by Peggy Jaeger
“Here,” he said, dismounting. “We can let the horses roam for a bit. They won’t get far. The trees will keep them inside the perimeter.”
Quentin let go of his reins and helped Moira dismount. He gripped her about her waist when she threw one leg over the saddle, and, with her hands on his shoulders, he lifted her to the ground. The feel of her thin ribs under his hands and the way her small hips flared outwards beneath his grip thrilled and tortured him in equal degrees. She felt as delicate as porcelain, but he knew she was as strong as the horses they’d ridden on. When she reached the ground, the subtle floral, sweet smell of her perfume tickled his senses, making him want to pull her in closer. He fisted his hands after he let her go in an attempt to keep them from reaching out and pulling her back into his arms.
“I’ve got some chow and some water,” he told her, noticing the slight tremor in his hands as he pulled his backpack from his shoulders. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I guess I should eat something,” she said. “I didn’t have anything this morning before I headed out and you’ve been working me like a dog for the past two hours.”
His lips twitched as he stared down at her. “If you think that’s working like a dog, wait until you see what I’ve got planned for you when we get back.”
“I shudder to think. What did you bring for lunch?”
“I packed my usual.”
Quentin watched her eyes twinkle like lights on a Christmas tree. “Don’t tell me you’ve got peanut butter and banana on whole wheat in your backpack?”
His grin came fast. “You’ve got a good memory, M.”
“Good memory has nothing to do with it. You’re as predictable as rain.”
When her lips lifted enticingly at the corners, he imagined how they would taste against his own. “If you’re really nice I’ll share some with you.”
Her smile lost some of its luster while her hand drifted to her abdomen.
“Of course, my appetite is always as big as a horse’s,” he said, ignoring the motion and hating he had to. “But I’ll split one with you so you don’t faint on me.”
Her grimace was replaced with a crooked smirk as heady as the smile had been.
“I wouldn’t want to deprive you,” she said. “But, I guess I can manage half.”
They spread the blanket onto the grass under a large shady tree. Moira smoothed the edges and they sat.
From the backpack, Quentin pulled a bottle of water and tossed it to her. Then he unwrapped one of the sandwiches, split it into two pieces, and offered her one of them.
For a brief second, he was afraid she might not eat it. Her color turned a dusky gray as she lifted the sandwich to her mouth and a fine sheen of moisture popped out over her upper lip. Taking one, tiny bite, she chewed it slowly, several times, and then washed the small piece down with a large gulp of the water. By the time she’d finished it, Quentin had already eaten his half and another entire sandwich.
“Your appetite certainly hasn’t changed since you were nine years old,” she told him.
“If anything, it’s grown.” He polished off half the bottle of water in one long draught.
Moira separated another small piece of the sandwich and chewed it several times, as she had just moments before.
Quentin shook his head. “If you eat like that all the time, it’s no wonder you’re so skinny.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t skinny.” One delicate eyebrow shot dangerously high on her forehead.
His eyes took a lazy stroll from the top of her head down over her small shoulders, moved slowly across the gentle swell of her breasts, and then down to her waist where his gaze settled on her legs tucked underneath her, Indian style. He was charmed when her cheeks turned pink at his perusal.
“You could stand to gain a few pounds.” When his eyes came back up to hers he added, “Stick with me and I’ll have you back to fighting weight in no time.”
Before she could respond, a huge yawn broke from her. Her cheeks reddened even deeper. “Sorry.”
“Like I said before, everybody’s tired.” Quentin told her. “Why don’t you lay back and take a snooze for a few minutes?”
“Don’t we have to get back?”
“You forget M, I’m the boss. I write my own time card.”
“Even so.” She leaned back against the tree stretching her legs out in front of her, “You still need to get back for the other horses.”
“Connor is there until five, and I’ve got my beeper if he needs me,” he told her, with a shrug. “Besides.” He scooted next to her, his own back nestled against the tree; long legs extended out across the blanket and folded his arms across his chest. “I could use a little snooze myself.”
Moira closed her eyes and, within seconds she was fast asleep. A small, satisfied smile on his face, Quentin joined her.
****
Sometime later, he awoke. His heartbeat tripped when he felt Moira’s head leaning against his shoulder. He wanted so badly to reach out an arm, wrap it around her, and pull her closer. But he didn’t dare. He didn’t want to wake her, knowing even a short nap would probably be beneficial. The small purple smudges under her eyes and the easy way she’d fallen asleep with no provocation, proved to him how badly she needed to rest. He sat there, with the love of his life sound asleep on his shoulder, thrilled and worried at the same time.
So far his plan had worked. Moira had accepted his plea for help, and he’d been able to spend time alone with her. He wanted her to get used to him, get used to the feeling of being together again and to see how happy she could be with him. She needed to realize her life would be so much better if she stayed home this time.
He knew his would be.
The feel of her warm gentle breaths as they blew across his neck in sleep touched his heart. He knew she was comfortable with him, as comfortable as with any of her family members. They’d been a part of one another’s lives forever. He could still read her moods in the arch of an eyebrow, the flip of a hand. She was more than physically sick, that was obvious. Something, some unspoken event, had scarred her emotionally and mentally. His desire to find out what, warred with the longing to keep her mind diverted from it, just to see her relaxed and happy. If able, he would have let them spend the entire afternoon just riding, talking, and being with one another.
Her face was so tranquil as she slept, her unlined skin soft and worry-free. But even in sleep one hand laid across her abdomen, the fingers spread, as if to guard it. Quentin banked the urge to grab her hand and kiss away the tension, ease the fear he knew it protected.
The sound of one of the horses whinnying startled her awake.
Moira shot up too quickly and fell into Quentin’s lap. His hands came out to steady her and he softly gripped her upper arms.
“It’s okay.”
She nodded, blushing. “Sorry. For a second I didn’t know where I was. How long was I out?”
Quentin winked up at the sun and measuring the distance of the shadows on the ground said, “about an hour and a half.” A quick glance at his watch confirmed the time.
“Why did you let me sleep so long?” She sprinted upright swiping at her jeans just as her cell phone pinged in her pocket. An annoyed frown crossed her face when she read the display.
“I’m sorry, I need to take this.”
She moved toward the shoreline, telling him she wanted privacy.
Quentin wondered who she spoke with when her small shoulders suddenly sagged downward. She wasn’t talking, just listening to the caller.
The call lasted no more than two minutes. When she put the phone back in her pocket and turned to him, whatever relief he’d been able to bring her for the past few hours had vanished. Her color had paled; her lips were tight and no longer hinting at a smile. She walked back to the blanket as if she were walking to a funeral, hands slung in her pockets, shoulders down, a look of melancholy in her stance.
“I need to get home,” she said flatly. “Sorry.”
Moira shook her head and said, “I’ve got a few calls I need to make.” She massaged a hand across her midsection, her mouth turned downward.
He debated with himself about taking her in his arms and kissing the anxiety away, but he knew she wasn’t ready for it. Not now, and not from him. Moira wouldn’t know how to take his concern and the last thing he wanted to do was scare or confuse her. She had enough, apparently, to worry about at present.
“Okay. It’s time to get back anyway.” He whistled for the horses and they trotted up at his call. Quentin folded the blanket, tossed it on his horse’s back, and grabbed Moira’s bridle leads.
“Here, I’ll help you up.”
He took her hand as she put one leg in the stirrup and he held on to her while she mounted. He was as acutely aware of the softness of her skin against his as he had been with her head against his shoulder. With a great deal of effort, he swallowed the desire showering through him, mounted his steed, and with a few clicks of his tongue they were off.
“You get some bad news with your call?” he asked after a few minutes. His voice betrayed none of the worry dragging through him.
Moira shook her head. “Just some unsettled business. I left the tour before the next leg started, and the company didn’t have time to get a replacement for me.”
“You getting pressure to come back?”
Her sigh was long and heartbreaking to hear. “It’s complicated, Q.”
“Complicated how? You haven’t had a real break in what I can figure is about four years. Don’t you deserve one?”
Moira’s hands tightened on the reins, her pale color going a little gray. “There are…other concerns as well.”
“What kind of concerns?”
“I don’t want to get into it, Q.”
Her tight lips and ramrod straight posture in the saddle weren’t just habit from being a good horsewoman, Quentin knew. Whatever difficulty she’d had before coming home had now intruded on her here.
And she wasn’t happy about it.
“Okay. I’ll back off.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed her glance over at him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the landscape as they trotted by. The soft sigh she expelled told him she was thankful he hadn’t pushed, despite wanting to so badly. “But don’t think you’re getting out of working for me,” he said, slanting her a lazy look, his lips tugging at the corners.
Her brow furrowed and a tiny spark of annoyance worked its way down her face. “You can be impossibly bossy,” she said. “Know that?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, and was pleased to see some color had returned to her hollow cheeks. “Well, I am the boss, M.”
They trotted the rest of the way, each silent. When they were back at the equine center, Moira dismounted and walked her charge back to its stall where she began to cool the animal down.
“Here,” Quentin said taking the saddle from her. “I can groom her for you. I know you want to get home.”
She swiped at his helpful hand and, with heat in her tone, uncharacteristically snapped at him. “I can do it.”
Surprised at her outburst, he kept his voice steady. “I know you can, M, but I also know you want to get home.”
“I’ve never shirked a cooling in my life,” she said, her voice rising.
“And you’re not shirking one now.” He ran a hand down her arm and had to check himself from responding to the way she recoiled slightly at his touch. “Let me do this for you. Please.”
Her shoulders relaxed at the plea and she let go. “You really don’t mind?” She bit her bottom lip and waited for his answer.
“Nah. I’ve got time and I think I’ve worked you hard enough for your first day. Did you drive here?”
She nodded. “Mom loaned me her car, and I just now realized I told her I would be back before lunch. I’m surprised she hasn’t called me wanting it back.”
“She probably knew once you got here you wouldn’t want to leave.” He smiled down at her and swiped a hand down her hair, noting the little flinch when he did. “Serena has always known what a softie you are. She probably figured the minute you got here you’d want to stay.” His smile broadened. “Especially when she knew you were going to be seeing me.”
One delicate eyebrow shot almost to Moira’s hairline and Quentin’s lips itched like crazy to kiss it.
And the rest of her.
“Bossy and conceited,” she told him. But the corners of her lips were struggling not to lift when she said it.
He continued to smile down at her. “Go on home. I’ll see you tonight.”
To the confusion on her face, he asked, “Isn’t tonight your welcome home dinner?”
Rolling her eyes Moira put her hands on her hips and said, “I completely forgot. Do you know who’s coming?”
“Your family, my parents, my brothers and me. That’s it for tonight,” he said with a shrug. “The big party is planned for Saturday night.”
Now she groaned out loud. “I asked Mom not to do a big Cleary shindig.”
Quentin’s laugh was quick. “You’re better off telling the sun not to shine, M. If there’s one thing your mom loves, it’s a party for one of her kids. Don’t begrudge her the happiness. She hasn’t seen you in a while and wants to show you off. Her baby girl.”
“I’m not begrudging her the party,” she said. “And I’m not a baby.”
The whine in her voice had him biting his lips to keep from laughing. “You’ll always be her baby girl, M. Just suck it up, because you know it’s true.”
“I just don’t want to be around hordes of people right now.”
“Not hordes. Just family. People who love you and want to see you.”
He was about to add, “People who’ve missed you like crazy,” but Connor interrupted them.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but the Jacob’s gelding seems a little colicky,” he told Quentin. “What would you like me to do?”
“Give me a sec.”
Connor nodded and left them.
“I’d better go,” Moira said. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
With a nod, Quentin smoothly pulled her into his arms, noting this time she didn’t startle, ran a hand down her back, and kissed her temple. “It’ll all work out, M. Don’t worry.”
When she pulled out of the embrace she nodded as well.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she told him.
****
Serena was in the kitchen, baking, when Moira came through the door.
“Mom, I’m sorry I was gone so long. I hope you didn’t need the car.”
Serena turned to her. “Well, you’ve got some color back in your cheeks and that warms my heart,” she said, making Moira smile. “I didn’t need the car. I’ve been baking all morning and didn’t need to go out. Did you have a good time?”
“The additions to the clinic are amazing,” she said, with a nod. “I can’t believe all the improvements and I can’t believe it’s all because of Pat. I never dreamed he was so business savvy.”
Moira saw maternal pride dance on Serena’s face. “Your brother has always been a go-getter,” she said. “But it’s not all his doing. Quentin’s made a remarkable addition to the clinic with the equine center. Did you get a chance to see it?”
“I got the grand tour, and I got myself a job. For the time being, anyway.”
As her daughter’s eyebrow had a tendency to do, Serena’s left eyebrow rose to her hairline. “Oh? What kind of job?”
Quickly, Moira explained how she’d spent her morning. “I came home because I’ve got some calls I need to make. I’m going to run up to my room for a few minutes. Do you mind? When I’m done I’ll come down and help.”
“Baby, do what you hav
e to do. You know I love cooking as much as I love painting. And as much as I love all of you,” she added with a smile.
Impulsively, Moira crossed to her mother, grabbed her shoulders, and hugged her. “Thanks Mom. I’ll be down in a few.”
****
Moira flopped down on her bed, her hands shaking so badly she needed to put the phone down before it fell from her grasp to the floor. The nagging ache in her stomach had been quelled for a few hours but was back full force since the completion of her last call.
How had this all gone so wrong?
She rubbed a hand across her midsection. Seconds later, she was overcome with such a seizure of pain she cried out, unable to stifle the sound.
In seconds, Serena was in the room. “Moira?”
She was on her side, her legs drawn up to her chest, sobbing. Serena sat down next to her daughter and gathered her into her arms. “Baby, what’s wrong? Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Moira’s body shook with sobs. She looked up into her mother’s troubled face, and felt a quick, hard stab of guilt at putting the unease there.
“I heard you scream,” Serena said rubbing her daughter’s back. “I couldn’t for the life of me think what happened.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, Mom. My stomach just hurts so much. It was doing a little better before, but it’s started up again.”
Serena’s lips thinned into a hard, tight line. “You need to see a doctor, young lady, and I won’t take no for an answer. In fact, I already made you an appointment.”
“Mom, no. You know I hate doctors.”
“Get over it. I made you an appointment tomorrow morning with the new family practice doc. She’s young, out of school for about two or three years, and I’ve heard nothing but good things about her from people in town. I’m taking you. No arguments.”
In her entire life, Moira had never been able to fight against her mother. She knew she needed to see someone and find out what to do about these pains. It made it a little easier to acquiesce. The fact the doctor was a woman didn’t hurt either.
