Penny had spotted a distinctive white and red box hanging on the wall behind the bar. She scrambled off the bar stool and darted around the bar to open the metal container. She snatched out the AED and shoved her way through the bodies until she reached Quinn.
“Here.” She set the portable defibrillator down beside him. “There’s a sheriff van coming, but no ambulance—they’re already out on calls,” she told him in a low voice as she opened the AED case, thanking her stars that Dr. T had kept all of his staff regularly trained for CPR. She’d done her last refresher course shortly before she’d begun working for Vivian.
She was vaguely aware that Squire’s wife had made it through the throng and was crouching down in the crowded space between the close-set tables.
“Nurse,” Gloria told them briskly before ordering everyone to take a few steps back.
“Now,” Squire barked, slamming the end of his walking stick against a table.
Like everyone else, Penny jumped. Someone was crying loudly and Gloria was trying to calm her. Penny quickly turned on the AED as feet shuffled around them, affording them a little more breathing room. Quinn had stripped back the man’s shirt until his chest was bare and he applied the AED pads. Though she’d never seen the machine in real use, she knew it would automatically check for an abnormal heart rhythm.
Quinn, however, was obviously very familiar with the device. “Everyone back,” he barked. “Penny, make sure there’s a path to the door.”
She pushed to her feet just as the AED delivered a shock to the poor man, and stepped carefully around them both.
“Come on,” she ordered, clapping her hands for attention as she shouldered her way. “Get these tables moved back. You—” she pointed at one of Colbys waitresses who was probably all of eighteen and looked scared out of her wits as she squarely blocked Penny’s way “—help Merilee get as many people to move into the grill as you can.” She took the girl’s shoulders and turned her toward the grill, which was connected to the bar by a short breezeway. “Go.”
Finally, there was some progress in clearing a path. The door on the street had opened and she could see the flashing red and blue light of the sheriff van outside.
It felt like forever to Penny, but as she, too, stepped aside while Quinn and two uniformed officers carried the unconscious victim out, she realized it had really only been a matter of minutes.
She saw Gloria accompanying the crying woman after them and blew out a long breath.
“At least they don’t have far to get to the hospital,” someone observed.
“Here.” Squire appeared beside her, pushing a glass of water into her hand.
“Thank you.”
“Had a heart attack once,” he said. “Long time ago. How I met my wife, Gloria. Sometimes good things come out of situations like this. Might be the same for that fella tonight. And at least we can offer him hospital care right in town these days.” He tapped his chest. “Didn’t have that back when I had my bit of difficulty.”
“I know you had a lot to do with the hospital being built.”
He looked contemplative. “That infernal woman you work for has donated a lot of money to the hospital in the last year.”
Penny knew that, too.
“Doesn’t mean she knows diddly-squat about what’s best for Weaver,” he added. “But you can schedule the damn debate.”
After the last few minutes, his capitulation seemed much too easy. She gave him a close look. “You’ll actually be there, right?” she pressed. “I can get the high school auditorium reserved a week before election day.”
“If I don’t show up, I’ll be giving away votes to that termagant you work for.” He gave her a twisted smile. “I’ll be there,” he assured.
Too relieved for words, she pumped his hand with hers. “Thank you, Mr. Clay. Thank you so much!”
He gave a rusty-sounding laugh. “Make it Squire, girl, like everyone else.”
“Squire,” she repeated with a smile.
He gave her a quick wink before he looped his arm around the teenage pool shark, pulling her over to his side. “Meggie, don’t forget your great-grampa, now. I’m expecting a cut o’ your winnings.”
She looped her arms around his neck, smiling happily. “I won’t forget, Grandpa.”
Penny smiled around the sudden tightening in her throat. She’d told Vivian she hadn’t known her grandparents. She’d long ago convinced herself that it hadn’t mattered. But she knew that she never wanted her child to believe such a thing. She never wanted her child to feel alone and adrift. She wanted her child to know family. Family like the Clays and Templetons—who clearly were always there for one another.
She’d spotted Quinn coming back into the bar and she set aside the water glass, excusing herself.
His dark gaze captured hers when she approached and warmth filled her veins. “How’s the man?”
“He’d regained consciousness by the time we got him to the hospital.”
She was feeling unaccountably breathless. “So you did go with him?”
“Neither of the deputy sheriffs were EMT certified.”
“How’d you get back so fast?”
“Was only a few blocks.” His hands closed over her shoulders and slowly ran down her arms. “We have plans.”
She let out a faint laugh. “Saving that guy’s life is just another day for you.”
“Anyone could’ve done what I did. Basic CPR.”
“But anyone didn’t do what you did.”
He lifted his shoulder slightly, looking vaguely self-conscious. It was such an unexpected look on him that she was dangerously charmed. “Least there was more room here than what I’m used to. But then Pave Hawks are a lot better equipped than a barroom floor.”
Pave Hawks. He was talking about a helicopter. She knew that from when she’d spent too many sleepless nights reading anything and everything she could find online about the work he did.
“How’d the ‘debate’ debate go with Squire?”
It took a moment for Penny to drag her thoughts out of the frightening aspects of Quinn’s chosen profession. “He, uh, he agreed actually.” She gestured at the area where he’d rendered CPR. Tables and chairs and people had already resumed their places, though the voice level had gone up even more. “I think watching all that softened him up or something.” She was hyperaware of his hands still moving slowly up and down her arms, though the movements seemed more absent in nature on his part than deliberate. “But whatever the reason, we’ve got ourselves an official campaign debate. So, happy birthday to me.”
Quinn’s hands stilled. His eyes stared into hers. “It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say so?”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I never celebrate my birthday anyway.”
His brows tugged together. “Does Vivian know it’s your birthday?”
She spread her hands. “I don’t know.” Vivian had had her investigated. So she probably did. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I’ve got a mother, two sisters and a bunch of female cousins who’d all disagree with you.” He closed his hand around one of hers. “Come on.”
She realized he was pulling her to the door and quickly grabbed her purse, feeling a sudden panic. Even with the evening’s events, she hadn’t forgotten that Quinn’s presence was only motivated by the pink box that she’d been too much of a ninny to buy for herself. “Where?”
“Dinner.”
She lifted her eyebrows, giving their surroundings an obvious look. “This is a restaurant.”
“And a crowded one where nobody’s going to talk about anything but what happened tonight.” He kept aiming for the door and a moment later she found herself standing with him on the sidewalk outside the bar and grill.
“There.” Quinn smiled down at her. “Isn’t that better?”
She wasn’t sure that it was. She moistened her lips and edged away slightly in hopes that her nerve endings would stop feeling quite so exhilarated by his nearness. “I don’t know. There’s a reason Colbys is as crowded as it is. They serve good food there.”
“There’s good food other places, too,” he assured. His eyes drifted over her, setting off her nerve endings all over again. “You looked pretty in there. Before everything went nuts. I wanted to tell you.”
She was suddenly awash in self-consciousness. “I just, uh, blow-dried my hair straight for once.”
“It’s not the hair,” he murmured. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Or the paint. It was the smile when you were debating debates with Squire.”
She swallowed. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he parroted with a faint smile. Then his hand grabbed hers again and she realized he was heading toward the same truck he’d had earlier that day.
He’d scored a much closer parking spot to Colbys than she had, too.
Even though she didn’t really need help getting up into the high passenger seat, she felt a silly surge of pleasure when he helped her anyway. “Whose truck is this?”
“My cousin’s. Same as the motorcycle the other day. Arch collects vehicles like he collects girls.” He closed the door and she watched him round the front of the truck.
A moment later he’d gotten behind the wheel, and the spacious cab no longer felt spacious at all. “Do you collect girls, too?”
He gave her a sideways look as he started the truck and drove out onto the quiet street. “Not since I collected a wife.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Not going to offer up an argument that you’re not my wife?”
She hadn’t been going to argue at all. Which was something she wasn’t ready to examine. “Would it do any good?”
He shook his head.
She spread her hands as if he’d been the only reason she hadn’t argued. “There you go, then.” She dropped her hands to her lap and looked out the window. He was driving quickly through downtown, unimpeded by any sort of traffic, and she wondered again where they were heading. “What were you tied up with earlier?”
He glanced at her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he looked back to focus on the road. “Had another call from my CO.”
His commanding officer. She felt herself tensing. She knew that Quinn’s leave had an expiration date that was only getting closer by the minute. “Another call? Sounds ominous. What’d he want?” For him to report back to duty immediately?
“To push the idea of my promotion.”
“Promotion!”
His lips twisted. “Sort of. Depends on who you ask. I’m a PJ. I never wanted to be a shirt.” His eyes skated briefly over her again. “First Sergeant. It’s a special duty assignment. More a position than a rank. If there aren’t enough volunteers, then they start looking for volunteers.” He grimaced again. “And they started looking.”
Andy had talked endlessly about the army. So she knew the army ranks, and assumed the air force ranks weren’t significantly different. “That’s an important position, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Everyone is the First Sergeant’s business. Literally. It’s in the creed. First Sergeant is concerned with every detail of every enlisted in the unit. Discipline. Promotion. You name it, they deal with it. And I’ve had good shirts. And bad ones. The good ones want the position because they really do care about every member of the unit. 24/7. They live for all the paperwork and the hand-holding and the head-knocking that comes with it. The bad ones just care about getting themselves ahead.”
“It sounds a lot safer than jumping out of planes and helicopters and God knows what else,” she murmured.
“Yeah, well, if the flight surgeon doesn’t pass me for flight status at the end of the month, the only thing I might be doing is jumping out of my mind.”
Alarm pulsed inside her chest. “You don’t need more surgery?”
“Not that kind of surgeon in this case. It’s the doctor who can clear me again for flight duty.”
That didn’t give her any more reason to relax. Flight duty meant he’d be back doing what he loved. “Where do you have to go for that?”
“It’s arranged for Warren.”
The air force base located near Cheyenne. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Why do you call them shirts?”
“No idea. We just do.” He turned off the road and she frowned, realizing he seemed to be heading in the direction of his grandmother’s house.
“Quinn? Why are we heading to Vivian’s?”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
“Well, I guess I can share the good news with her about Squire agreeing to the debate.”
“You can tell her tomorrow. I’m not planning for us to see her.”
She raised her eyebrows. “We’re going to go to Vivian’s. But not see Vivian? Then what are we going to do?”
He just smiled.
And she felt it from the top of her suddenly giddy head to the curling in her toes and every point in between.
Happy birthday to her, indeed.
Chapter Thirteen
“This shouldn’t taste so good,” Penny whispered.
Quinn laughed softly and leaned over the blanket he’d spread on the lush grass to pour more champagne into her glass. The blanket had come from the guesthouse. The champagne from his grandmother’s wine cellar. “You don’t have to whisper. Sound carries, but I doubt anyone’s going to hear us all the way out here.”
She looked back at Vivian’s house in the distance. It was well illuminated by landscape lights, but where she and Quinn were situated at the farthest point of the manicured grounds, the only light they had came from the moon and stars overhead.
“And everything tastes so good,” he added, “because a little thievery adds spice to the taste buds.”
She couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. “I can’t believe Montrose didn’t catch us raiding his kitchen.” She knew he’d been around, because she’d heard his ponderous footsteps more than once.
“I’ve raided dicier places than Montrose’s kitchen,” he assured.
“Yeah, but if he’d caught you, what could he say? You’re Vivian’s grandson. Me, on the other hand? He’d probably find some way to poison me or something.” She sipped the champagne. “This is like drinking starlight,” she mused.
He laughed softly. “You’re drunk on Granny Viv’s Perrier Jouet.”
She was drunk on him, but was fortunately sober enough to keep that point to herself. He’d said one glass wouldn’t hurt anything. In case. “I’ve only had three sips.”
She looked into the basket that Quinn had used to gather their purloined meal while she’d played lookout at the kitchen door. They’d had leftover bits of duck confit, glazed short ribs, crunchy snow peas and fancy little twists of asparagus. All cold. All the more delicious because of it.
And because of the thievery.
Smiling to herself, she plucked the last morsel of duck from the plastic container and savored it. “Delicious,” she murmured and rolled onto her back to stare up at the stars. “How do Wyoming stars stack up with the rest of the world?
He was stretched out on his back, too. “Up at the top, far as I’m concerned.”
She smiled, though it felt more than a little bittersweet. “Only times I’ve been outside of Wyoming have been because of Vivian’s jaunts.”
“Las Vegas and Pittsburgh?”
“Mmm-hmm. Well, Colorado, too. We went there in February. She wanted to visit a particular art gallery in Colorado Springs.”
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
“Mmm. I dunno,” she mused. “I don’t waste time on pointless dreams. You, though—I bet I could guess where you’d go.” She waved at the stars overhead. “You’d follow the stars across the globe if you could.”
“I’ve already followed the stars across the globe,” he murmured. “I’m thinking of following something else these days.”
She didn’t want to think about where the air force might take him. Her limbs felt like they were melting into the earth beneath them. The night air was still warm with just the vaguest hint of cool sniffing at the edge. And if she wished they could stay right where they were forever, it was her own little secret.
Then she heard the scrape of a match. Smelled the sulfur and turned her lazy head toward Quinn. “Are you smoking?”
She saw the gleam of his smile. He’d sat up. “No.” He stuck the end of the wooden matchstick into something and held it out to her. “Happy birthday, Penny Garner. If you won’t dream about something, at least make a birthday wish.”
He’d pushed the match like a candle into one of Montrose’s famous petit fours.
Everything inside her squeezed, then bloomed.
“Be quick,” he laughed. “Or it’s going to burn out on its own.”
She pushed up on her arm and blew out the match.
“Did you make a wish?”
She couldn’t do anything but nod. Not without betraying the tears that had flooded her eyes.
“I know it isn’t as good as your sixteenth birthday.” He plucked the spent match and tossed it into the basket. His palm was still extended toward her with the frosted confection on it. “But I did what I could.”
Her sixteenth birthday. When she’d met Andy.
So much for the tears. They overflowed anyway. She took the tiny square cake and bit off half. It tasted like strawberry. Balanced the other half on the end of two fingers and offered it to him.
Vegas Wedding, Weaver Bride Page 16
