Rescuing the Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  In the end, he’d simply said “Quinn,” which Corrine had repeated several times.

  “Look.” She lifted her straw out of her orange juice and blew it at Quinn, spraying him with droplets.

  “That’s enough, Corrine,” Jenny scolded.

  “It’s all right.” Quinn didn’t mind and even chuckled.

  “She shouldn’t be allowed to get away with bad behavior.”

  “Okay.”

  Would Corrine be spitting orange juice droplets on people when she was twenty? Hardly. He winked at her when Jenny’s head was turned. Corrine melted his heart by trying to wink back at him and only succeeding in squinting both eyes.

  “You think I’m overreacting,” Jenny said, tension creeping into her voice.

  “I don’t. But I should warn you, I’ll overindulge her at first and maybe for a while. I can’t help it.”

  “Fine.” Her lips thinned.

  “It was just some orange juice.”

  “Let’s not argue, Quinn.”

  “Quinn!” Corrine echoed and grinned up at him.

  “That’s right.” He touched his index finger to the tip of her nose and earned a giggle for his efforts. After a moment, when she was again distracted, he asked Jenny, “When do you think I might be able to see her next?”

  Marty had wanted him to test the waters about visitation. Probably not the best time to bring it up, except Jenny and Corrine were leaving soon.

  “About that—”

  “I want eggs,” Corrine suddenly demanded.

  “Sure.” Quinn started to signal the waitress.

  “She can have eggs when she finishes her waffle,” Jenny said with a firmness that let him know the topic wasn’t open for debate.

  “Want eggs,” Corrine insisted, her mouth pursed in a stubborn frown.

  Quinn thought he saw in his daughter a bit of the same temper he struggled with on a daily basis. She would have to inherit that quality from him, too.

  “You finish your waffle—” he tugged on one of her brown curls “—and I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the truck.”

  “Yay!” Corrine threw her arms up into the air, her fork slipping from her fingers and landing with a clatter on the table.

  “Corrine!” Jenny admonished. “Settle down.”

  Quinn bit his tongue. He refused to ruin this last hour with his daughter by fighting with Jenny.

  An elderly couple passed their table on their way out. The woman gave the three of them a fond smile and a friendly hello. “What a beautiful child.”

  “We’re very lucky,” Jenny answered.

  The couple continued on, the woman obviously mistaking them for a family. It was an easy enough assumption to make, and Quinn supposed they were a family, if a little unusual.

  He shifted uncomfortably. Thinking of him, Corrine and Jenny together made him feel disloyal to Summer. When he was with her and Teddy, he also felt as if they were a family.

  “About my next visit with Corrine,” he started.

  Jenny sipped her coffee. “I was thinking we could begin slowly.”

  “How slow?” Quinn cautioned himself to remain calm and not get upset before there was a valid reason.

  “Here, baby.” Jenny pushed the crayons and printed sheet the waitress had left at Corrine and waited for her to start coloring. “What if I bring her to California in a couple months to meet your parents?”

  He sat back. “My parents?”

  “Don’t they want to meet her?”

  “Um, very much. More than you can imagine. I just...”

  “Didn’t think I’d cooperate?” She raised her brows.

  “Please don’t jump to conclusions. I really had no idea what to expect.”

  “I’m not,” she assured him. “I’ve actually thought a lot about this. To be honest, this weekend has gone better than I anticipated. And Corrine has really taken to you.”

  He grinned at his busily scribbling daughter. “It’s mutual.”

  “I always did like your parents and, as it turns out, I’m taking a week off work in mid-October. In part to use up some extra vacation days before the end of the year and to celebrate Corrine’s birthday. If you and your parents are willing, Corrine and I could meet you in Bishop. We can drive there in one day.”

  “One long day.”

  The trip had to be at least fifteen or sixteen hours and was eighteen or more hours for him. Then again, Bishop was a sensible halfway point.

  “Would you mind if Andy came with us?” Jenny asked. “He’s already scheduled the time off.”

  Ah. The boyfriend. How close were he and Corrine? What did she call him?

  Quinn didn’t like the idea of his daughter spending all day on a road trip with Andy. But if he raised objections and Jenny retaliated by withdrawing her offer, then his parents would miss the opportunity to meet their granddaughter. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “Can Corrine stay a couple nights with my folks?”

  “Without me?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “I’ll be there, of course.”

  Jenny considered for a moment. “Okay. Your parents are trustworthy.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “That isn’t what I meant.”

  He thought it was, despite her protests. “What about you and Andy? Where will you two stay?”

  “In a hotel.”

  It was Quinn’s turn to consider. “I’d like to tell Corrine that I’m her—”

  “Don’t say it,” Jenny hissed.

  “It’s important to me that she knows.”

  “More than a visit with your parents?”

  Quinn gazed at Corrine, who was coloring outside the lines. She seemed to have lost interest in having eggs or even finishing her waffle.

  “You’re going to make me choose?” he asked.

  “She’s too young to understand.”

  “Maybe at first. She will eventually.”

  Jenny stared out the window beside them for a full minute before saying, “What if we compromise? You give me the next two months to prepare Corrine and then we tell her together during the visit to your parents.”

  He nodded. “I can live with that.”

  “By then, perhaps, we’ll have reached an agreement.”

  “I should also know more on my suit against the state.”

  “Are you still willing to relocate?”

  Quinn hesitated. Prior to last night, he’d have answered yes. Now Summer factored into any decision he made, even though they hadn’t yet defined their relationship.

  “For the time being, I’m staying here. At least until my legal struggles are resolved.”

  “What about Summer?”

  Was he that transparent?

  Quinn’s instincts continued to tell him the less said about Summer the better. “We’re just friends.”

  “Come on.” Jenny studied him from her side of the booth. “I saw the way you looked at her. You used to look at me like that.”

  “I’m not in a position to date. I have a lot on my plate.”

  “You’re really going to play dumb?” She might have said more, but her phone suddenly beeped from its place beside her plate. She picked up the phone and read the text message, then muttered a sound of distress.

  “What is it?” Quinn asked.

  “A message alert. Our flight’s been delayed.” She read more, then groaned. “That’s what I get for flying one of those discount airlines.” She groaned again. “Excuse me. I need to call them.”

  Quinn took the opportunity while Jenny was occupied to play with Corrine. He made her a swan out of a dollar bill, similar to the one he’d made for his niece and nephew at the welcome party his cousins had given him. She w
as completely enthralled with the swan and named it Gertie. The purple pony had been dubbed Lilac.

  “Well, this sucks.” Jenny pressed her fingers to her forehead. “We either take our chances and hang out at the airport, or they book us on a later flight that doesn’t go out until nine tonight. Nine!” she repeated with obvious irritation.

  “Can you get a refund and take a different airline?”

  “I used credit card miles. No flexibility.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Corrine isn’t used to staying up that late. I don’t want her crying the whole flight. The other passengers will hate us.”

  “You could always stay another day,” Quinn suggested.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “Your employer won’t understand?”

  “We have a big sales meeting, and I promised my boss I’d be there.” She shrugged. “I told the airlines to book us on the nine o’clock flight. But I’m not hanging around the airport for hours with a small child.”

  “Will you go back to your parents’?”

  “I would, except they weren’t expecting us to still be here and are going to a friend’s pool party. I suppose I could call them.”

  Quinn tried to contain his excitement. “We could always pass the time at the ranch. There’s plenty to do.”

  “Corrine will need a nap.”

  “She can sleep in my apartment. On the couch,” he said when Jenny gave him a look.

  She wavered.

  Honestly, Quinn expected her to decline and insist on spending more time with her parents. Instead, she both threw him for a loop and made his day by answering, “All right.”

  Chapter Ten

  Quinn stared at the sky. According to Summer, cloud cover in August wasn’t rare. The temperature dropping to the midnineties? Now that, apparently, was something to celebrate. As a result, activity at the ranch was greater than usual for a Sunday afternoon.

  Along with several of the hands having an informal calf roping contest, led by Quinn’s cousin Cole, friends were finishing the reception cleanup and therapy program students visited the horses. They weren’t allowed to ride—only during scheduled lessons—but they did pet and play with the horses and give them treats such as carrots and apples. Cara approved, encouraging any interaction that benefitted the students as long as there was a responsible adult to supervise.

  At the moment, Quinn was working with the buckskin mare he’d taken from the mustang sanctuary. Jenny and Corrine had gone up to the apartment a while ago and were attempting to rest. It had taken a walk in the community park across from the café and playing with Nathan and Kimberly on the swing set for an hour to finally tire Corrine out.

  Quinn had at first worried that his apartment wouldn’t meet Jenny’s meticulous standards. He remembered her as being fussy when they’d dated. Rather, she declared it cute and had settled with Corrine on the couch, rubbing her back and singing her a song. Quinn had quietly left after showing Jenny how to operate the TV remote.

  “Easy, girl,” he said to the mare as he ran his hand down her leg, squeezing the long tendon in an attempt to coax her into lifting her foot.

  They stood in the shade of the horse stables where Quinn had momentarily stopped. He’d strapped a saddle pad to her back, step one in breaking her to ride. She didn’t seem to mind the saddle pad, which was encouraging. They still had a long way to go, and Quinn was glad he’d be around to see the training through.

  Sooner or later, he should give the buckskin a name but, so far, he’d drawn a blank. She deserved something more original than Fancy or Lady.

  Feeling his phone vibrate before he heard the ring, he straightened. The number on the display wasn’t a familiar one, and he almost let the call go to voice mail.

  “Hello.”

  “Quinn Crenshaw?”

  “Yes.” He started walking the mare again, more to vent his nervous energy than because she needed the exercise. For some reason, the call put him on edge.

  “This is Morgan Tedrowe, assistant warden of the prison in Florence.”

  Now Quinn knew the source of his unease. Must have been his instincts kicking in. No call from a prison warden could be good.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “Sorry to call on a Sunday afternoon. I won’t be in the office tomorrow, and this can’t wait.”

  Not exactly an answer to his question. Quinn’s grip on the lead rope tightened until the rough, scratchy rope cut into his palm.

  “Your number was given to me by Warden Harrison.” He referenced the senior warden at the prison in California where Quinn had been serving his sentence before his release. “For several months now I’ve been looking for a former inmate with specific qualifications, and he responded to my query, recommending you. After reviewing your history, I tend to agree with his assessment.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. Does this have to do with my—” Quinn started to say exoneration and suit against the state only to stop himself. Better not tip his hand by revealing too much.

  “I apologize. I should have told you from the start.” He cleared his throat. “We’re expanding our inmate work release program, a goal of mine this past year. Would you be available Wednesday or Thursday to meet and talk?”

  “Meet? Why?” Quinn was through beating around the bush, and his abrupt manner no doubt reflected as much. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

  “A possible partnership. Allow me to explain,” Tedrowe continued when Quinn said nothing. “We already work with a cattle ranch in the Apache Junction area. In exchange for free labor, the ranch provides thoroughly vetted and low-security-risk inmates the opportunity to shave time off their sentences, learn new job skills and reintegrate to civilian life. I won’t lie—it also relieves some of the burden on the prison system by reducing costs and freeing up space.”

  “I’m still confused.”

  “Perhaps you’ve heard of similar programs,” Tedrowe congenially suggested. “Besides the Apache Junction ranch, we have two Hotshot firefighting teams with the Forest Service.”

  “Heard of them, yes. But I personally didn’t participate in any programs. What reason would you and I have to meet?”

  “We—I—happen to think Dos Estrellas would be an excellent ranch where we could start a second program.”

  “Isn’t Mustang Valley far from Florence?”

  “An hour each way.”

  “Look, I’m just an employee here,” Quinn insisted. “I have no say in the operations.”

  “Aren’t two of the owners your cousins?” Tedrowe had obviously done his homework. “You could talk to them on our behalf.”

  “Not about this.”

  “May I ask what your reservations are?”

  “I don’t think my family will want inmate laborers at the ranch.” Quinn was thinking not only his niece and nephew but students, as well. Their parents were already uneasy about him, and he was innocent. The prisoners in Tedrowe’s program weren’t. “The ranch has an equine therapy program for special-needs children.”

  “We’re aware of that and can assure you the prisoners would never be there during the sessions.”

  “It’s a lot of responsibility,” Quinn said.

  “The state would provide liability insurance.”

  “Too many things could go wrong.”

  “Which is why I’d like to meet with you and your cousins. Explain all the details. This is a worthwhile program. You must see that.”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Tedrowe didn’t discourage easily. “The only way this program can succeed is by having an individual in place acting as liaison between the ranch and the prisoners. We’d like you to be that individual. Because of your history, the prisoners will respect you and you’ll
relate to them in a way even the most seasoned and trained professional can’t.”

  “Sir—”

  “The position comes with a salary.” He cited an amount. “It’s negotiable.”

  Quinn pulled up short, the buckskin bumping into him. For someone else, the amount wasn’t outrageously high. For Quinn, it represented more than he could possibly expect to earn, at least until his record was cleared.

  Did Tedrowe know Quinn was fighting for shared custody of his daughter and using money as incentive to win him over? Maybe. Maybe not. Jobs were hard to come by for ex-cons. He might be counting on that reality to sway Quinn.

  “I have to think about it.”

  Tedrowe continued to pressure Quinn. “Can we set up the meeting for Thursday afternoon? Say, two o’clock? You or your cousins can call me before then with any questions.”

  “How about I think on this for a while and call you?”

  Quinn might bounce the proposition off Josh and get his cousin’s feedback, especially where Cara and the students were concerned. He doubted she’d agree. On the other hand, there was all that free labor. For a ranch that had recently recovered from near financial disaster, the proposal was worth considering.

  “Fine,” Tedrowe conceded.

  Quinn could tell the assistant warden had really wanted to set that appointment and was disappointed he hadn’t. After discussing a few more details, and Tedrowe making one last bid for a Thursday appointment, they disconnected. Quinn pocketed his phone and headed to the row of outdoor stalls behind the stables.

  The buckskin’s stall happened to be next to those of the therapy program horses. Two families were there with their kids, along with Summer and Teddy. Quinn had been hoping to run into her, and his heart soared.

  She and Teddy were facing away from him and intent on petting Stargazer. She probably assumed he was with Corrine and Jenny, driving them to the airport. That gave Quinn a chance to study Summer without her being aware of it, and he took full advantage, quickly putting the buckskin away and then leaning against the top railing.

  She’d changed into a green dress with skinny straps holding it up. Not that the dress was immodest—she took care in how she dressed around Teddy—but it showed enough leg below the hem and enough bare shoulders to fuel Quinn’s every fantasy. He’d thoroughly enjoyed running his palm along her shoulders last night in bed and entwining his legs with her trim, shapely ones beneath the sheet covering them.