by Pamela Bauer
“And they’re here?” She wondered if they were the “small legal matter” he needed to clear up.
“Just for a couple of days,” Krystal told her. “I’ll let Quinn tell you about it. You’re going to come downstairs, aren’t you?”
Dena had hoped that the first time she saw Quinn again it would be in private, not in Leonie’s kitchen with four other people present. But she didn’t want to wait to see him alone so she said, “I need to change first.”
“That’s all right. I came up to get some shampoo samples for Sara—she’s the twelve-year-old. You can imagine how difficult it must be for those poor kids to think straight about anything. It’ll just take me a minute to grab the shampoo. You want me to wait for you?”
“If you don’t mind?” For some reason, the thought of having Krystal at her side when she walked into the kitchen was an appealing one.
“I don’t mind. You scoot.” She shooed her with her hands. “Make yourself pretty for Quinn.”
“I didn’t say I needed to make myself pretty,” Dena protested.
“You didn’t have to. I see the look that comes into your eyes whenever someone mentions his name.” She grinned cheekily.
Dena didn’t say a word but went in to change clothes. When she emerged a short time later she wore a fresh coat of lipstick and her hair hung loose around her shoulders.
Krystal pointed to her head and smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”
Dena followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen where Quinn sat at the table, a dark-haired girl to his left and a blond boy on his right. When he saw Dena, he got to his feet. At first she thought he was going to come over and pull her into his arms. He had the same look in his eyes that he’d had on other occasions when he’d done exactly that. But he didn’t even take her hand. He simply said hello and pulled out a chair so she could join them.
He introduced her to the children, who greeted her with a politeness that was very different from the boisterous welcome she usually got from her niece and nephews. There was no mistaking the sadness on their faces, and Dena searched for the right words to express her sympathy, wondering what could she possibly say that could make them feel better.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” she finally said.
The boy, Kevin, began to sob. The girl only sat staring straight ahead, as if she didn’t dare acknowledge the words of sympathy. Dena felt awful, wishing she hadn’t said anything.
Quinn wrapped an arm around the boy and pulled him closer. Dena met his eyes with a helplessness. “I’m sorry.”
Leonie, who was getting beverages from the refrigerator, came over to place a hand of understanding on Dena’s shoulder. “I just made some lemonade for Sara and Kevin. Would you like some?”
What Dena wanted was to run back upstairs to her room. She felt out of place, a sentiment that Krystal obviously didn’t share. She gave Sara the shampoo and was carrying on a conversation with her as if they were old friends. The eyes that had looked at Dena with indifference softened when they were turned on the stylist.
“How old are you, Kevin?” Dena asked the boy when he’d swiped away his tears and straightened in his chair.
“Seven,” he said on a hiccup.
Being that Bethany was eight and in the second grade, she said, “You must be in the first grade.”
“Second,” he corrected her.
“My niece is in the second grade. Is this your first time in Minnesota?” she asked.
He nodded and added, “I don’t like it here. It’s cold and brown.”
“That’s because it’s early in the spring,” Quinn interjected. “In a couple of weeks the grass will have greened up and the leaves will be on the trees.”
“We’re not going to be here in a couple of weeks,” Sara said sullenly, folding her arms across her chest.
“While you are here you’ll want to wear jackets,” Leonie said in a comforting tone, taking a seat at the table. “It’s easy to catch a chill this time of year.”
“I could take them shopping,” Krystal offered, and for the first time, Dena noticed a spark of interest on Sara’s face.
“Thanks, Krystal, but I’ll need to pick up a few things so I might as well take them,” Quinn told her.
“Okay, but if you change your mind and decide you want help, let me know. I’m not working tomorrow.”
Talk turned to the practical as they discussed sleeping arrangements and meal times. When Leonie suggested that Sara use Jason’s room, the twelve-year-old simply shrugged and said in a monotone voice, “I don’t care. I’m not going to be here that long.”
Dena didn’t miss the look that passed between Leonie and Quinn.
“Leonie, didn’t you say that you have a roll-away we could borrow?” he asked.
“Yes. I keep it for a spare bed when company comes,” she answered. “You’re welcome to use it upstairs.”
“I think I will. This way Sara can use it in the living room and Kevin can bunk in with me. My bed sleeps two easily.”
Dena knew only too well how big his bed was and hoped her face wouldn’t give her away. She took a drink of her lemonade and avoided looking in Quinn’s direction.
“Why doesn’t Sara stay with me?” Krystal suggested. “It would be more fun for her to be in a girl’s room than with the guys. She can sleep on my futon.”
Dena didn’t think Sara looked any more eager to sleep on Krystal’s futon than she did in Leonie’s spare bedroom or on the roll-away in Quinn’s living room. Actually, the girl looked as if she wished she could disappear. Dena knew the feeling well and empathized with her.
Sara shrugged and said moodily, “It doesn’t matter.”
It was clear from her tone that she didn’t want to stay any longer than was necessary. “I think it would be best if the kids were with me,” Quinn spoke up. “Leonie, why don’t you show me where that roll-away is and I’ll carry it upstairs?”
As he rose to his feet, Kevin, too, got up. It was obvious he wasn’t going to let Quinn go anywhere without him. Sara, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle but sat slumped in the chair, her arms folded across her chest.
“This has to be really hard for you,” Krystal said when the others had gone. “We moved a lot when we were kids, and I always hated it when I had to sleep in a strange place.”
“We’re not moving,” the girl said with a hint of defiance.
Krystal wasn’t about to give up. She reached for the young girl’s arm. “I like your bracelet. Does it have special meaning?”
Dena noticed the leather twined around her wrist.
Sara’s face softened a bit. “It’s a friendship bracelet.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Alicia.”
“Is she a school friend or someone from your neighborhood?”
“Both. She lives on the same street. I could have stayed with her instead of coming here, but Quinn wouldn’t let me.” Her statement revealed the reason for her sullen behavior. She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends to go stay with a stranger.
“He’s a good guy, Sara. He’ll do whatever he can to get things straightened out. You’ll see,” Krystal said with confidence.
Sara wasn’t convinced. She returned to her pose, which Dena thought was more of a slouching pout than a stab at defiance.
Krystal managed to get the girl talking about her favorite rock groups and what kind of TV programs and movies she liked to watch. Dena contributed little, again envying Krystal her ability to always put people at ease. By the time Quinn returned, Sara’s posture was not quite so slouched and she looked a little less sullen.
“Sara, Kevin and I are going upstairs now. Do you want to come along or would you rather stay down here?” he asked. “Leonie said you can watch TV in the great room if you like.”
“I’ll go upstairs,” she answered, shoving away from the table.
“Take Kevin and I’ll be right there,” Quinn said, giving the boy a gentle nudge t
oward his sister. “I need to talk to Dena for a few minutes.”
“Maybe they want to pick out a couple of movies to watch,” Leonie suggested.
“I’ll help them,” Krystal said, jumping to her feet.
“Do you want to do that, Kevin?” Quinn asked the boy, since Sara was not inclined to give him an answer.
The seven-year-old turned woeful eyes on his temporary guardian. “Will you come with me?”
Quinn placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll tell you what. You go with Krystal and I’ll be there in just a few minutes, okay?”
With her usual warmth, Krystal drew the little boy close to her, then motioned for Sara. “Wait until you see all the movies Leonie has. I’m sure we can find one you’ll want to see.”
Dena thought the girl might refuse to go, but then she got to her feet, the same look on her face.
“I’m going to get you some clean linens for that bed,” Leonie said, then followed the others out of the room, leaving Quinn and Dena alone.
He wasted no time pulling her into his arms. He didn’t kiss her, but simply held her close. “This wasn’t how I expected my homecoming to be…standing in Leonie’s kitchen, stealing a quick hug,” he murmured close to her ear.
She loved the feel of his solid torso, the strength of his arms. “I’m so sorry about your friends.” She looked into his eyes, and instead of seeing the usual flicker of desire, she saw pain. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, knowing that there really wasn’t a single thing she could do or say that would erase that sadness.
He released her and ran a hand over his hair. “It’s been a nightmare. Thirty-two is too young to die, Dena,” he stated quietly.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“They hardly ever went anywhere without the kids. Apparently he had to go to Florida on business and decided to take Patsy with him. They would have taken the kids except they were in school.”
“You said it was a plane crash.”
He nodded. “They were killed instantly. It’s hard enough for me to cope with their deaths—I can only imagine what it must be like for those two.” He nodded toward the doorway.
“Is there family somewhere who can help them?”
“There are a couple of elderly aunts on Patsy’s side and a few distant cousins. Doug has a sister, but she just had some kind of surgery and couldn’t even come to South Carolina for the funeral. Doug and Patsy named me as guardian in their will, I guess because I’m Sara’s godfather.”
She squeezed his hand. “They trusted you.”
The look on his face said he didn’t understand why. “I didn’t want to take them out of school and bring them back here, yet what choice did I have?”
“You did the right thing,” she said, rubbing his arm consolingly.
“They’re so frightened,” he said, shaking his head.
“Anyone would be, in their shoes. Everything will be okay.” She tried to comfort him.
“It will be once I get those two settled. Doug and his sister were never close, but she’s willing to take the kids as long as she can find someone to help out until she’s back on her feet.” He studied her face, then traced her cheek with his fingers. “It must have been a shock for you to walk in here and see the kids.”
“Krystal told me about them before I came downstairs,” she confessed.
“They might cramp our style for a few days,” he warned.
“There’ll be other days for us to be together.”
The sound of voices in the hallway alerted them to the children’s return. Quinn reluctantly moved away from her. “We’ll talk later. I need to get the kids to bed.”
She nodded, then watched him walk away with Sara and Kevin, wishing she didn’t have the feeling that their relationship was about to be tested in a way they’d never expected.
IT WASN’T THE HOMECOMING Quinn had planned. Instead of having Dena’s soft, curvy body next to his in bed, he was lying beside a seven-year-old boy wearing flannel Spiderman pajamas. Quinn glanced at the young boy as he slept. It was the only time during the past week or so that he’d seen any peace on that innocent face.
He preferred the sleeping Kevin to the awake one. Asleep he didn’t look so much like his father, and Quinn didn’t have to look into eyes full of sadness. Nor did he have to notice how Kevin glanced sideways at him in the very same way Doug had slanted him looks. Kevin was every bit Doug’s son, from the blond hair and blue eyes to the small dimple in his chin.
Pain rifled through Quinn at the memory of his friend. They’d been the best of buddies during their college days. Teammates. Roommates.
Memories haunted Quinn as he lay awake. The three of them sitting around Patsy’s tiny table in her efficiency apartment while she tutored them in English lit. The party they’d attended when the hockey team had clinched a spot in the Frozen Four tournament. The hurry-up wedding at the justice of the peace with Patsy crying and Doug looking more nervous than Quinn had ever seen him.
They’d been such close friends during those college days. Once Quinn turned pro, everything had changed. He never sensed that it had bothered Doug that he’d jumped to the NHL, but he wasn’t so sure about Patsy. She’d never treated Quinn the same after he’d announced his decision to enter the draft. And once he’d actually quit college, they’d gradually drifted apart.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. Doug and Patsy were parents, trying to balance college life with marriage, while Quinn was fighting for survival in the NHL as a rookie. While they struggled with diapers and day care, he fought for a starting position on his new team, determined to have a spectacular debut in the professional world of hockey.
From that point on, their lives went in very different directions. Doug and Patsy finished college, then moved to South Carolina, where he took a job managing a restaurant. Quinn bounced from team to team, never settling in one place long enough to call it home. When they did manage to find time to see each other, things were never quite the same. Those college days were gone, although never forgotten by Doug and Quinn.
When Quinn did finally fall asleep, it was only to be troubled by dreams of the past. The next morning he felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. Quietly he slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb Kevin.
He stepped out of his bedroom and was immediately reminded that he wasn’t alone. Sara lay on the roll-away, curled into a ball, her face turned into the pillow. Quinn tiptoed past, reaching for his cell phone from the kitchen counter, then went into the bathroom and closed the door.
He needed to check with Doug’s attorney and see if any progress had been made in finding the necessary help for Doug’s sister. He punched in the numbers. As he waited for someone to answer, he glanced in the mirror and grimaced. Between the bags under his eyes and the dark stubble on his chin, he didn’t have a look that would inspire confidence in any kid.
He’d shave as soon as he finished talking to the lawyer. At least that was the plan until he heard a fist pounding on the door.
“Quinn, I gotta go to the bathroom…bad,” Kevin mumbled in a small voice.
He opened the door and motioned for the kid to enter while he slipped quietly back into his bedroom. A secretary at the law firm informed him that Doug’s attorney wouldn’t be available until after four. Quinn asked several questions, but she was unable to give him any answers. He decided he might as well leave a message and hung up.
As he ended the call, he turned to see Kevin standing in the doorway. “Hey, buddy. You still tired? Want to climb back into bed?”
He shook his head. “I want to go home.” His lower lip trembled and he began to cry.
Quinn lifted him up into his arms and sat down with him on the bed. “I’m sorry, Kevin, but you can’t go home just yet.”
“When will we be able to go?” he asked on a sob.
“I’m not sure. Look.” He reached for the remote at the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you watch TV for a few minutes while I make another phone call and try
to get an answer for you?”
The cartoon characters that popped onto the TV screen were enough of a distraction for the boy that Quinn was able to leave the room. He was about to go back into the bathroom to call Doug’s sister when he noticed the door was shut. A glance at the roll-away told him Sara had beat him to it.
With one eye on the bathroom door, he stood in the far corner of the living room, dialing the number the attorney had given him.
When a woman’s voice answered with, “Roberta Grant,” he said, “This is Quinn Sterling.”
“How are the children?”
The voice sounded frail and weak. Quinn replied, “They’re okay. Unsettled, but okay.”
“It must be so difficult for them. It just breaks my heart to think of them without Doug and Patsy.” He heard a sniffle, then she said, “I wish they were here with me right now so I could comfort them.”
“It will be good for them to be with you—with family. Were you able to make arrangements to get someone to assist you with their care?”
“I wish I could say yes, but you see I had a bit of setback yesterday and I found out I need another surgery on my back. I’m not going to be able to take Kevin and Sara until it heals.”
Quinn felt as if someone had just knocked the air out of him.
When he didn’t say anything, she said, “Between my hospital stay and my rehabilitation, I won’t be in any condition to take care of two children. You do understand, don’t you?”
He wanted to say no, he didn’t understand at all. What was he supposed to do with two frightened, lonesome kids who didn’t want to be around him? He was a temporary guardian who knew nothing about the needs of a seven-and a twelve-year-old.
“Quinn?”
He sighed. “I’m still here.” He raked a hand over his head. “When do you think you will be able to take the kids?”
“The doctor said I’m going to be off my feet for six to eight weeks. I’m sorry. I know this complicates things for you, and it breaks my heart not to be able to help my niece and nephew right now.”
Six to eight weeks. It was already the end of April. That meant he’d have the children until the middle of June, maybe even the end of June.
