Linda Goodnight - Lone Star Dad

She was steamed, whether at him or Derrick or both, he couldn’t say and didn’t care. They were trouble. Pains in the neck. He didn’t need them or their intrusion on his peace and quiet.

He forced a leisurely stroll across his own front yard. The air seeped through his shirtsleeves, but he refused to rush. She made him want to get under her skin. “You know anything about feeding orphaned kittens?”

She uncrossed her arms, pursed pink lips easing open. “Did something happen to the mother?”

“Appears so.” He reached the porch and pushed open the door, motioning her inside. She crossed in front of him and he was surprised that she smelled nice, not like the antiseptic medical scent he’d expected. Something subtle, spicy and warm wrapped around his senses.

She was average height, reaching him about chin high. And beneath her coat she wore turquoise scrubs, a good color with her green eyes.

He gave an inner laugh. Stupid thought process. What did he care about the color of her eyes? He just wanted her and her little twerp out of his house.

Gena strode directly to Derrick. “You could have left a note.”

“You knew where to look.”

Derrick shrugged her off and turned back to the laptop. Gena shifted on her Crocs, uncertain. She wasn’t assertive enough with the kid. She let him get away with too much.

The room pulsed with silence, not that Quinn minded. He liked quiet. The woman and boy weren’t his concern.

He moved to the fireplace, crouching to add a log. Behind him Gena said something to Derrick about the kittens and they discussed the milk replacer.

He heard her say, “They’ll need to be fed at least every six hours.”

“I can do it. I’ll come before school and right after. I’ll even come in the middle of the night.”

Quinn pivoted around, quiet and watching.

Gena was shaking her blond head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Derrick, come on, be sensible. You have school and I have work.”

“It would only be for a little while.” His expression went from sullen to impassioned. “I can’t let them starve to death!”

She seemed to contemplate the determined, disobedient kid along with the problems inherent with feeding animals orphaned this young.

“I suppose we could take them home with us. That’s a better solution anyway. Then you won’t be over here bothering Quinn.”

“Can we?”

Quinn pushed up and away from the fireplace. “No.”

Both woman and boy turned to stare at him. “Why not?”

He hitched a shoulder, feeling obstinate. What right did she have to come into his house and dictate what became of the animals in his shed? “My cats.”

“You said they were strays.”

“They were until they took up residence in my shed.” What was he doing? Let her take them. Be rid of them. Be rid of her and her sulky kid. Get back to normal. Alone. The way he liked. “They stay.”

“Are you going to feed them?”

“We’ll work out a schedule.”

“I don’t want Derrick over here.”

“Why not?” That was what was bugging him most. Now that he’d offered the invitation, he didn’t appreciate her attitude. As if he was some kind of evil influence on children. He was the one making the sacrifice by letting Derrick invade his private sanctuary.

She parked a hand on one hip. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? First you threaten to call the sheriff if he steps foot on your land, and now you’re asking me to let him come here several times a day.”

She was really cute when she got fired up. Like a bunny rabbit on a rampage. He wanted to laugh. For the first time in a long time, he was sparring with a woman who attracted him. He even wanted to make her like him. But he was rusty in the charm department.

He knew he should give in and let her take the kittens. The last thing he needed was to have a troubled boy hanging around for two or three weeks. If the kid followed through. Which he probably wouldn’t.

“The responsibility would be good for him.”

“Come on, Gena,” Derrick wheedled. “It’ll only be for a week or two.”

Gena? Why would her kid call her by her first name? Disrespect?

The little twerp needed his head thumped.

She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder and massaged. “Honey, I know you’re worried about the kittens, but—”

Derrick yanked away, his face closed and his breath coming fast and short. “But what? You’re not going to let me do it because you don’t like Quinn?”

Quinn raised both eyebrows and pinned her with a stare. Her cheeks reddened.

“There are some things you have to trust me on. This is one of them.” She shot Quinn a snarky look. “The cats belong to Quinn. He can take care of them. Now get in the car and let’s go home.”

Derrick’s face darkened. His mouth was tight, his eyes laser hot. “I don’t have to do what you say. You’re not my mother. Stop trying to be.”

Gena’s face went whiter than wall plaster. Her pale green eyes flashed toward Quinn. “Derrick!”

Shocked, confused and feeling stupid, Quinn looked from woman to boy and back to the woman.

She wasn’t his mother? Then who was?

Chapter Four

Gena’s heart was pushing through her chest. Any minute now, she’d collapse dead on Quinn Buchanon’s rough wooden floor.

If she was fortunate. Which today she was not.

Quinn stared squint-eyed at her, the way he must have stared down offensive linemen back in the golden days. Looking angry and dangerous, he awaited an explanation.

“She’s my aunt,” Derrick said with a sneer. “Good for me.”

Quinn’s chilly gaze swung to the boy. “Your aunt.”

“Yeah. Are you deaf? What did you think? That she was my mom or something?”

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Derrick.

Mouth tight, Quinn pointed a warning at Derrick before those cold eyes swung back to her. She held them with her own green ones, fighting the rising panic, blustering her way through the awkward situation. She’d worked in trauma. She didn’t rattle easily.

“His mother died. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Quinn lifted both hands. “Right. Not my business at all.”

Gena waited for the flicker of recognition that never came. If he remembered Renae, he didn’t make the connection.

Derrick slumped to one hip. “So are you gonna let me take care of the kittens or not?”

“Not,” she managed. “And don’t give me any more nonsense. My patience is gone.”

Kittens or not, she was done here. Done.

Without waiting to see if her nephew would follow, Gena escaped Quinn’s dangerous stare before the world caved in.

* * *

Quinn squinted at the clock next to his bunk. Midnight. He’d slept two whole hours, as if his body wanted to wake and torment him for the remaining two. His arm ached, nothing new there, and sleep wouldn’t come again until after the medication. He shoved out of the bed and dressed in sweats. The kittens would be hungry soon and he didn’t expect Derrick to show, not after the fiasco this afternoon.

He felt misled and shouldn’t. He wasn’t exactly social, so he had no reason to know through the grapevine that Derrick was Gena’s nephew.

Which meant Renae was the little twerp’s mother.

It hit him then, like a gunshot. Renae was dead.

“Whoa.” Quinn scrubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw and stood stock-still for several seconds. Renae was dead. No wonder the kid was angry.

He padded on the cold wooden floor into the kitchen to prepare for the kittens’ feeding.

He wanted to ask Gena what had happened, but she would say it wasn’t his business.

It wasn’t. He didn’t want it to be. In fact, he hoped he never saw either of his problematic neighbors again. He didn’t want people infringing on his privacy and blundering around on his land. He’d bought three hundred acres of remote nothing for a reason. To be alone.