Probably that she was a love-starved thirty-two-year-old who hadn't known a man's touch in more years than she cared to remember.
How had she forgotten that incredible rush of sensations churning through her body? The delicious heat and lassitude that turned her brain to mush and her bones to rubber?
She had nearly burst into tears at how absolutely perfect it had felt to have his arms around her, his mouth sure and confident on hers. Wouldn't that have been humiliating? Thank the Lord she at least had retained some tiny modicum of dignity. But she had wanted to lose herself inside that kiss, to become so tangled up in him that she could forget the hundreds of reasons she shouldn't be kissing Quinn Southerland on a cold October night outside Winder Ranch.
If I had known you were such an enthusiastic kisser, I wouldn't have worked so hard to fight you off in high school.
His words seemed to echo through her car and she wanted to sink through the floorboards in complete mortification.
What was she thinking? Quinn Southerland, for heaven's sake! The man despised her, rightfully so. If she wanted to jump feet-first into the whole sexual attraction thing, shouldn't she try to have the sense God gave a goose and pick somebody who could at least stand to be in the same room with her?
The unpalatable truth was, she hadn't been thinking at all. From the first instant his mouth had touched hers with such stunning impact, she felt like that shooting star she had wished upon, bursting through the atmosphere.
She had been rocked to her core by the wild onrush of sensations, his hands sure and masculine, his rough, late-evening shadow against her skin, his scent—of sleepy male and the faint lingering hint of some expensive aftershave—subtle and sexy at the same time.
To her great shame, she had wanted to forget everything sensible and sound and just surrender to the heat of his kiss. Who knew how long she would have let him continue things if she hadn't heard the lonely sound of a coyote?
Blast the man. She had everything planned out so perfectly. Her new job, relocating to Portland. It wasn't fair that he should come back now and stir up her insides like a tornado touching down. She didn't need this sort of complication just as she was finally on the brink of moving on with her life.
She scrubbed at her cheeks for another moment, then dropped her hands and took a deep, cleansing breath. The tragic truth was, he wouldn't be around much longer and she wouldn't have to deal with him. Jo was clinging by her fingernails but she couldn't hold on much longer. When she passed, Quinn would return to Seattle and she would be starting her new life.
For a few weeks, she would just have to do her best to deal with this insane reaction, to conceal it from him.
He didn't like her and she would be damned if she would pant after him like she was still that teenage girl with a crush.
* * *
"Thanks a million for taking a look at the Beast," Easton said. "I really didn't want to have to haul it to the repair place in town."
Four days after his startling encounter with Tess, Quinn stood with his hands inside Easton's temperamental tractor, trying to replace the clutch. "No problem," he answered. "It's good to know I can still find my way around the insides of a John Deere."
"If Southerland Shipping ever hits the skids, you can always come back home and be my grease monkey."
He grinned. "It's always good to have options, isn't it?"
She returned his smile, but it faded quickly. "Guff wanted you to stay and do just that, didn't he? You could always find your way around any kind of combustion engine."
True enough. He never minded other ranch work—roundup and moving the cattle and even hauling hay. But he had always been happiest when he was up to his elbows in grease, tinkering with this or that machine.
"Remember that old '66 Chevy pickup truck you used to work on? The blue one with the white top and all those curves?"
"Oh, yeah. She was a sweet ride. I imagine Cisco drove her into the ground after I left for the Air Force."
Something strange flashed in her mind for a moment, before she blinked it away. "You could have stayed. You would have been more than welcome," Easton said after a moment. "But I knew all along you never would."
He raised an eyebrow. Had he been so transparent? "Pine Gulch is a nice place and I love the ranch. Why were you so certain I wouldn't stick around? I might have been happy running a little place of my own nearby."
She shook her head. "Not you. Brant, maybe. He loves his ranch, though you would have to use that crowbar in the toolbox over there to get him to admit it. But you and Cisco had wanderlust running through your veins even when we were kids."
Maybe Cisco, Quinn thought. He had always talked about all the places he wanted to see when he left Idaho. Sun-drenched beaches and glittering cities and beautiful, exotic women who would drop their clothes if you so much as smiled at them.
That had been Francisco Del Norte's teenage dream. Quinn had no idea how close he had come to reaching it, since the man was wickedly skillful at evading any questions about his wandering life.
Quinn had his suspicions about what Cisco might be involved with, but he preferred to keep them to himself, especially around Easton. While she might love him and Brant like brothers, he had always sensed her feelings for Cisco were far different.
"I haven't wandered that far," he protested, instead of dwelling on Cisco and his suitcase full of secrets. "Not since I left the Air Force, anyway. I've been settled in Seattle for eight years now."
"Your dreams were always bigger than a little town like Pine Gulch could hold. I think deep down, Guff and Jo knew that, even if they were disappointed you didn't come home after you were discharged."
"They didn't need me here. They always had you to run the ranch." He sent her a careful look. "I always figured you were just fine with that. Was I wrong? You left for a while there, but you came back."
She had that strange look in her eyes again when he mentioned the eight months she had moved away from the ranch after Guff died. She didn't like to talk about it much, other than to say she had needed a change for a while. He supposed, like Cisco, she had her share of secrets, too.
"Yes. I came back," she said.
"Do you regret that?"
She raised her eyebrows. "You mean do I feel stuck here while the rest of you went off and conquered the world?"
He made a face. "I haven't completely conquered it. Still have a ways to go there but I'm working on it."
She smiled, though her expression was pensive. "I can't deny that sometimes I wonder if there's something more out there for me than a cattle ranch in Pine Gulch, Idaho. But I'm happy here, for the most part. I can't bear the thought of selling the ranch and leaving. Where would I go?"
"You could always come to Seattle. The company could always use somebody with your organizational skills."
"That world's not for me. You know that. I'm happy here."
Even as she said it, he caught the wistful note in her voice and he wondered at it. It wouldn't be easy to just pick up and make a new start somewhere. As had been the case more often than he cared to admit, he couldn't help thinking about Tess. In a few weeks, she was off to make a new start somewhere away from Pine Gulch.
As he worked on the clutch, his mind replayed that stunning kiss a few days earlier: the taste of her, like coffee and cinnamon, the sweet scent of her surrounding him, the imprint of her soft curves burning through layers of clothing.
He could go for long stretches of time without thinking about it as he went about the routine of visiting with Jo, helping Easton with odd jobs and trying to run Southerland Shipping from hundreds of miles away.
But then something would spark a memory and he would find himself once more caught up in reliving every moment of that heated embrace.
He let out a breath, grateful he had seen Tess just a few times since, when she came out to take care of Jo—and then only briefly, in the buffering presence of Easton or Jo. He had wanted to apologize but hadn't been alo
ne with her to do it and hadn't wanted to bring up the kiss in the presence of either of the other women.
That hadn't stopped him from obsessing more than he should have about her when she wasn't around, wondering which was the real Tess—the selfish girl he remembered or the soft, caring woman she appeared to be now.
The sound of an approaching vehicle drew his attention from either the mystery of Tess or the tractor's insides.
"Looks like company." Through the wide doors of the ranch's equipment shed, he watched a small white SUV approach the house. "Isn't it too early in the afternoon for any caregivers? The nurse was just here."
Easton followed his gaze outside. "I don't recognize the vehicle. Maybe it's one of Jo's friends."
They watched for a moment from their vantage point of a hundred yards away as the door opened, then a tall, brown-haired man in uniform stepped out.
"Brant!" Easton exclaimed, her delicate features alight with joy.
With a resounding thud that echoed through the building, she dropped the wrench to the concrete equipment shed floor and ran full-tilt toward the new arrival.
Quinn followed at an easier pace and arrived just as Brant Western scooped East into his arms for a tight hug.
"I'll get grease all over your pretty uniform," she warned.
"I don't care. You are a sight, Blondie."
"Back at you." She kissed his cheek and Quinn watched her dash tears away with a surreptitious finger swipe. He remembered again the little tow-headed preteen who used to follow them around everywhere. He couldn't believe her parents had let them drag her along on all their adventures but she had always been a plucky little thing and they had all adored her.
After another tight hug, Brant set her down, then turned to Quinn with a long, considering glance.
"Look at you. A few days back on the ranch and Easton has you doing all the grunt work."
He looked down at the oil and grime that covered his shirt. "I don't mind getting my hands a little dirty."
"You never did." Brant smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. He looked not just fatigued but emotionally wrung-out.
Quinn considered Brant and Cisco his best friends, his brothers in every way that mattered. And though they had never been particularly demonstrative with each other, he was compelled now to step forward and pound the other man's back.
"Welcome home, Major."
"Thanks, man."
"Now I'm the one who's going to get grease all over your uniform."
"It will wash." Brant stepped away and Quinn was happy to see he seemed a little brighter, not quite as utterly exhausted. "On the flight over, I was trying to remember how long it's been since we've been together like this."
"Four years ago January," Easton said promptly.
Quinn combed through his memory bank and realized that must have been when Guff had died of a heart attack that had shocked all of them. By some miracle, they had all made it back from the various corners of the world for his funeral.
"Too damn long, that's for sure," he said.
Brant smiled for a moment but quickly sobered. "Like the last one, I wish this reunion could be under happier circumstances. How is she?"
"Eager to see you." Easton slipped her arm through his. "She'll be so happy you could make it home."
"I can't stay long. I was able to swing only a week. I'll have my regular leave in January and will have a couple more weeks home then if I can make it back."
Jo wouldn't be around for that and all of them knew it.
Easton forced a smile. "A day or a week, it won't matter to Jo. She'll just be so happy she had a chance to see you one last time. Come on, I'll take you inside. I want to see her face when she gets a load of you."
"You two go ahead," Quinn said. "I'm almost done out here. Since I'm already dirty, think I'll finish up out here first and come inside in a few."
Brant and Easton both nodded and headed for the house while Quinn returned to the tractor. A few minutes later, he was just tightening the last nut on the job when he heard the front door to the house bang shut.
"Quinn! Come quick!"
He jerked his gaze toward the ranch house at the urgency in Easton's voice and his blood ran cold.
He dropped the wrench and raced toward the house. Not yet, he prayed as he ran. Not when Brant had only just arrived at Winder Ranch and when his people hadn't managed to find Cisco yet.
His heart pounded frantically as he thrust open the door to Jo's room. The IV pump was beeping and the alarm was going off on the oxygen saturation monitor.
He frowned. Jo was lying against her pillow but wild relief pulsed through him that her eyes were open and alert, though her features were pale and drawn.
Just now, Easton looked in worse shape than Jo. She stood by the bedside, the phone in her hand.
"I don't care what you say. I'm calling Dr. Dalton. You were unconscious!"
"All this bother and fuss," Jo muttered. "You're making me feel like a foolish old woman."
Despite her effort to downplay her condition, he could see the concern in the expressions of both Brant and Easton.
"She was out cold for five solid minutes," Easton explained to Quinn. "She was hugging Brant one moment, then she fell back against her pillows the next and wouldn't wake up no matter what we tried."
"I should have called to let you know I was on my way." Brant's voice was tight with self-disgust. "It wasn't right to rush in like that and surprise you."
"I wasn't expecting you today, that's all," Jo insisted. "Maybe I got a little excited but I'm fine now."
Despite her protestations, Jo was as pale as her pillow.
"The clinic's line is busy. I'm calling Tess," Easton declared and walked from the room to make the call.
"Tess?" Brant asked.
Just when his heart rate started to slow from the adrenaline rush, simply the mention of Tess's name kicked it right back up again.
"Tess Claybourne. Used to be Jamison. She's one of the hospice nurses."
The best one, he had to admit. After several days here, he knew all three of the home-care nurses who took turns seeing to Jo. They were all good caregivers and compassionate women but as tough as it was for him to swallow, Tess had a knack for easing Jo's worst moments and calming everybody else in the house.
Brant's blue eyes widened. "Tess Jamison. Pom-pom Tess? Homecoming queen? That Tess?"
Okay, already. "Yeah. That Tess."
"You're yanking my chain."
"Not this time." He couldn't keep the grimness out of his voice.
"She still hotter than a two-dollar pistol?"
"Brant Western," Jo chided him from her bed. "She's a lovely young woman, not some…some pin-up poster off your Internet."
When they were randy teenagers, Jo had frequently lectured them not to objectify women. Brant must have remembered the familiar refrain as well, Quinn thought, as the deep dimples Quinn despised flashed for just a moment with his smile.
"Sorry, Jo. But she was always the prettiest girl at PG High. I used to get tongue-tied if she only walked past me in the hall."
She was still the prettiest thing Quinn had seen in a long time. And he didn't even want to think about how delectable she tasted or the sexy little sounds she made when his mouth covered hers….
Easton walked in, jarring him from yet another damn flashback.
"I reached Tess on her cell phone. She's off today but she's going to come over anyway. And I talked to Jake Dalton and he's stopping by on his way up to Cold Creek."
Pine Gulch's doctor had been raised on a huge cattle ranch at the head of Cold Creek Canyon, Quinn knew.
"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital or something?" Brant asked.
Quinn and Easton exchanged glances since they had frequently brought up the subject, but Jo spoke before he could answer.
"No hospital." Jo's voice was firm, stronger than he had heard it since he arrived. "I'm done with them. I'm dying and no doctor or ho
spital can change that. I want to go right here, in the house I shared with Guff, surrounded by those I love."
Brant blinked at her bluntness and Quinn sympathized with him. It was one thing to understand intellectually that her condition was terminal. It was quite another to hear her speak in such stark, uncompromising terms about it. He at least had had a few days to get used to the hard reality.
"But it's not going to happen today or even tomorrow," she went on. "I won't let it. Not until Cisco comes home. I just need to rest for a while and then I want to have a good long talk with you about what you've been doing for the army."
Brant released a heavy breath, his tired features still looking as if he had just been run over by a Humvee.
Quinn could completely sympathize with him. He could only hope Jo held out long enough so his people could track down the last of the Four Winds.
Chapter Nine
"What's the verdict?" Jo asked. "Is my heart still beating?"
Tess pulled the stethoscope away from Jo's brachial artery and pulled the blood pressure cuff off with a loud ripping sound.
She related Jo's blood pressure aloud to Jake Dalton, who frowned at the low diastolic and systolic numbers.
"Let's take a listen to your ticker," Pine Gulch's only doctor said, pulling out his own stethoscope.
Jo responded by glaring at Tess. "Dirty trick, bringing Jake along with you."
"I told you I called him," Easton said from the doorway of the room, where she stood with Quinn and the very solemn-looking Major Western. Tess purposely avoided looking at any of them, especially Quinn.
It was a darn good thing Jake wasn't checking her heart rate right about now. She had a feeling it would be galloping along faster than one of the Winder Ranch horses in an open pasture on a sunny afternoon.
Knowing Quinn was only a few feet away watching her out of those silver-blue eyes was enough to tangle her insides and make her palms itch with nerves.
"And I told you I don't need a doctor," Jo replied.
"Be careful or you'll hurt my feelings," Jake teased.
"Oh, poof. Your skin is thicker than rawhide."
"Yet you can still manage to break my heart again and again."
A Cold Creek Homecoming Page 9
