The Winter Man

by Diana Palmer

  “I’ll book a room for you,” Quinn said.

  “Make it a suite,” Hank replied, “and if you need anything, you know, anything, you just tell us.”

  “I’ve got plenty of cigarettes and the coffee machine’s working. I’m fine.”

  “We’ll see you when we get there. And Sutton—thanks. She really cares about you, you know?”

  “I care about her,” he said stiffly. “That’s why I sent her away. My God, how could she give all that up to live on a mountain in Wyoming?”

  “Amanda’s not a city girl, though,” Hank said slowly. “And she changed after those days she spent with you. Her heart wasn’t with us anymore. She cried all last night…”

  “Oh, God, don’t,” Quinn said.

  “Sorry, man,” Hank said quietly. “I’m really sorry, that’s the last thing I should have said. Look, go smoke a cigarette. I think I’ll tie one on royally and have the boys put me to bed. Tomorrow we’ll talk. Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  Quinn hung up. He couldn’t bear to think of Amanda crying because of what he’d done to her. He might lose her even yet, and he didn’t know how he was going to go on living. He felt so alone.

  He was out of change after he called the lodge and booked the suite for Hank and the others, but he still had to talk to Elliot and Harry. He dialed the operator and called collect. Elliot answered the phone immediately.

  “How is she?” he asked quickly.

  Quinn went over it again, feeling numb. “I wish I knew more,” he concluded. “But that’s all there is.”

  “She can’t die,” Elliot said miserably. “Dad, she just can’t!”

  “Say a prayer, son,” he replied. “And don’t let Harry teach you any bad habits while I’m gone.”

  “No, sir, I won’t,” Elliot said with a feeble attempt at humor. “You’re going to stay, I guess?”

  “I have to,” Quinn said huskily. He hesitated. “I love her.”

  “So do I,” Elliot said softly. “Bring her back when you come.”

  “If I can. If she’ll even speak to me when she wakes up,” Quinn said with a total lack of confidence.

  “She will,” Elliot told him. “You should have listened to some of those songs you thought were so horrible. One of hers won a Grammy. It was all about having to give up things we love to keep from hurting them. She always seemed to feel it when somebody was sad or hurt, you know. And she risked her own life trying to save that girl at the concert. She’s not someone who thinks about getting even with people. She’s got too much heart.”

  Quinn drew deeply from his cigarette. “I hope so, son,” he said. “You get to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Take care of yourself. Love you, Dad.”

  “Me, too, son,” Quinn replied. He hung up. The waiting area was deserted now, and the hospital seemed to have gone to sleep. He sat down with his foam cup of black coffee and finished his cigarette. The room looked like he felt—empty.

  It was late morning when the nurse came to shake Quinn gently awake. Apparently around dawn he’d gone to sleep sitting up, with an empty coffee cup in his hand. He thought he’d never sleep at all.

  He sat up, drowsy and disheveled. “How is Amanda?” he asked immediately.

  The nurse, a young blonde, smiled at him. “She’s awake and asking for you.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he said heavily. He got quickly to his feet, still a little groggy, and followed her down to the intensive-care unit, where patients in tiny rooms were monitored from a central nurses’ station and the hum and click and whir of life-supporting machinery filled the air. If she was asking for him, she must not hate him too much. That thought sustained him as he followed the nurse into one of the small cubicles where Amanda lay.

  Amanda looked thinner than ever in the light, her face pinched, her eyes hollow, her lips chapped. They’d taken her hair down somewhere along the way and tied it back with a pink ribbon. She was propped up in bed, still with the IV in position, but she’d been taken off all the other machines.

  She looked up and saw Quinn and all the weariness and pain went out of her face. She brightened, became beautiful despite her injuries, her eyes sparkling. Her last thought when she’d realized in the plane what was going to happen had been of Quinn. Her first thought when she’d regained consciousness had been of him. The pain, the grief of having him turn away from her was forgotten. He was here, now, and that meant he had to care about her.

  “Oh, Quinn!” she whispered tearfully, and held out her arms.

  He went to her without hesitation, ignoring the nurses, the aides, the whole world. His arms folded gently around her, careful of the tubes attached to her hand, and his head bent over hers, his cheek on her soft hair, his eyes closed as he shivered with reaction. She was alive. She was going to live. He felt as if he were going to choke to death on his own rush of feeling.

  “My God,” he whispered shakily. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  That was worth it all, she thought, dazed from the emotion in his voice, at the tremor in his powerful body as he held her. She clung to him, her slender arms around his neck, drowning in pleasure. She’d wondered if he hadn’t sent her away in a misguided belief that it was for her own good. Now she was sure of it. He couldn’t have looked that haggard, that terrible, unless she mattered very much to him. Her aching heart soared. “They said you brought me out.”

  “Hale and I did,” he said huskily. He lifted his head, searching her bright eyes slowly. “It’s been the longest night of my life. They said you might die.”

  “Oh, we Callaways are tough birds,” she said, wiping away a tear. She was still weak and sore and her headache hadn’t completely gone away. “You look terrible, my darling,” she whispered on a choked laugh.

  The endearment fired his blood. He had to take a deep breath before he could even speak. His fingers linked with hers. “I felt pretty terrible when we listened to the news report, especially when I remembered the things I said to you.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t know if you’d hate me for the rest of your life, but even if you did, I couldn’t just sit on my mountain and let other people look for you.” His thumb gently stroked the back of her pale hand. “How do you feel, honey?”

  “Pretty bad. But considering it all, I’ll do. I’m sorry about the men who died. One of them was having a heart attack,” she explained. “The other gentleman who was sitting with him alerted me. We both unfastened our seat belts to try and give CPR. Just after I got up, the plane started down,” she said. “Quinn, do you believe in predestination?”

  “You mean, that things happen the way they’re meant to in spite of us?” He smiled. “I guess I do.” His dark eyes slid over her face hungrily. “I’m so glad it wasn’t your time, Amanda.”

  “So am I.” She reached up and touched his thin mouth with just the tips of her fingers. “Where is it?” she asked with an impish smile as a sudden delicious thought occurred to her.

  He frowned. “Where’s what?”

  “My engagement ring,” she said. “And don’t try to back out of it,” she added firmly when he stood there looking shocked. “You told the doctor and the whole medical staff that I was your fiancée, and you’re not ducking out of it now. You’re going to marry me.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I’m what?” he said blankly.

  “You’re going to marry me. Where’s Hank? Has anybody phoned him?”

  “I did. I was supposed to call him back.” He checked his watch and grimaced. “I guess it’s too late now. He and the band are on the way back here.”

  “Good. They’re twice your size and at least as mean.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell them you seduced me. I could be pregnant.” She nodded, thinking up lies fast while Quinn’s face mirrored his stark astonishment. “That’s right, I could.”

  “You could not,” he said shortly. “I never…!”

  “But you’re going to,” she said with a husky laugh. “Just wait until I
get out of here and get you alone. I’ll wrestle you down and start kissing you, and you’ll never get away in time.”

  “Oh, God,” he groaned, because he knew she was right. He couldn’t resist her that way, it was part of the problem.

  “So you’ll have to marry me first,” she continued. “Because I’m not that kind of girl. Not to mention that you aren’t that kind of guy. Harry likes me and Elliot and I are already friends, and I could even get used to McNaber if he’ll move those traps.” She pursed her lips, thinking. “The concert tour is going to be a real drag, but once it’s over, I’ll retire from the stage and just make records and tapes and CDs with the guys. Maybe a video now and again. They’ll like that, too. We’re all basically shy and we don’t like live shows. I’ll compose songs. I can do that at the house, in between helping Harry with the cooking and looking after sick calves, and having babies,” she added with a shy smile.

  He wanted to sit down. He hadn’t counted on this. All that had mattered at the time was getting her away from the wreckage and into a hospital where she could be cared for. He hadn’t let himself think ahead. But she obviously had. His head spun with her plans.

  “Listen, you’re an entertainer,” he began. His fingers curled around hers and he looked down at them with a hard, grim sigh. “Amanda, I’m a poor man. All I’ve got is a broken-down ranch in the middle of nowhere. You’d have a lot of hardships, because I won’t live on your money. I’ve got a son, even if he isn’t mine, and…”

  She brought his hand to her cheek and held it there, nuzzling her cheek against it as she looked up at him with dark, soft, adoring eyes. “I love you,” she whispered.

  He faltered. His cheeks went ruddy as the words penetrated, touched him, excited him. Except for his mother and Elliot, nobody had ever said that to him before Amanda had. “Do you?” he asked huskily. “Still? Even after the way I walked off and left you there at the lodge that night? After what I said to you on the phone?” he added, because he’d had too much time to agonize over his behavior, even if it had been for what he thought was her own good.

  “Even after that,” she said gently. “With all my heart. I just want to live with you, Quinn. In the wilds of Wyoming, in a grass shack on some island, in a mansion in Beverly Hills—it would all be the same to me—as long as you loved me back and we could be together for the rest of our lives.”

  He felt a ripple of pure delight go through him. “Is that what you really want?” he asked, searching her dark eyes with his own.

  “More than anything else in the world,” she confessed. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you who and what I really was. I loved you so much, and I knew you wouldn’t want me…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I want you, all right,” he said curtly. “I never stopped. Damn it, woman, I was trying to do what was best for you!”

  “By turning me out in the cold and leaving me to starve to death for love?” she asked icily. “Thanks a bunch!”

  He looked away uncomfortably. “It wasn’t that way and you know it. I thought maybe it was the novelty. You know, a lonely man in the backwoods,” he began.

  “You thought I was having the time of my life playing you for a fool,” she said. Her head was beginning to hurt, but she had to wrap it all up before she gave in and asked for some more medication. “Well, you listen to me, Quinn Sutton, I’m not the type to go around deliberately trying to hurt people. All I ever wanted was somebody to care about me—just me, not the pretty girl on the stage.”

  “Yes, I know that now,” he replied. He brought her hand to his mouth and softly kissed the palm. The look on his face weakened her. “So you want a ring, do you? It will have to be something sensible. No flashy diamonds, even if I could give you something you’d need sunglasses to look at.”

  “I’ll settle for the paper band on a King Edward cigar if you’ll just marry me,” she replied.

  “I think I can do a little better than that,” he murmured dryly. He bent over her, his lips hovering just above hers. “And no long engagement,” he whispered.

  “It takes three days, doesn’t it?” she whispered back. “That is a long engagement. Get busy!”

  He stifled a laugh as he brushed his hard mouth gently over her dry one. “Get well,” he whispered. “I’ll read some books real fast.”

  She colored when she realized what kind of books he was referring to, and then smiled under his tender kiss. “You do that,” she breathed. “Oh, Quinn, get me out of here!”

  “At the earliest possible minute,” he promised.

  The band showed up later in the day while Quinn was out buying an engagement ring for Amanda. He’d already called and laughingly told Elliot and Harry what she’d done to him, and was delighted with Elliot’s pleasure in the news and Harry’s teasing. He did buy her a diamond, even if it was a moderate one, and a gold band for each of them. It gave him the greatest kind of thrill to know that he was finally marrying for all the right reasons.

  When he got back to the hospital, the rest of the survivors had been airlifted out and all but one of them had been treated and released. The news media had tried to get to Amanda, but the band arrived shortly after Quinn left and ran interference. Hank gave out a statement and stopped them. The road manager, as Quinn found out, had gone on to San Francisco to make arrangements for canceling the concert.

  The boys were gathered around Amanda, who’d been moved into a nice private room. She was sitting up in bed, looking much better, and her laughing dark eyes met Quinn’s the minute he came in the door.

  “Hank brought a shotgun,” she informed him. “And Deke and Johnson and Jack are going to help you down the aisle. Jerry’s found a minister, and Hank’s already arranged a blood test for you right down the hall. The license—”

  “Is already applied for,” Quinn said with a chuckle. “I did that myself. Hello, boys,” he greeted them, shaking hands as he was introduced to the rest of the band. “And you can unload the shotgun. I’d planned to hold it on Amanda, if she tried to back out.”

  “Me, back out? Heaven forbid!” she exclaimed, smiling as Quinn bent to kiss her. “Where’s my ring?” she whispered against his hard mouth. “I want it on, so these nurses won’t make eyes at you. There’s this gorgeous redhead…”

  “I can’t see past you, pretty thing,” he murmured, his eyes soft and quiet in a still-gaunt face. “Here it is.” Quinn produced it and slid it on her finger. He’d measured the size with a small piece of paper he’d wrapped around her finger, and he hoped that the method worked. He needn’t have worried, because the ring was a perfect fit, and she acted as if it were the three-carat monster he’d wanted to get her. Her face lit up, like her pretty eyes, and she beamed as she showed it to the band.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Hank asked him while the others gathered around Amanda.

  “About an hour, I think,” Quinn murmured dryly. “You?”

  “I couldn’t even get properly drunk,” Hank said, sighing, “so the boys and I played cards until we caught the bus. We slept most of the way in. It was a long ride. From what I hear,” he added with a level look, “you and that Hale fellow had an even longer one, bringing Amanda out of the mountains.”

  “You’ll never know.” Quinn looked past him to Amanda, his dark eyes full of remembered pain. “I had to decide whether or not to move her. I thought it was riskier to leave her there until the next morning. If we’d waited, we had no guarantee that the helicopter would have been able to land even then. She could have died. It’s a miracle she didn’t.”

  “Miracles come in all shapes and sizes,” Hank mused, staring at her. “She’s been ours. Without her, we’d never have gotten anywhere. But being on the road has worn her out. The boys and I were talking on the way back about cutting out personal appearances and concentrating on videos and albums. I think Amanda might like that. She’ll have enough to do from now on, I imagine, taking care of you and your boy,” he added with a grin. “Not to mention all those new brothers and
sisters you’ll be adding. I grew up on a ranch,” he said surprisingly. “I have five brothers.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows lifted. “Are they all runts like you?” he asked with a smile.

  “I’m the runt,” Hank corrected.

  Quinn just shook his head.

  * * *

  Amanda was released from the hospital two days later. Every conceivable test had been done, and fortunately there were no complications. The doctor had been cautiously optimistic at first, but her recovery was rapid—probably due, the doctor said with a smile, to her incentive. He gave Amanda away at the brief ceremony, held in the hospital’s chapel just before she was discharged, and one of the nurses was her matron of honor. There were a record four best men; the band. But for all its brevity and informality, it was a ceremony that Amanda would never forget. The Methodist minister who performed it had a way with words, and Amanda and Quinn felt just as married as if they’d had the service performed in a huge church with a large crowd present.

  The only mishap was that the press found out about the wedding, and Amanda and Quinn and the band were mobbed as they made their way out of the hospital afterward. The size of the band members made them keep well back. Hank gave them his best wildman glare while Jack whispered something about the bandleader becoming homicidal if he was pushed too far. They escaped in two separate cars. The driver of the one taking Quinn and Amanda to the lodge managed to get them there over back roads, so that nobody knew where they were.

  Terry had given them the bridal suite, on the top floor of the lodge, and the view of the snowcapped mountains was exquisite. Amanda, still a little shaky and very nervous, stared out at them with mixed feelings.