Rescuing the Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  He stared at the distant outline of the McDowell Mountains, grateful for his recent good fortune. This was a place worth living in and not just because he’d spent the last two-plus years calling a stark concrete cell the size of a closet home.

  Dusk fell, and the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving behind a half moon hovering above Pinnacle Peak. A flock of doves took flight from a nearby paloverde tree and winged their way into the great expanse of the desert. Distant lowing from some of Dos Estrellas’ twelve hundred head of cattle grew softer and less frequent as they settled in for the night.

  Quinn stood in the front courtyard of the Dempsey house. Behind the ranch and a good two miles north lay the town. In this direction, however, the land seemed to extend forever.

  Inside the house, the party continued strong. He’d escaped after dinner and come outside, hoping no one was offended. His need for solitude wasn’t the fault of the guests. They were all nice and cheerfully welcomed him, though some couldn’t hide their curiosity.

  He simply liked being alone and shutting out all the noise until only his own thoughts remained. At times the craving was too powerful to resist, and he gave in.

  That might be the reason he liked and understood Teddy. Sometimes a person didn’t want to be touched or talked to or bothered.

  Quinn thought Summer must also understand Teddy. At least, she tried. She certainly respected his boundaries.

  He compared his own situation to Summer’s, noting the differences. He’d been denied the chance to parent his daughter and longed for contact with her. Summer, however, lived with Teddy but wasn’t allowed to touch him. How hard that must be for her.

  An exterior light came on. The next instant, the front door to the house, a large and ornately engraved oak panel, swung open. Summer stepped outside as if by thinking of her Quinn had made her appear. Teddy, as usual, stood beside her.

  She obviously hadn’t seen Quinn yet and assumed she had the courtyard to herself. He would have relished the chance to observe her unnoticed, except in the next instant Josh’s two young children tumbled outside like a pair of puppies set free after being confined all day.

  Nathan, Josh’s three-year-old son, bounded over to where Quinn sat on the stone bench by the fountain. “Hi, Uncle Quinn. What are you doing?”

  The boy had started calling him “Uncle” without any encouragement. While technically inaccurate, Quinn didn’t mind.

  “Nothing much. What about you?”

  “Daddy says I’m being bad. Too noisy.”

  The boy was followed by his ever-present shadow, his eighteen-month-old sister, Kimberly. She babbled in a baby language Quinn couldn’t translate.

  His throat strangely tightened. His daughter—hell, he didn’t even know her name—was maybe six months younger than Nathan. He didn’t know her exact age, either. Damn. It wasn’t fair. Frustration built before he could contain it.

  “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  Hearing Summer’s voice, he glanced up to see her and Teddy approach.

  “No problem,” Quinn answered. “It’s a beautiful evening. A shame not to enjoy it.”

  “Those two were being a bit rambunctious. I offered to take them outside. Teddy needed a break anyway.”

  Quinn angled his head to better see Teddy. “I know how you feel, pal. Crowds get to me, too.”

  The boy rewarded Quinn by making eye contact for a few seconds.

  “He likes you,” Summer said, a trace of wonder in her voice.

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “Noooo,” Kimberly abruptly cried out, her one understandable word. Frowning, she pushed at Nathan.

  He retaliated by kneeling in front of the fountain, dipping his hand in the tepid water and splashing her. She screamed as if doused with boiling lava.

  Quinn stood. Before he could intervene, Summer did.

  “Hey, you two. Behave.”

  “She hit me,” Nathan objected, scrambling to his feet.

  “You’re bigger and older than her.”

  She attempted to reason with the boy, explaining how it was his job to set a good example for his sister. From the way Nathan stuck out his lower lip, Quinn could see he wasn’t taking the lesson to heart. Beside him, Teddy began humming. Quinn didn’t think it bode well.

  Something he hadn’t thought of in years suddenly popped into his head. Reaching for his wallet, he extracted a dollar bill. Teddy watched Quinn’s every move as he executed a number of intricate folds. Before too long, the bill resembled a swan. A rather crooked swan, mind you. Quinn’s skills were rusty.

  “Here. Take it.” He handed the swan to Teddy.

  After lengthy and careful consideration, Teddy took it.

  “Come on.” Quinn walked to the fountain, motioning to Teddy.

  The boy just stared, his eyes void of expression.

  Quinn pointed to the water. “Swans like to swim.”

  By now, Summer, Nathan and even Kimberly watched in fascination.

  Finally Teddy complied. At the fountain’s edge, he gingerly set the paper swan on the water. It bobbed gently and floated toward the center of the fountain.

  “I want one, too.” Nathan rushed Quinn and hugged his thigh.

  “You have to be good.”

  “I will. I be good.”

  Quinn quickly constructed a second swan. Nathan smashed its tail before launching it in the water. He didn’t appear to mind. Kimberly eagerly squeezed between the boys. Teddy remained rooted to his spot, ignoring both other children.

  Summer sidled up beside Quinn. “Where did you learn to make those?”

  “My sister. She was into origami for a while when we were kids. I can also make an eagle and a ring. Or, I could. Maybe not now.”

  “A man of many talents.”

  He liked the silky quality of her voice and the fluid grace of her movements. “I’d forgotten about it until now.”

  “Memories are funny things. They can be buried for years and surface all at once. Then there are those that are never far away.”

  Quinn had a lot of those kind.

  By unspoken agreement, they moved to the bench, where they could keep the children in sight. It wasn’t a large bench, and only a few inches separated them. Aided by the exterior light that had come on automatically, Quinn saw a tiny jeweled stud in her right ear, appreciated her attractive profile and discerned at least three distinct shades of color in her hair, ranging from blond to gold to red.

  He shouldn’t ask but he did anyway. “Is Teddy’s dad in the picture? I noticed you came to the party alone.”

  “He is.” Summer shrugged. “Barely.”

  “A shame.”

  “I agree. Teddy was three when the doctors officially diagnosed him. By then, our quiet but seemingly happy child had almost completely withdrawn and barely spoke. Hal didn’t take the diagnosis well. Up until then, he hoped whatever was wrong with Teddy was treatable and reversible. We divorced about a year later. He was visiting every few months.” Her voice altered slightly. “He remarried this past winter. Since then, he’s been coming by every couple of weeks. I think his new wife has more to do with it than any sense of responsibility.”

  Quinn chose to keep his opinion of Summer’s ex to himself.

  She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I can’t believe I told you all that. We barely know each other.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers.”

  “Teddy doesn’t seem to notice the lack of a father in his life. Truthfully, he’s been more aware of you in the last fifteen minutes than of Hal in the past year.” She stared into the distance.

  Quinn wondered if she saw the same beauty and majesty he had earlier or if she took it for granted. He liked to think the former. Summer struck him
as a sensitive person.

  She cleared her throat. “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “I was wrong earlier. You should accept the job. You’ll be wonderful. With the horses and the children.”

  “You have good reason to be worried. I spent over two years in prison.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

  “To have doubts, then.”

  She glanced at the children. Teddy continued to focus on the paper swans, now becoming waterlogged. The younger two had abandoned the fountain to play with a tennis ball they’d found in a bush.

  “Josh and Cole told me you’re innocent. That new evidence cleared you.”

  “I didn’t hurt the guy. But we did get into an altercation that night in the bar. There was some shoving. Shouting. Threats. I’d like to say he had it coming. Truthfully, I’ve had...problems with my temper in the past. Still do.”

  “You’re kidding. You strike me as pretty laid-back.”

  “Ah. Well, I work on it. Constantly. Prison’s good for changing a person’s perspective. Maybe the only thing it’s good for.”

  “You didn’t let it destroy you, Quinn. That’s what’s important.”

  She was wrong. Prison had destroyed a part of him he could never get back. The part that had fearlessly faced life.

  “The guy was a jerk.” Quinn had called him far worse names when not in earshot of kids.

  “What did he do that made you angry?” she asked. “Besides being a jerk. Hit on your girlfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  She drew back. “I wasn’t serious.”

  “He insulted her. And when I say insult, I’m being generous. We’d both had a lot to drink. The difference was, I’d just come off a big win while he’d lost. My friends separated us and got me out of the bar, then took me to my truck. The guy left the bar a while later and was assaulted in the parking lot. He nearly died from a brain hemorrhage and was in a coma for weeks. When he finally regained consciousness, he identified me as his assailant even though the attack happened so fast he didn’t see the guy’s face.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “A blue shirt. I was wearing one. And apparently his assailant was, too.”

  “Are you saying you were arrested and convicted based on the fact you were wearing a blue shirt? I don’t believe it.”

  “More than a dozen people witnessed our argument in the bar.”

  “But not the attack. Didn’t you have an alibi? What about your friends? Your girlfriend? Surely they vouched for you.”

  “They couldn’t. After they left me at my truck, they went home or back to their hotel rooms, including Jenny. She was mad. She’d grown pretty tired of me by that point. I crawled into the backseat and went to sleep. No one saw me until the next morning.”

  “What about security cameras? Weren’t there any?”

  “Only one and it had been broken for months. The bar owner hadn’t gotten around to fixing it.”

  She shook her head. “This sounds like a bad TV show.”

  “My guilt was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt in the minds of the jurors.”

  “Doesn’t that make you mad?”

  “Yes, it did. Really mad. I had a lot of trouble controlling my rage the first six months in prison. Counseling helped. Now that I’m out, I try not to dwell on the past. It doesn’t do any good.”

  “What happened? How were you exonerated?” Summer leaned in.

  Quinn did, too, finding her proximity impossible to resist. “DNA evidence. None of mine was at the scene, which didn’t make a difference to the jurors. But there was blood not belonging to me or the guy on his clothing. He must have gotten in a swing at some point. Problem was no match was found in the federal DNA database. Six months ago, I caught a break when the real assailant was arrested for another unrelated assault. This time, the victim was his wife.”

  Summer gasped.

  “She told the police her husband had a history of violence and was involved in several bar fights. The police were able to match his DNA to the sample from the guy’s shirt. It took a while, but I was cleared and the right man put in prison.”

  “I’m really glad, Quinn.”

  “Yeah.” He blew out a long breath. Did she have to look at him so earnestly and with such compassion? “There’s more.” He hesitated. “I have a daughter.”

  “You do?” She brightened. “Where does she live? How old is she? Is she going to visit?”

  He smiled. Next to kids, she more than anyone could coax one out of him. “I don’t have the answer to any of those questions. I’ve never seen her. I only just found out about her. A friend of Jenny’s told me after I got released. She thought I should know.”

  “Jenny hid your daughter from you?”

  “I don’t blame her. I’m a convict.”

  “Was. The girl is your daughter. You have rights.”

  “I’ve been trying to find them. I even hired a private investigator.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not yet. I need this job. PIs aren’t cheap.”

  Summer looked stricken. “Now I’m even sorrier about earlier.”

  “Don’t sweat it.”

  She surprised him by saying, “I might be able to help you.”

  “You can?” He didn’t see how.

  “I work part-time for an attorney in Scottsdale. He specializes in family law. We occasionally have to track down errant spouses, some of whom have taken their children.”

  “I can’t afford an attorney, either.” Quinn had already gone that route.

  “He might talk to you pro bono. Offer some free advice. Let me ask,” she said when he hesitated. “What harm can it do? You may be able to receive compensation from the state.”

  “Sue them?”

  “You were falsely imprisoned. They may offer a settlement. In fact, I’m surprised they didn’t already. It’s worth checking into.”

  Pride and hope waged a battle inside Quinn. He didn’t like taking handouts. Then again, he’d be a fool to refuse help and possibly money when he desperately needed both. “Okay.”

  By some miracle, Nathan and Kimberly continued to play without fighting. Teddy stayed put by the fountain, absorbed in his own world.

  Feeling Summer’s warm hand on his arm, Quinn turned.

  “I’m glad you told me about everything,” she said. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

  She looked directly at him with those enormous hazel eyes, and Quinn felt a small crack form in the shield protecting his damaged heart. He stood before the crack had a chance to widen.

  “We should probably get back to the party.” He went over and collected his niece and nephew, ignoring the confusion clouding Summer’s features.

  She was exactly the kind of woman he could fall for. Unfortunately, he was exactly the kind of man she should avoid at all costs. If she didn’t realize it, he certainly did and would avoid any involvement for both their sakes.

  * * *

  THERE WERE CURRENTLY six therapy-program horses being housed in the row of covered stalls behind the horse stables, all of them rehabilitated mustangs from the sanctuary Cara ran. In addition to the stalls, the program had also built the small riding arena where Quinn met Lizzie.

  The nearby corral was sometimes reserved for private lessons when a more confined area was needed. On most days, Cole used it to train horses. With two hundred wild mustangs to rehabilitate and adopt out, training had quickly become his specialty and main job at the ranch. Quinn was lucky to find the corral empty.

  Deciding to familiarize himself with his new charges, he led all six horses from their stalls to the corral. Normally, controlling this many horses at one time was difficult. But the well-trained and quiet-natured group obediently
followed behind the mare Quinn held by a lead rope. At the corral, the horses stood and waited until he opened the gate.

  Unhooking the rope, he clucked to the mare and patted her chunky hind end. The other five horses followed through the gate, needing very little encouragement from Quinn. Once inside, they came to a stop and either nosed the ground or stood at the corral railing, snorting and swishing their tails.

  Two days working for the therapy program and Quinn had already learned a lot about the ins and outs. This time of year, because of the warm temperatures, students scheduled their lessons either early in the morning, finishing by nine, or in the evenings, starting at six thirty when it was less hot.

  Just last week, a floodlight had been installed to aid the evening lessons. While the remainder of Dos Estrellas Ranch rested after a long day, the therapy program operated in full force. None of the Dempseys were there, with the occasional exception of Josh, who showed up because of Cara. Mostly, he stayed home to watch the kids.

  He’d been there last night when Quinn arrived to observe the class, joining Cara while she advised Quinn on how the program worked. There’d been five students, two instructors, three volunteer helpers, one administrator, and five sets of parents. Summer and Teddy weren’t among those gathered. Quinn admittedly looked for them despite his vow to keep his distance.

  During the lesson, he’d made a point of observing the horses in action with the students and the program staff. Today he wanted to see how the horses acted without riders and a small crowd distracting them. He was specifically interested in any personality quirks that might interfere with performance or abilities being overlooked and underutilized.

  He put the horses through their paces, getting them to trot and lope in a circle by swinging a lead rope in a circle over his head. The chunky brown mare named Mama was undeniably in charge. She might be a lamb when Lizzie or the other kids rode her but as far as preserving order among this small herd, Mama was a force to be reckoned with.

  Within ten minutes, Quinn had made a number of important discoveries. Pancake and George Clooney didn’t like to be separated and stuck together unless forced apart. Stargazer refused to lead with her left—though that might not be a problem as the students never loped the horses. Chubbs became agitated when approached from behind. Gidget’s one flaw was a choppy gait. Then again, her rider last night had laughed when rocked from side to side.