Quinn's Honor

by Shirleen Davies

  “Why yes. He seems to be quite an accomplished rancher. One of the best I’ve seen.”

  Quinn swallowed, his jaw still working as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he held back his words, taking another bite of meat, not noticing how everyone’s eyes shifted between him and Emma. After a few awkward moments, Fletcher cleared his throat.

  “Seems you’ll be working with Bram and me tomorrow.”

  Emma’s eyes lit up as she pulled her gaze from Quinn and turned her attention to Fletcher. “I’m looking forward to it. I know there’s a lot to learn.”

  Jinny almost laughed when she saw Fletcher’s mischievous grin. “You know, lass, it could take a long time to learn everything Bram and I know.” He cast a quick look at Quinn, seeing his cousin’s face darken. “Best to plan sunrise to sunset with one of us for several weeks, maybe months.”

  “Emma will have left long before then,” Quinn grumbled, unable to swallow another bite.

  “I have no idea when I’ll be leaving. As long as I’m welcome here, there’s no reason to rush off. Right, Jinny?”

  Her friend patted her arm. “Of course, Emma. You know you’re welcome here as long as you want. And Fletch is right. You should plan to get up early each day so you can work closely with him and Bram. I’m certain Blaine plans to spend a great deal of time working alongside you, as well.”

  Quinn had heard enough. Tossing down his napkin, he pushed from the table and stood. “I’ve got an early day. Thanks for supper, Aunt Lorna.” He nodded at Ewan, then walked to the front door, not sparing a glance at Emma.

  “You’re welcome any time, Quinn,” Lorna called out as Jinny leaned toward Emma, talking in a whisper.

  “You should go after him.”

  “No, I don’t think—”

  “Emma, trust me. Go now, before he gets too close to his house.”

  Emma flashed a look at Lorna, then around the table. Taking a breath, she stood. “Would you excuse me a minute?”

  “Take your time. Jinny, Kenzie, and I can get the dishes.” Lorna’s gaze caught Ewan’s. She could tell they were both thinking the same.

  Emma grabbed a coat before dashing out the front door and hurrying down the steps. “Quinn, wait.”

  He didn’t slow his stride, making no indication he’d heard her.

  “Please, Quinn. Wait.”

  He ignored the sound of her running toward him, his mind churning with conflicting thoughts. His chest tightened at the thought of Emma spending each day with his brother or cousins, believing he should be the one teaching her what she needed to know. He should be the MacLaren she went to for advice. Pushing her away had been painful, but it had seemed right a few weeks ago. After seeing the pain his mother went through dealing with his father’s death, Quinn made the decision he wanted no part of the pain that came with loving someone the way he would a wife. There would already be enough pain if he lost any of his family. Losing Emma, though…he didn’t think he could handle it.

  Quinn lengthened his stride, wanting her to give up and turn back toward the house. Disappearing into the barn, he walked to Warrior’s stall without stopping to light the lantern. He knew Ewan’s barn like he knew his own. All he wanted was to get his horse and ride home, shut the door to his bedroom, and give his mind some rest.

  He didn’t hear any more from Emma as he put the saddle and bridle on Warrior. Grabbing the reins, he turned to leave, halting when he saw her standing at the entrance to the barn, silhouetted by the moon’s light.

  “Didn’t you hear me calling?” She was breathless, her hair falling from the bun at the back of her head, soft tendrils framing her face.

  Quinn’s breath caught at the sheer beauty before him. Emotions warred within him, the same as they’d done for weeks...no, years. He’d struggled with his feelings for her ever since his father died, always able to brush them aside, believing his decision was the best for both of them. Looking at her tentative smile, the sheen in her eyes, he wasn’t so certain now.

  Dropping the reins, he stepped toward her, not knowing what he meant to do.

  She watched his slow, determined movements, uncertain whether to stand her ground or walk to him. Taking a step forward, the moonlight illuminating him, she could clearly see the struggle on his face, the silent conflict he fought.

  “Quinn, I…”

  Stopping in front of her, he placed a finger to her lips as his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Their lips were a breath apart as he lowered his mouth to hers. There was no hesitancy as she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him down, taking all he gave her.

  Tightening his arms around her, he splayed his hands on her back, deepening the kiss. He’d never felt anything so right, her body fitting his perfectly. Her kisses set him on fire, causing his heart to pound in a wild rhythm.

  Moving a hand up, he held the back of her head steady, allowing him to devour her the way he wanted. He’d lain awake more nights than he could count, thinking of Emma, imagining the two of them together and how he wanted to love her. Stroking her back, his hand moving to settle on her hip, he could feel her tremble, sensing she needed him as much as he needed her, yet his mind continued to chastise him. Tonight, he ignored it.

  Breaking the kiss, he moved his lips across her cheek to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her soft mews told him how much she enjoyed his touch, the fevered movements of her hands on his back encouraging him to continue.

  Reclaiming her mouth, he reached down, grabbing the edge of her dress, drawing it up until his hand felt the warmth of her thigh. The touch of her heated skin, the way she squirmed against him in an attempt to get closer, caused his hand to still. If they continued, he’d end up taking her here, in the barn.

  Dropping her skirt, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, both of them panting for breath.

  “We cannot do this here, lass. I’ll not take you on the ground.” He saw the confusion on her face.

  “But I want this, Quinn. I want you to make—”

  Again, he placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it, lass.” Resting both hands on her shoulders, he took a step away. Studying her face, watching her struggle with what she perceived as another rejection, he bent down, kissing her once more before turning to pick up Warrior’s reins. Without another word, he walked past her to the entrance of the barn, then mounted.

  “Quinn?”

  He sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn’t ignore the plea in her voice. “What is it, Emma?”

  She licked her lips, taking a few steps toward him. “Do you love me?”

  Exhaling on a sigh, he tightened his grip on the reins, narrowing his gaze at her. “Aye, lass. I have for years.”

  Emma wrapped her arms around her waist, her body frozen in place as she watched Quinn rein Warrior around and ride off. He didn’t look back, leaving her to wonder if she’d heard him right. If she did, what did it mean?

  Willing her legs to move, she walked back to the house, silently stepping inside and taking the stairs with leaden legs. Entering the bedroom she shared with Jinny, Emma stepped inside, closing the door on a silent click.

  Setting down the book she’d been reading, Jinny slipped off the bed. “Did you catch him? What did he say?”

  Emma would’ve laughed if she didn’t understand the sincerity of Jinny’s questions. Pulling her arms out of her coat, she tossed it aside, then walked to the dresser. She poured water into a large bowl and picked up a towel, intending to soak it in the cool water. Then she thought of Quinn’s kiss. Setting the towel on a hook, she placed a hand to her mouth, still able to feel the vibrations from his touch. A shiver ran through her at the feelings coursing through her body as he held her, stroked her back, kissed her with such intensity, she thought she’d burst. Sucking in a shaky breath, she turned around.

  “He said he loved me.”

  “What?” Jinny’s voice was louder than intended.

  Emma moved toward her, placing a finge
r to her lips. “Shhh. They’ll hear you.”

  Jinny clamped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t intended to say it so loud. The fact is, she hadn’t expected to be so surprised. Dropping her hand, she wrapped her arms around Emma, then pulled back.

  “I knew it. I knew Quinn loved you. He has since we were in school.” Grabbing Emma’s hand, she led her to the bed. “Sit down and tell me what happened.”

  A few minutes later, Emma finished by telling Jinny what Quinn said before he rode away. Aye, lass. I have for years.

  Jinny studied her face, then cocked her head. “You don’t seem as excited as I thought you’d be.”

  “I don’t know why I feel so confused. Quinn said the words, but he didn’t seem happy about admitting it, as if it were painful to say out loud.” She glanced at Jinny. “Do you think he loves one of those women in town, but thinks he loves me, too?”

  “No. Never. Quinn isn’t like that. If he said he loves you, he does. And I’ve no doubt he knows you love him.” Jinny stood, pacing around the room a few times before coming to a halt. “You know him as well as anyone. He can be driven and hard, act like a scoundrel, then turn around and charm you. Down deep, though, he may be one of the most sensitive of the family.”

  “I don’t understand.” Emma drew her knees up, circling them with her arms. “Explain what you mean.”

  “Well, on the outside, Quinn’s tough. Maybe the toughest of all the MacLarens. I do believe he’d kill a man without a second thought if he believed his family or those he loved were in danger.”

  Emma’s brows drew together. “Any of the MacLarens would do the same.”

  “True, but they might hesitate. Not Quinn. He makes up his mind and that’s the end of it. And he never changes his mind once he’s made a decision. I don’t know if it has to do with some sense of honor or standing by his word, but it’s easier to blow up a bridge than get that man to reverse a decision.”

  “I know he’s stubborn…”

  “Stubborn doesn’t begin to describe him, Emma. It can be downright irritating. But, under it all, he has a vulnerable heart. One he wants to protect. The more I think on it, the more I believe it has to do with his da being murdered and having to watch Aunt Audrey struggle so much. He and his ma have always been close, even before Uncle Gillis died. After his death, Aunt Audrey had a difficult time, withdrawing into herself. It took her a long time to accept his death. I think a part of Quinn closed up, too, as if he’d built a wall around himself, not letting anyone outside the family get close.”

  Emma shook her head, not grasping all Jinny said. “He’s always joking around with his brothers and cousins. There are days he doesn’t seem to have any worries at all.”

  “Ach, that’s his way of hiding what he feels.” Jinny leaned against her dresser, crossing her arms. A moment later, she pushed away. “There’s one person who might say something…if he knows. He may not tell you, but he might talk to me.”

  “Who?”

  “Bram.”

  They talked into the night, plotting how to get Bram to talk. He and Jinny were close. If he knew anything about Quinn, he might confide in her. At least Jinny hoped he would.

  Emma didn’t believe it. The MacLaren men were loyal to the extreme. From years of watching them, she knew Quinn’s confidantes were Colin and Brodie…and, once he got older, maybe Bram. He was also close to Blaine, but Emma knew he didn’t confide in him like the others. That was another reason she’d never allow Blaine or any MacLaren, except for Quinn, to court her. It would split the family, create problems she wanted no part of.

  After a while, Jinny’s breathing became deep and regular. For Emma, sleep didn’t come. Her thoughts continued to return to Quinn holding her in his arms, his hands moving over her body. She’d felt odd sensations, an ache she couldn’t describe, a need causing her to squirm against him. The more he caressed her, the deeper the ache became until she’d felt desperate for something, although she didn’t know what.

  Emma and Jinny had never talked about what it would be like to be with a man. Neither had any experience. She wondered if Jinny had the same fears mixed with anticipation she did. Her heated embrace with Quinn was as far as she’d ever gone, igniting a craving she didn’t understand. Uncaring if her desires were considered wrong, she wanted to explore them with Quinn.

  Finally, her body and mind gave in to sleep, a hand resting on her chest, her body fevered from the images her vivid imagination produced.

  Quinn tossed and turned hours after midnight, still deriding himself for admitting his true feelings. It had been an impulse, one he now regretted.

  When she’d called his name, her gaze locking on his as she asked the one question he didn’t want to answer, Quinn could not refuse her. He’d spoken the truth. Now he didn’t know what to do.

  Tossing off the blankets, he poured a glass of water, emptying it in a few gulps. He couldn’t purge the way Emma felt and tasted from his mind. Their brief encounter in the Pearce barn hadn’t been as passionate. More of a tentative step toward what he knew they both wanted. If they’d gone much further tonight, he knew they would’ve ended up on the ground, coming together in a hurried coupling. He refused to take Emma that way the first time.

  Scrubbing his face with both hands, he moved to the window, scanning the sky. When he, Colin, and Brodie were younger, they’d lay outside at night, pretending they were explorers, using stars to guide them to their destination. They journeyed everywhere on those nights, fighting imaginary enemies, taking no prisoners.

  When Blaine got older, he joined them. It was then the stories became brilliant in their detail. The heroes were bigger, braver, more handsome, and unstoppable—the villains vile, cruel, and not deserving to live.

  Blaine called them the Three Musketeers after a book Uncle Ian read them. Blaine took the part of d'Artagnan, a reckless, brave, and clever young man seeking fame and fortune in Paris. Colin became Athos, the oldest, a battle-wizened musketeer who never recovered from his marriage, finding comfort in copious amounts of wine. Brodie was Aramis, a handsome young man who fought what he believed to be his true calling—religion, and women who sought his attention. Quinn became Porthos, a young musketeer fond of fashionable clothes and driven to make a fortune. Although the least intellectual of the four, Porthos compensated by using his considerable charm, strength, and cavalier attitude.

  Quinn smiled, remembering how much fun they had. Blaine sometimes read out loud, often weaving stories more adventurous than those in print. Years later, he found he missed the freedom they had and the stories with wonderful adventures. He’d once asked Blaine if he ever thought of doing something other than ranching. Colin’s brother had shrugged, shook his head, and walked away.

  Feeling better, Quinn turned back to the bed, the sight reminding him of Emma. His actions and words tonight were reckless, yet true. Worse, he knew Emma would hold them close to her heart, expecting more from him than he might be able to give. He needed time to think, sort out the mess he’d created, and make decisions he intended to keep. To achieve this, he needed to distance himself from her.

  Colin had asked if he’d be willing to stay at the old Estrada ranch with Caleb, work with the men who’d stayed. If Sarah weren’t about ready to deliver, Colin would go. He needed people he trusted to take over until the baby arrived. First light tomorrow, Quinn would ride Warrior to the new ranch.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emma winced at the bright sunlight. Pulling the covers over her head, she closed her eyes, intending to return to sleep until hard pounding on the door had her jumping out of bed.

  “Emma, are you all right?”

  She stumbled around, grabbing clothes, pulling them on as fast as possible. “I’m fine, Mrs. Maclaren.”

  “Bram and Fletcher are waiting for you in the barn. They asked me to let you know.”

  She pulled the curtain open, grimacing at the sight of the bright sun sitting midway up in the sky. Hurrying to the door, she pulled it op
en. “I’m so sorry. I must have overslept.”

  “Jinny told them you had a rough night.” Lorna turned to go downstairs, Emma following.

  “Why didn’t she wake me?”

  “You were so sound asleep, you didn’t even stir when she got up. We thought it best to let you sleep a bit longer.”

  Grabbing a hat, Emma started for the front door.

  “Oh no, lass. You don’t leave until you eat.”

  “But…” She followed Lorna into the kitchen, the aroma making her stomach growl.

  “Don’t be arguing with me, lass. You’ll eat first or you won’t be working with the horses.”

  Emma sighed and slumped into a chair, then smiled, appreciating the eggs, bacon, and toast Lorna set down in front of her.

  “You eat every bite. I know how hard those lads are going to work you today. You’ll need all of it to keep up. And, lass, you don’t have to be ladylike about it.”

  Emma laughed, scooping up a forkful of eggs and stuffing them into her mouth. She kept at it until she’d eaten every bite. Lorna picked up the plate before Emma could stand.

  “Now, off with you.”

  Paying no attention to her appearance, she dashed outside and down the steps, looking up to see Bram and Fletcher standing by the horse pasture, leaning against the fence, arms folded.

  “Glad you could join us, Emma.”

  She glanced at Bram, feeling her face redden. “I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” Fletcher asked.

  “Well, I…”

  “You’re not going to give us some long explanation?”

  “No, Fletch. It would just waste more time. Let’s get working.” She walked past them on her way to the barn.

  “Uh, lass?”

  Emma turned at Fletch’s voice. He pointed toward the pasture. “We’re working in there this morning.”

  “Of course.” She felt like such a fool, and on her first day with Bram and Fletcher. With any luck, they wouldn’t say a word to Quinn about her sleeping so late.