The Calm of Night (Kansas Crossroads Book 10)

by Amelia C. Adams

  This. This felt right. “Yes, Timothy, I will.”

  He came to his feet in a flash and scooped her into his arms. “Thank you! The little house where I live is just that—little—but as soon as I can, I’ll meet with someone about adding on to it. It’s got its own charm, and I have no doubt that you’ll make it even more charming just by entering it.”

  She looked into his eyes. They were filled with so much joy, and it made her joyous to know that she had put that look there. “Aren’t you going to kiss me? I believe that’s the traditional way to celebrate an engagement, isn’t it?”

  “Well, I was going to, and yes, I would like to, but then I had the most horrible thought—what if kissing brought on another bout of coughing? That wouldn’t be comfortable for you. But then I had an even more horrible thought. What if you coughed while we were kissing? That certainly wouldn’t be comfortable for me. So I decided that maybe waiting a few days would be better. You know, just safer all the way around.”

  She laughed out loud. “All right, I supposed we can delay our first kiss. I won’t enjoy the wait, though, just so you know.”

  “I do appreciate your patience.” He squeezed her hand. “And I can’t wait to slip a ring on this finger, although I suppose it will have to wait until I get that addition made. I’ll find someone who can work fast, and who doesn’t mind the snow. And I can’t tell you how glad I am that I spoke to you before Gilbert Howard did.”

  She tugged his hand to lead him up toward the hotel. “You didn’t.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t speak to me before Gilbert did. He proposed, and I turned him down.”

  “You did?”

  She stopped walking and put one hand on her hip. “Are you going to question everything I say?”

  “I’m not trying to question you. I’m just surprised. Why did you turn him down?”

  Now she put her other hand on her other hip. “Because I’m in love with you, silly.”

  “You’re in love with me?”

  “I just agreed to marry you . . .”

  A tinge of pink colored his cheeks. “I know. It’s just nice to hear.”

  “Then I suppose you’ll have to hear it again. I’m in love with you, Timothy Hancock, and I turned Gilbert down because I knew I could never be happy with him while having feelings for you. And, of course, I hoped that you’d propose, and that would be very awkward if I was engaged to someone else.”

  A grin covered his face. “Are you about to cough?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Because I’ve changed my mind.” With that, his two arms came around her, and he pulled her close for a kiss. And she had to admit, being kissed when she expected it would have been nice, but it was even nicer to be kissed when she had no idea at all that it was coming.

  The End

  Have you had the chance to read Whiskey and Women, a new contemporary Western romance by Amelia C. Adams? Here’s a sneak peek …

  Chapter One

  “Yes, sir. I understand that. However . . .” Meg took a deep breath as the voice on the other end of the line interrupted her yet again. She’d never thought of herself as the type to ruffle easily. In fact, she was rather good at moderating disputes and coming to mutually beneficial resolutions. That’s what made her an effective lawyer. Right now, though, she was dangerously close to losing her cool. “Yes, I understand, but if you’ll recall, that’s not what we agreed . . . All right. You too.”

  She hung up the phone and leaned back in her desk chair, trying not to let loose a stream of words she knew she’d regret saying. What was the point of being a junior partner in a law firm when one of the senior partners came in and snatched a case out of her hands and renegotiated the whole thing and cost her client hundreds of thousands of dollars in the settlement and made Meg look incompetent in front of everyone? Not for the first time, she thought about starting up her own firm. She’d need to arrange a partnership buyout, but she didn’t think that would be too difficult.

  A rapid knocking sounded on her door. She glanced at her clock—it was midmorning, and her next appointment wasn’t until eleven thirty. “Come in?”

  Kate, her best friend, stuck her head into the office, her curly blonde hair bouncing around her face. “Hey, sorry to bother you. Got a minute?”

  Interesting. Kate only stopped by Meg’s work if there was an emergency, and she hadn’t even been around much at all over the last few weeks. This was a welcome surprise, although it made Meg worry that something was wrong. “Of course. What’s going on?”

  Kate practically bounced over to the desk. “Look what I have!” She held up a large manila envelope and waved it back and forth.

  “Um, I can’t look at it when it’s moving around in front of my eyes. You’re making me dizzy.” Thank goodness—Kate looked happy. It must not be bad news.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Kate put the envelope on the polished surface of the desk and stood there expectantly, her eyes shining. “Open it!”

  Meg couldn’t tell anything from the outside of the envelope—it obviously hadn’t come through the mail—so she flipped it over and pulled out the contents. Two first-class airline tickets, a brochure, some typed-up papers that looked like an itinerary—“What is all this?”

  Kate bounced again. “So, you know that charity auction I went to last night? The one you couldn’t go to because you were too busy with all your paperwork?” She made air quotes with her fingers, like she thought Meg had just been making excuses. Okay, maybe that was true, but still. “I won! Look—a weeklong trip for two to Nashville, where we’ll spend several hours with country music singing sensation Quinn Dawson!”

  Meg raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘we,’ Kate?”

  “Well, of course you’re coming with me. You can’t tell me no—not after everything I’ve done for you this year. It’s the ultimate reward—I’ll be in my favorite place, meeting my favorite singer, with my best friend. Please?” Kate clasped her hands under her chin and batted her eyelashes dramatically.

  Meg sighed. Kate had done a lot for her that year—cheering her up after some rough first dates, helping her move into a new apartment and painting the entire thing, talking her through countless difficult days at the office. Kate probably knew more about the interoffice politics of this firm than Meg did, and Kate didn’t even work here.

  “You don’t want to take Kenny?”

  Kate waved that off. “This isn’t a husband kind of trip. This is a girls’ trip.” She took a step closer to the desk. “I know you don’t like country music and that you’d probably rather spend your time holed up with your paperwork instead, but please? This really means a lot to me. All expenses paid, Meg. Hotel, airfare, food—the works.”

  Meg leaned back in her chair and studied her friend. It felt like there was more going on here than just a fun getaway, but she knew Kate wouldn’t spill until she was ready. “Okay, I’ll go. I have some vacation saved up. What are the dates again?”

  Kate gave a little squeal and tapped the envelope. “Everything’s in the packet.”

  “I’ll put in for the time off, but please don’t ask me to enjoy this, all right? Being with you will be fun, of course, but the rest of it—the studio visit and so forth—it’s just not me.” Meg glanced down the itinerary again. “Dinner with Quinn Dawson. A Quinn Dawson concert. A tour of Quinn Dawson’s ranch. That’s a whole lot of Quinn Dawson.”

  “I know. Isn’t it great?” Kate wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks, Meg—this is going to be the best.”

  Meg gathered up the packet materials and slid them into the envelope. “You’ll probably want this back. Plane tickets and so forth.”

  “Well, not really tickets—vouchers for tickets.”

  “Whatever. Don’t lose it.”

  “Thanks.” Kate hugged the envelope to her chest. “Call me after work and we can talk it all out, okay? What we’re going to wear, what we need to get—s
hopping! This just gets better and better. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Meg watched Kate leave the office, an amused expression on her face. She had no doubt that if the itinerary included getting a Quinn Dawson tattoo, her friend would be totally up for that too.

  ***

  Quinn Dawson sat up a little straighter in the uncomfortable chair and tried to focus on what the doctor was saying. He was pretty sure the man was using all the medical jargon he could in an attempt to intimidate the family, and that didn’t feel too good to Quinn. After another moment, he lifted one hand, and the doctor paused.

  “Yes, Mr. Dawson?”

  “Let’s cut to the chase. If I understand you correctly, you’re saying that my mother is going to continue to deteriorate, and there’s nothing more to be done except keeping her safe. Is that about right?”

  “I believe you’ve summed that up rather well.” The doctor took off his glasses and laid them on the table, then threw an apologetic glance at Quinn’s father, who’d been sitting quietly during the whole meeting. “I don’t believe that your father is in a position to take care of her by himself anymore. She needs round-the-clock professional care, and if your father continues on as he has, he’ll find himself losing what good health he still has remaining.”

  Quinn turned to his father. He could see what the doctor meant—Ray Dawson had always been a hard worker, cut from granite, no nonsense in all the best ways. Now he looked worn out, tired, older than he really was. There was nothing easy about being the primary care giver for someone with dementia, but Ray had refused to let anyone else take on that responsibility. Maybe now he’d see the need to share the burden.

  “Dad? What do you think?”

  Ray shook his head. “Been married to that woman for forty years. She stuck by me through thick and thin, losing your sister, almost losing my business—how can I turn my back on her now?”

  Quinn studied his father’s face before turning back to the doctor. “What about a long-term care facility that will allow them to stay together? Like an assisted living apartment complex or something?”

  The doctor put his glasses back on and closed the folder in front of him. His body language couldn’t have made it any more obvious that he was done with this conversation. “My secretary can give you a list of care centers on your way out. It’s your decision, but one I recommend you not take lightly. Placing both of them . . .” He let the rest of his thought dangle, whatever it was.

  “There’s nothing about this entire situation that we’ve taken lightly,” Quinn said, feeling heat rise in his chest. “What you’re seeing here is a reluctance for a man to leave his wife to the care of others. Is that such a rare thing?”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a solution. If you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.” The doctor stood, buttoned his suitcoat, and held out his arm to indicate that they should leave.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Quinn said as they walked toward the reception area. “It’s like he didn’t want to help you and Mom stay together.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s get that list and start making some phone calls,” Ray said. “I’d like to get back to your mother as soon as possible—she wears Mrs. Armstrong out these days.”

  They collected the list of recommended care centers, then Quinn pulled his baseball cap low over his eyes and put on a pair of sunglasses. It wasn’t the most unique disguise, but it seemed to be enough to keep the paparazzi off his back when he had to go somewhere. It probably helped that he was wearing sneakers instead of his usual boots, too—those and his cowboy hat would draw too much attention, even in Nashville, where that was pretty much the dress code.

  They climbed into Ray’s blue pickup truck and hit a drive-through on the way back to the house. Annabeth Dawson wasn’t eating like she ought to be, but if there was one thing she’d always go for, that was a chocolate milkshake.

  Mrs. Armstrong met them at the door. “I’m sorry, Ray, but she’s a little agitated.”

  “That’s all right. Thank you—I appreciate it.”

  Mrs. Armstrong gave a quick nod and slipped out the front door, pulling it closed behind her. She went way above and beyond the call of neighborly duty, and Quinn had noticed how tired she seemed. She wasn’t trained for this—so few everyday people were trained for this. It was time to bring in the professionals.

  Quinn set the food bags down on the kitchen table and listened to his father talk to his mother through the bathroom door. He’d set his parents up in this condo shortly after his first album came out—he’d had almost instant success with it after years of playing in bars and paying his dues, and there was nothing he wanted more than to give his parents a better life. What he’d thought was a nice gift had turned into a prison of sorts, however, as his mother’s health deteriorated and his father spent countless hours worrying about her. Trips to the doctor’s office were just about the only outings Ray got.

  “Annabeth, Quinn brought you a milkshake,” Ray was saying. “It’s chocolate.”

  The bathroom door opened a crack, and she slowly opened it farther to glance toward the kitchen. Quinn held out her milkshake cup and grinned, and after another moment of hesitation, she shuffled into the kitchen, her slippers making scuffing sounds on the tile.

  Moments later, everyone was settled in at the table, each with their meals. Quinn all but dove into his bacon cheeseburger—it had been a long day, and breakfast had been eaten on the run what felt like a million hours ago. Stress always made him hungry, and worrying about his parents was a special kind of stress.

  “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?” Ray asked.

  Quinn grabbed a napkin and sopped up the juices that were running down his chin. “I have to be in the studio at eight, but they swear I’ll be done by noon. We’re just working on one song this time. What did you have in mind?”

  Ray glanced over at his wife, who was contentedly engrossed in her shake. “I thought I’d make some calls this afternoon while she sleeps, see if I can make appointments to go check out these places. Could use your support.”

  “Want me to sit with Mom or come with you?”

  “Come with me, please. I don’t want to place her anywhere, and if this choice is left to me, it’ll never get made. I’ll see if Mrs. Armstrong is up for another go-round.”

  “Of course I’ll come, Dad.” Quinn reached out and gave his dad’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be here by twelve thirty.”

  “Thanks, Quinn. I . . . couldn’t do this without you.”

  Quinn gave a sharp nod and finished his burger, then chased it with several swigs of Coke. Neither of them wanted this, but if they had to go through it, at least they had each other.

  If you’d like to purchase Whiskey and Women, click here.

  Please join me at www.ameliacadams.com to learn more about me, sign up for my newsletter, and stay on top of news and upcoming releases, and follow me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Amelia-C-Adams/584870491648423.

  The Kansas Crossroads Series:

  A New Beginning

  A Free Heart

  The Dark and the Dawn

  A Clean Slate

  A Clear Hope

  The Whisper of Morning

  A Careless Wind

  A Narrow Road

  The Bitter and the Sweet

  And many more to be announced …

  The Nurses of New York series:

  Sea of Strangers

  Cause of Conflict

  And many more to be announced …

  The American Mail-Order Brides series:

  Hope: Bride of New Jersey

  Tabitha: Bride of Missouri

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