. “Your grandfather isn’t why I said yes.”
She leveled a look on him. “This marriage is strictly a business arrangement.”
“What if I want more?”
“You shouldn’t. I don’t.”
Pain and anger gripped him. Winning her back wouldn’t be easy, but that was okay. “When do you want to do this?”
“The sooner the better,” she replied grimly, glancing at her grandfather. “Do you agree to my terms?”
“For now.”
Her mouth tightened. “Quentin.”
“I want more than a business arrangement.”
“Stop it,” she hissed, looking as panicked as she had when she’d first sought him out.
“I’m not going to lie about it.”
“It’s fine with me if you do,” she muttered.
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. “So, are we still getting married?”
Zoe looked over her shoulder and his gaze followed hers. The smug look on her grandfather’s face said he knew Quentin and Zoe weren’t a couple. He was probably just waiting for her to admit it, but Quentin knew she wouldn’t.
She shifted her attention back to him. “Yes, we’re still getting married.”
“All right, then.”
“I don’t know the first thing about getting a wedding together.”
“We can talk to Annalise,” he suggested. “She’ll be able to help.”
“Okay.” She looked slightly relieved.
“What about two days from now?”
“All right. I’ll tell Grandfather.”
