Once Touched

by Laura Moore

  “What’s that? I can’t hear you.” With a grin Quinn cupped a hand to her ear. The parrot’s high-pitched yaps had segued into the blast of a truck horn. His previous owner must have put his cage next to an open window on a busy street because Alfie could mimic the rat-a-tat percussion of jackhammers, the rumble and grind of garbage trucks, and the wail of ambulance sirens, an entire catalogue of obnoxious sounds.

  Lorelei laughed. Raising her voice, she said, “Let’s go put a smile on that crazy bird’s beak. Otherwise he’ll start tossing peanut shells. How does he throw them so far, anyway?”

  “What can I tell you? He’s a major blue-fronted Amazon talent.”

  “That’s for sure. His wind-up is no joke.”

  “FYI, I owe you a batch of my killer brownies for this weekend of pet-sitting. I’ll bring them by the shelter.”

  “That’d be great. Marsha needs some cheering up. Budget cuts,” she said by way of explanation.

  “They’re that bad?”

  “Yeah. We were operating on a shoestring before. It’s dental floss now.” The grimace on Lorelei’s face had nothing to do with Alfie’s piercing squawk as they neared the study.

  “I’ll make it a double batch, then.”

  Quinn stepped inside the room. Spying her, Alfie flung his electric green-and-yellow body at the bars of the cage, his wings flapping madly. “Quinn, Quinn, Quinn!”

  She walked up to the cage and, inserting her fingers, scratched Alfie along the side of his neck, gently ruffling his short feathers. He stretched his neck farther and began whistling softly.

  “Jeesh, you really have a way with males, don’t you?” Lorelei said.

  Unbidden, the image of Ethan’s scowling face sprang to mind. She certainly hadn’t wowed him. “I specialize in the four-legged and winged variety.”

  “That so? What about a certain cowboy named Josh? He sounds a lot like Alfie with his ‘Quinn this’ and ‘Quinn that.’ We crossed paths yesterday when I went to say hi to the goats—Mel and Adele spoiled them with tons of treats, by the way. I bet Josh would let you run your fingers just about anywhere you want.” Lorelei grinned.

  If only the idea of running her fingers anywhere near Josh filled her with a smidgeon of excitement. Now that she’d had a couple of days to clear her head from the dizzying effect of Josh’s stunning looks and smooth charm, her ambivalence was back in full force. She kept her gaze fixed on the patch of royal blue just above Alfie’s curved beak. “Not sure I’m interested.”

  “Why in the world not? He’s certainly interested in you. Actually, he seems perfect for you.”

  Quinn shrugged. “Maybe that’s the problem. He’s too perfect.” She hoped that was the reason for her indifference. Unfortunately, her present attitude toward Josh was the same resounding meh she’d had toward the other guys she’d dated or attempted to get physical with.

  “So a guy who’s perfect for you—who loves horses, knows ranches, and seems to like and be liked by just about everyone—is flawed, huh? Go figure. Quinn, sweetie, has anyone ever told you that you’re hard to please?”

  Oh yeah, but not so gently or affectionately.

  It was one thing for her to be disappointed in herself and her inability to dredge up any kind of enthusiasm, quite another for men to look at her and find her lacking. Or worse. There’d been a whole bunch of words that had followed each of her disastrous attempts at sex. The words of choice had been unresponsive and stiff, as well as the favorite: frigid. Unlike the guys whose egos she’d bruised, Quinn knew female frigidity had been busted as a sexual myth, so she’d been kind of able to shake that one off.

  Fucking tease was the term that really hurt, muttered furiously as her rejected sex partner yanked on his jeans and kept his gaze averted. The label didn’t simply make her out as weird or abnormal in her responses. It cast her as cruel and manipulative, as if she enjoyed leading a man on only to refuse to put out at the crucial sticking point.

  Quinn didn’t believe she was naturally a mean person. But clearly something happened to her whenever she tried to be intimate with someone. After her last failure, she’d come to the conclusion that she’d rather skip the whole sex thing—even if a “perfect” guy was interested—than face that accusation again.

  What with Alfie’s antics—he’d spread his beautiful wings and was flapping them against the bars in a plea to be sprung from his cage—Lorelei hadn’t noticed Quinn’s silence. “Well, I think you’re going to have to resign yourself to being pursued by that smooth-talking Texan with the same energy Sooner devotes to running down your flock of sheep.”

  Forewarned was forearmed. And Quinn was pretty sure she had more brains than the average sheep.

  —

  Ethan was glad Quinn had left the cabin. It meant he no longer had to make his screaming muscles hold his shoulders back.

  “Ethan, son, it’s good to see you, but for God’s sake, sit down,” Daniel Knowles instructed with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice.

  Grateful that Daniel hadn’t tacked on the all-too-obvious “Before you fall down,” Ethan dropped onto the loveseat, which was positioned at a forty-five-degree angle to a wood-burning cast iron stove. In the corner of the room stood a double bed with a frame constructed of gnarled tree limbs. He fixed his gaze on the patchwork quilt covering the mattress until its squares of blue stopped swimming and the room stopped tilting. Now, if only Daniel and Adele would follow their daughter out the door, he could release the groan of agony bottled inside him.

  Instead he forced himself to be polite, his payment for being allowed to escape the fear in his own parents’ eyes. “It’s good to see you, too. Neither of you has aged a day.”

  “We haven’t been living in a war zone,” Daniel replied.

  “What happened, Ethan?” Adele asked.

  A world of shit, too horrific to describe in this rustic cabin that, after the cement block he’d bunked in, seemed as luxurious as a penthouse suite in the Four Seasons. “An IED exploded as our Humvee passed. The impact banged up my shoulder and arm. My head took a hard knock.”

  Adele’s choked sound of dismay reminded him of his mother’s. He didn’t glance up to check whether she, too, had tears slipping down her face, as his mother did whenever one of the doctors came in to evaluate him.

  “A bang and a knock,” Daniel echoed dryly.

  His shoulder hurt too much to shrug. “I’m alive.” Unlike the others who’d been riding in the vehicle, or that child who couldn’t have been more than eight years old, damn it. Blocking the horrifying memory, he looked up at Adele. Yup, her eyes were awash in tears. “Thanks for taking me in.”

  Adele’s expression grew warm as a soft smile lifted her cheeks. He thought he remembered that look and how it would settle over her face when one of her kids ran up to her with some story to share. Even then he’d understood that she was a beautiful woman.

  “Of course, Ethan,” she said. “You should stay and recuperate for as long—”

  “I want to earn my keep while I’m here.”

  Adele’s eyes widened in surprise. They were a softer blue than Quinn’s, which had bright shards of light emanating from the irises.

  “What kind of work were you envisioning?” she asked, as if he hadn’t been about to topple over three minutes ago.

  “I’ll wash dishes if that’s what you need, but I’d like to be outside if possible. I’ve been staring at walls too long.” Staring as he remembered the blood and the pain and the death, and growing sick with guilt. He longed for the sweet blankness of hard labor, the glimpse of the fir-covered mountains breaking the horizon, and the scent of crisp, clean air when he inhaled—all so different, so not there.

  “Uh, Ethan, I think you should take a couple of days of R&R before we put you to work. In the meantime we’ll see where we can best use an extra pair of hands,” Daniel said, keeping his gaze fixed on his face, rather than on the sling immobilizing his arm.

  Ethan wasn’t fooled. “I can do
the work.” He had to.

  “Of course you can. Now, the refrigerator and the cupboard are stocked, but if you’re hungry for anything else, just ring the kitchen—I left a list of numbers on the counter by the sink. Just tell them who you are. The kitchen staff will be more than happy to bring you food. Our phone numbers are there, in case you need us.” The brisk cheer in Adele’s voice couldn’t quite mask the worry there.

  Ethan had traveled the world, photographing the jungles of Borneo, the Sahara desert, the slums and palaces of the great capitals, but now this generous woman wasn’t sure he could manage on his own in a simple twenty-by-thirty-foot cabin.

  He hated that she might be right.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, more harshly than her well-meaning kindness deserved. And even if he weren’t okay, he’d rot in hell before imposing on the Knowleses any further.

  AS LORELEI PREDICTED, Josh wasted little time hunting her down. She’d only just finished grooming Tucker, her rescue gelding, the next morning when she heard him call out, “Hey, Quinn, brought something for you.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. He was standing about five yards away—his time at Silver Creek Ranch more than long enough for him to know that Tucker didn’t tolerate men too close. Meeting her gaze, he smiled and held a paper bag aloft. The movement caused his faded denim jacket to rise, exposing a tan corduroy shirt and a megasized Texas star belt buckle.

  “I got a pecan pumpkin muffin for you. Maebeth and Nancy say hi.”

  She leaned closer to Tucker and stroked his chestnut neck to communicate her calm, hoping the gelding would do no more than twitch his ears and shift his weight from side to side.

  “That’s really nice of you, Josh. Uh, you know I was only kidding about your needing to ply me with muffins, right?”

  “Domino was such a treat, I figure you deserve one, too. And besides, now that I’ve been down to the luncheonette for breakfast, I’m kinda hooked. Especially since Maebeth has started slipping me a few extra pieces of bacon.”

  “I’m sure she appreciates your appetite.”

  He smiled as if he knew just how much Maebeth appreciated a man like him. “Want me to hold on to this until you’ve finished with Tucker?” He jiggled the bag and then cursed when he realized what he’d done. “Damn!”

  Already nervous, Tucker had shied at the bag’s strange rustling, jumping sideways as though his hooves had become springs. The lead rope slipped through Quinn’s hand. She followed it as smoothly as she could to prevent him from spooking more.

  “Easy, Tucker,” she said, moving with him as he skipped sideways. Her hand closed about the rope, offering a light resistance, while she continued to use her voice to soothe and reassure.

  It took several more sidesteps before her horse calmed, for his head to drop and his body to relax a bit—his flight instinct was still strong. With a cluck she led him back to the spot where she’d been grooming him.

  Raising her voice a little, she spoke to Josh. “Just stand there quietly, okay? I’m going to brush him lightly on this side before I release him. I want him to see you’re not a threat.”

  “Got it.” He made sure to keep his voice low.

  A few minutes later she unsnapped the lead rope from the halter and stepped away from Tucker as he whirled on his hind legs and took off at a pounding gallop, not slowing until he was on the other side of the paddock. Gathering her grooming tools, she placed them in the carryall before ducking between the fence’s railings.

  “Real sorry about that, Quinn. I was sure I was far enough away. That rescue of yours would shy at his own shadow, wouldn’t he?”

  “He’s come a long way. But his fear factor skyrockets when someone does anything out of the ordinary. Some moron did a real number on him.”

  “Yeah, Jim mentioned that to me. Here, take this,” he said, plucking the carryall from her fingers and passing her the paper bag. “I might eat it otherwise.”

  She took the bag and opened it. “It does smell awfully tempting.” Retrieving the muffin, she eyed it, and bit deep. “Mmm,” she said and swallowed. “They do an epic job baking at the luncheonette. Thanks.”

  “Hope it goes some way toward forgiving me for spooking your horse.”

  From the corner of her eye she caught him looking at her. She swept the back of her hand over her mouth in case she’d left a trail of brown sugar and pecans, telling herself that, no, that wasn’t vanity. It was good manners. Her mom would be proud.

  “What’s that look for?” she asked when he continued to regard her. Had she left a streak on her cheek?

  “I was just wonderin’ about you.”

  She swallowed. It wasn’t enough that he’d brought her a muffin, now he had to tell her he was thinking about her? Despite the alarm bells ringing in her head, she couldn’t help but feel a little flattered. And wasn’t that messed up? “Why were you wondering about me?”

  “The rescue thing,” he said.

  Her brow furrowed beneath the sweatband of her Stetson. “What about it?”

  “Well,” he began as they walked toward the corral where Domino and Josh’s horse, Waylon, were dozing near the water trough, “I’ve been hearing about all the different animals you’ve rescued and such. You strike me as a sunny kind of person. You’ve got so many healthy and happy animals here to enjoy.” The sweep of his arm encompassed the barns and corrals. “Isn’t it kind of depressing to see so many who’ve been hurt or treated so badly?”

  She shrugged uncomfortably, not liking to have to explain such a fundamental part of her character and a touch annoyed that Josh apparently believed that just because she lived in a beautiful place among healthy and well-cared-for animals, she wouldn’t be interested in helping ones in need. That it might be too much of a downer. “It’s something I’ve been doing a long time. If I can heal them and find homes for them where they’ll be loved the way they deserve, that’s worth dealing with the ugliness of their condition.”

  “I noticed your family treats the stock differently. The roundup and loading this past weekend had a real…well…” He paused, searching for the word. “Easy feel to it. It was interesting.”

  “The roundup and loading is straight-up Temple Grandin.”

  “Come again?”

  “Temple Grandin. She’s an animal scientist. She’s got amazing insights when it comes to animals. I had my family and Pete attend one of her seminars on ways to reduce stress for livestock heading for slaughter. Her ideas make you rethink your notions about animals and how they see the world. I have some of her books—”

  She stopped. She had a tendency to get nerdy fast when she talked about Temple Grandin, Buck Brannaman, Monty Roberts, or Jane Goodall, her personal superheroes.

  Josh rubbed his cheek. “Yeah, well, I’m not much of a reader. I’m much better at doing, practicing until I get it just right. Know what I mean?”

  Though he hadn’t taken a step toward her, somehow his body seemed nearer.

  She swallowed. Yup, she had a pretty good idea just how determined and active a learner he’d be. Enthusiastic, too. No dragging his heels for this cowboy.

  “Maybe you could tell me more about this Church person—”

  “Temple,” she corrected with a smile.

  “Right, Temple.” Twin dimples appeared when he smiled back. “We could go to The Drop together some night this week. How about it, Quinn? You free on Friday?”

  “I…uh…” Shooting the breeze and munching muffins with Josh while they were on the job was fine and dandy. A date at the Drop would change things. He might start thinking she was interested in more. Her heart began thudding in panic. “Sorry, this Friday I’m waiting tables at the restaurant.”

  “Okay. Then how about the Friday after that?”

  Her brain froze. Unable to come up with a viable excuse, she scanned the barn area looking for an escape. Spotting her brother Reid talking to Jim, she mustered a cheery casualness. “Sure. Sounds good. But hey, you know what? We should have Reid
and Mia come with us. Reid’s been to Temple Grandin’s clinics, so he can tell you about her, too. And I need to catch up with Mia and make sure she isn’t spoiling Reid too much.”

  Something flickered in Josh’s expression. Astonishment, probably. She doubted women did anything but jump at his invitations. And she bet she was the first one to suggest a double date. To his credit, he recovered quickly. “That’d be fun, too.”

  “Great.” Never let it be said that she was as easily corralled as one of their long-wooled Lincoln sheep.

  “Hey, Reid,” she called out, waving to catch her brother’s attention. “Are you and Mia up for a night at The Drop Friday after next?”

  Reid walked over to them. “Yeah, why not? We haven’t been down to The Drop in a while, and Bruno’s doing better. Mia won’t worry too much about leaving him on his own for an evening.”

  “Who’s Bruno?” Josh asked.

  “Mia’s dog. He was poisoned. It was touch and go for a while, but he pulled through like a champ,” Reid said.

  “So we’re all set then,” Quinn said brightly, then added as if the thought had just occurred to her, “Maybe we can even round up a bunch of the guys so we can fill the place with cowboy boots. What do you think, Josh?”

  “I’ll be sure to ask around.” His enthusiasm seemed a little forced.

  Reid cocked his head, doubtless wondering why she was acting like her social calendar was the most important thing on her mind at seven in the morning. Then he shifted his attention to Josh. “Pete was looking for you. He’s over at the sheep pen with Ward. They’re trimming hooves this morning and could use an extra hand.”

  “I’ll get right over there. Don’t know much about handling sheep, though.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it pretty quick,” Reid promised.

  “See ya around, Quinn,” Josh said before heading off toward the sheep barn, the smallest of the three weathered barns.

  Reid pinned her with a gaze that was laser bright. “What was all that about?”