Quinn

by R. C. Ryan

  Cheyenne watched Quinn. Throughout the narrative, his face had gone from cheerful to grim. It was obvious that the memory still had the ability to strike a nerve.

  “And so you decided to become a voice for the wolves,” she said softly.

  He turned to look at her and she could see the gradual change in his features as he relaxed once again. “Yeah. It had a huge impact on my life. As a rancher, I perfectly understand the need to protect my herd from predators. But this land belongs to more than just people. Those wild creatures were here before us. They have to have some rights. Who speaks for them?”

  “You do,” Cheyenne said simply.

  Quinn’s gaze flew to Cheyenne’s mouth with a raw, impassioned look that had her face growing hot. She had the distinct impression that if they were alone, he’d have dragged her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  “Yes, you do, big bro. And very eloquently, I might add.” Jake slapped his arm.

  Quinn and Cheyenne continued staring at each other with a look that wasn’t lost on his siblings.

  With knowing smiles they returned to their chores while Quinn and Cheyenne seemed to fumble about uncomfortably before resuming their work.

  “What’s that up there?” Cheyenne stood in the doorway of the barn and pointed toward a windswept hillside.

  “Come on. Let’s take a break from work and I’ll show you.” Quinn caught her hand and together they set out to climb.

  Behind them, Josh and Jake set aside their pitchforks and followed along.

  When they arrived at the spot, Cheyenne caught sight of the marble headstone. “It’s a cemetery.”

  “Not just a cemetery.” Quinn shared a smile with his brothers. “According to Big Jim, this is hallowed ground. This is where his wife, Clementine, and their five sons are buried.”

  Cheyenne moved closer to read the inscriptions on the tombstone and then on the five smaller stones, set in a circle around their mother’s grave. “Your father was the only one to survive?”

  “Yeah.” Jake grinned. “He’d tell you only the good die young. But the truth is our pa’s one tough survivor.”

  She noted the fresh slice of corn bread on Clementine’s headstone. “What’s this?”

  “Looks like Big Jim dropped by before heading up in the hills. He does that a lot. Stops by to have a talk with his wife about how things are going and leaves her little tokens of his love.”

  Cheyenne felt tears sting her eyes. “That’s… just so sweet.”

  Josh nodded. “Big Jim acts like this big, tough cowboy. And he is. But when it comes to his Clementine, he’s all mush. He comes up here all the time just to talk, or complain, or brag. He said he wasn’t going to allow death to stop him from sharing his life with his best girl.”

  Cheyenne looked around at the circle of graves and the rustic wooden bench set to one side, where Big Jim could sit and talk with his wife. “I can see why he calls it hallowed ground. You can feel the love here. There’s a sense of peace in this place.”

  The three brothers nodded.

  Quinn spoke for all of them. “We all feel it. Every time we come here.”

  As they made their way down the hill, there was a spring to their steps, as though they’d been somehow invigorated by their visit to their grandmother’s grave.

  It occurred to Cheyenne that, though Clementine and her five sons had all died before any of them had been born, Big Jim had kept them all alive for other generations by the sheer love in his heart.

  It was just one more thing she couldn’t help admiring about this amazing family.

  “Time for a lunch break,” Josh announced.

  Cheyenne looked up. “Did your stomach tell you that?”

  “Not my stomach. This.” He lifted his cell phone from his pocket, letting the others hear the vibration.

  “You actually get an alert when lunch is ready?” Cheyenne started laughing while shaking her head in wonder.

  “Phoebe and I set it up. It’s a lot easier than the old dinner bell.” He hooked his shovel on a peg along the wall and headed out of the barn, with the others following suit.

  In the mudroom they hosed down their rubber boots before stashing them on the low shelf rigged with drain holes to allow the water to escape.

  “I’ve been meaning to say how clever this is.” Cheyenne turned to study the design. “Since I have to rebuild my room anyway, I want to incorporate some of these ideas.”

  Quinn smiled. “Then you need to talk to Big Jim. After a lifetime of ranching, he has more ideas than a dozen men combined. He and Brand Hudson get their heads together and talk over a need, then figure out how to design something to fit the need. They make a great team. Big Jim sees a problem, the two of them figure out the solution, and Brand comes up with the design. Sometimes it’s as grand as a spillway to carry the spring runoff from the mountains into our ponds. And sometimes it’s as simple as a shelf with drain holes.”

  “I hope Brand won’t mind if I copy this one.”

  Quinn shook his head. “If anything, he’ll be flattered. And he’ll probably want to help you improve on his design.”

  “I’d welcome his help.” She stashed her parka and the borrowed work gloves before washing her hands and then stepping into the kitchen.

  She paused in the doorway behind the others. “Oh, something smells wonderful.”

  As Cheyenne took her place beside Quinn, Ela ladled steaming homemade beef-and-barley soup into bowls while Phoebe passed around a tray of submarine sandwiches brimming with steak, grilled onions, and green pepper.

  “Oh.” Cheyenne managed a sigh of pure pleasure as she took her first taste. “And I thought breakfast was grand.”

  Phoebe’s smile brightened. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Approve?” Cheyenne took another big bite of her sandwich before giving a hum.

  Beside her, Quinn chuckled before leaning close enough to whisper, “Music to my ears.”

  Though her cheeks went pink with embarrassment, within minutes she was humming again as she emptied the bowl of soup and devoured the huge sandwich on her plate.

  “A great lunch, as always.” Josh kissed Ela’s withered cheek, causing the old woman to blush like a schoolgirl. “Now Dr. Jake and I have an appointment with a patient in the barn.”

  “See all the money I’m saving you?” his brother teased.

  Josh punched his arm hard enough to stagger him. “Considering what it cost Pa for all those years of schooling, it’ll probably take him until the age of ninety to earn it back in fees you won’t be charging him.”

  “You’re right.” Jake returned the punch. “I think I’d better double your fee just to earn my keep.”

  “Double nothing is still nothing.” Josh glanced toward Quinn and Cheyenne. “You two want to come along and watch the genius at work?”

  Cheyenne shook her head. “I’m planning on driving back to my ranch to see how the cleanup is going.”

  Quinn pushed away from the table. “I’ll go with Cheyenne.”

  Phoebe turned from the stove. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Cheyenne glanced at Quinn for confirmation.

  He nodded in agreement.

  Outside they climbed into Cheyenne’s ranch truck.

  With Cheyenne driving, they headed along the curving gravel road that led to the highway.

  The storm clouds had been replaced with sunny skies and a temperature that had climbed steadily all morning. Snow melted from fence posts and ran in little rivers along the side of the road.

  “I love springtime in Wyoming.” Cheyenne gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  Quinn adjusted his sunglasses before turning to her. “Me, too. And after a winter like ours, we deserve some sunshine.”

  They drove in silence until she looked over. “I can’t tell you how much I like your family. I thought I’d feel awkward. But they’ve all made me feel so welcome.”

  “They like you, too.�
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  “How can you tell?”

  “I just know.” He opened the window, letting the fresh air fill the cab of the truck. It took the ends of her hair and lifted them in a dance about her shoulders. Without thinking he caught a handful and watched as it sifted through his fingers. He’d thought it was black, but it was, in the sunlight, a rainbow of colors, from deepest mahogany to strands of russet and dark brown.

  Cheyenne felt the tingle of his touch all the way to her toes.

  When she glanced over he was smiling and studying her with a kind of fierce concentration.

  “What’re you thinking?”

  He arched a brow before saying, “That I’d like you to pull over so I could kiss you.”

  “Quinn…”

  He grinned. “You asked. I thought I’d be honest.”

  “Well, next time try to be a little less honest,” she said with a laugh.

  “Okay. I’ll lie. I really don’t want to kiss you. Like any guy looking at a gorgeous woman, I’m thinking about how many ranch chores I ought to be doing right now instead of being here with you.”

  “You think I’m gorgeous?”

  “Did I say that? I meant to say ‘average looking.’ In fact, very average looking. Doesn’t every woman have long, dark hair, a peaches-and-cream complexion, and the most kissable lips in the world?”

  “Kissable lips? Really?” She batted her lashes. “I believe I like your lies, Mr. Conway. Tell me more.”

  He gave her a long, steady look. “Don’t let all that flattery go to your head. By today’s standards that long, curly hair ought to be straightened with lots of hair goop and that peaches-and-cream complexion really should be plastered over with heavy makeup like those models on magazine covers and those entirely too kissable lips should be painted with candy-apple-red lipstick, so they can sell a million tubes of the stuff.”

  “You like candy-apple red?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just said the so-called experts would tell you the whole package could probably use some help.” His gaze slowly swept her. “They’d be lying. And then there’s that body. It probably took you years of ranch chores to have what Hollywood stars are able to achieve with only a few thousand dollars and a couple of hundred hours with a personal trainer.” He shot her a dangerous smile. “How’m I doing?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m feeling very conflicted at the moment. Truth or lies? If truth, I’m in trouble. If you’re lying, you’re very good at it.”

  “I gave it my best.” He put a hand on her arm. “Wow. Wait a minute. Pull over here.”

  She brought the truck to a halt and looked around in consternation. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Too much talking. And way too much time spent looking at you.” He unclicked her seat belt and drew her across the seat and into his arms. Against her mouth he growled, “Like I said, the only thing I really want to do is to kiss you. Now.”

  Before she could utter a word of protest he lowered his lips to hers. Caught by surprise, she could only give a quick little gasp before his mouth captured hers.

  The kiss was as hot and hungry as the look she’d seen in his eyes just moments before. A kiss that was all fire and flash and sizzle. The mere touch of his lips on hers had sparks igniting between them.

  Oh, his clever lips. So warm and firm as they moved slowly, deliberately, on hers, engaging her fully before she was even aware of what she was doing.

  The arms that held her were so strong she couldn’t have resisted if she’d tried. Not that she wanted to resist. Not when there was so much pleasure here in his embrace, where she could feel his wild, unsteady heartbeat inside her own chest.

  He kissed her with a measured, steady patience that had her blood heating and her bones melting like wax to flame.

  “Thanks. I needed that.” He spoke the words against her lips, nibbling and teasing the corner of her mouth as he did.

  She made a sound that could have been a gasp or a laugh. “My pleasure.” She could feel her head swimming. It had all been so sudden. He’d caught her completely by surprise.

  “No, ma’am. The pleasure was all mine.” He lifted his head and the smile he gave her had her heart melting like the snow outside their window.

  She pressed her palm to his cheek. “I have to admit, that was… very satisfying.”

  “Speaking of satisfying…” His smile grew. “I know what could make us feel even better.”

  “I think I’m afraid to ask.”

  “We could pull the truck behind those trees up ahead and take this a whole lot further.”

  “I just bet we could.” She gave a small laugh and wondered if he could hear how breathless she felt. “Nice try, Conway.”

  With an effort she pushed away and settled herself behind the wheel before fastening her seat belt.

  “I take it that’s a no.” He reached over to play with the ends of her hair.

  A series of shivers raced along her spine. The man definitely knew what he was doing. “A really big, fat no.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  As she put the truck in gear she was forced to take several very deep breaths before her poor heart returned to its normal rhythm.

  She glanced at her hands on the wheel and was relieved to note that they appeared steady.

  A very good sign that she appeared to be in control.

  There was no sense in letting him know just how tempting his offer had been, and how hard it had been for her to refuse.

  As for control, she was hanging on to hers by a thread.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As Cheyenne turned the truck onto the lane leading to her ranch, she fell silent. The closer she got, the more quiet she became.

  Even though she thought she was prepared, the first sight of her fire-damaged home was a terrible blow to her heart.

  Debris was strewn about the yard. The misshapen remains of the hot-water heater and furnace had been piled into one of the hay wagons. Several wranglers, apparently brought down from the high country to assist in the cleanup, were busy tearing out charred walls and flooring. The back door had been removed, and in the unheated utility room icicles hung from the charred beams.

  Cheyenne brought the truck to a stop but made no move to step out.

  Seeing the stricken look on her face, Quinn was out in a flash, circling the truck and opening the driver’s side door. Taking her hand, he kept hold of it as they walked side by side toward the house.

  “Remember that this is only the first step. Before things can get better, they’ll probably get much worse.”

  She shook her head in denial. “I can’t imagine anything worse than this, Quinn.”

  “It’s superficial.” He pointed. “The structure is still sound. With new floors, new walls, new windows, and new appliances—”

  He heard her deep sigh of impatience.

  “I know. It sounds like a lot, but think of this: As you move forward, you get to incorporate any changes or improvements that you’ve ever wanted and wished you had.”

  “Like the conveniences I saw in your mudroom.”

  “Exactly. In the words of Big Jim, turn this disaster into the deal of a lifetime. Make it a winning proposition.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Okay. I get it. Think like a Conway.”

  “That’s it.”

  She took a deep breath. “Now to see what progress has been made.”

  They stepped inside, walking gingerly over floors littered with pieces of drywall and charred wood. The walls were being stripped down to the studs.

  In the midst of the chaos stood Wes Mason, directing a crew of wranglers.

  He looked over. “Hey, Cheyenne. Quinn. The insurance appraiser is inside with Austin.”

  Cheyenne and Quinn moved past the workers and, finding the kitchen empty, climbed the stairs to find the inspector, along with Austin, in the upper hallway.

  “Hey, Cheyenne.” Austin turned to the man beside him. “Lyle, this is the ranch owner
, Cheyenne O’Brien.”

  Cheyenne offered a handshake.

  “Lyle Worthy, Miss O’Brien.” The man wore a heavy parka and work boots. Thick, round glasses gave him an owlish appearance as he stared around at the destruction. In his hands was a clipboard on which he had already made several notations.

  “Lyle, this is Quinn—”

  “Conway.” The inspector stuck out his hand while explaining to the others, “I’ve known Quinn and his family for years. I guess there isn’t anyone in these parts that hasn’t met one or more of the Conways.”

  The two men greeted each other before the inspector returned his attention to his clipboard. “Austin was just answering my questions, Miss O’Brien. Now that you’re here, you can help me fill in some blanks.”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  As they descended the stairs the inspector said, “I’d hoped to have a look before the debris was removed, but your men got an early start and I was delayed. Because the furnace and hot-water heater were removed before I got here, I can’t be certain just how or why the fire started, but I can tell you that it started in your utility room. For the record, Wes Mason told me that there were what appeared to be charred rags near the furnace, but they’d been removed along with the rest of the debris and nobody can seem to find them. Without them, I’m unable to conduct tests to see if an accelerant may have been used.”

  “You think this was deliberately set?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not saying that at all. This is a working ranch. Rags are frequently left after a cleanup. But a test could have told me if there was a foreign substance on them.”

  When they reached the kitchen Lyle Worthy paused to look at his clipboard. “My report will state that a person of interest was spotted nearby shortly before the fire started.”

  “A person of interest?”

  He peered at Cheyenne over his glasses. “Deacon Vance.”

  She gave a quick shake of her head. “Deke’s family ranch isn’t far from here. Several of us share open rangeland. He has every right to be seen nearby.”