Jennifer Greene - One Tiny Miracle - Branded with his Baby / The Baby Bump / An Accidental Family

“No. Jake and I hauled it out here. This building is in the best condition of all of them, so we chose it to fix up for a line shack. You never know when an electrical storm or a blizzard might blow up and it’s good to have a place to shelter or even spend the night, if need be. We have candles, kerosene lanterns, firewood and some canned goods and bedding all stored in the back.”

“This is neat,” she said as she gazed around her at the rows of dusty shelves lining the walls and a long counter running across the back. “We can leave the door open for light and it will almost be like we’re eating outside.”

Quint slanted her a rueful glance. “Unfortunately we only have an outhouse for a bathroom. It’s behind this building just in case you need it. But there’s piped water from a nearby spring for washing. You’ll find it at the side of the building near a wooden water trough.”

“Thanks,” she told him. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned he had sandwiches laid out on the tabletop, along with four cans of beverages. In the middle of the table, a fat candle held by a shallow jar lid was now lit and the glow of the flame helped chase away the gloom of the threatening rain clouds. She’d been present at a few candlelight dinners before, but none had been quite like this. And Maura realized the quaintness of their surroundings had only a small part to play in the specialness of the meal. It was Quint who was making it all so unique. Quint who was making her very aware of their isolated setting.

He helped her into one of the chairs and as she thanked him, he said, “I’d better warn you that the food is sorta sloppy. I’m not too good with kitchen duties.”

“I can eat most anything,” she told him. “And I brought a few things, too. Potato chips, candy bars and brownies.”

“That sort of bad stuff? From a nurse?” He chuckled as he took the chair across from her. “Where did you pick up such nasty habits?”

Laughing along with him, she said, “S-s-shh. Don’t tell anyone, but we nurses don’t always follow doctor’s orders.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now I won’t feel guilty about stuffing myself.”

Quint passed the sandwiches and drinks between them and they began to eat.

After Maura had downed a few bites in silence, his expression turned rueful.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. “That the sandwiches are soggy?”

“I couldn’t have made better,” she assured him with a smile, then added thoughtfully, “I was just trying to picture the people who used to live in this little town. I wonder if there were whole families who made their home here? Babies born here?”

He shrugged as he reached for one of the beer cans. “Probably. I think there was a population of about three hundred at one time. There’s another area just to the south of these buildings where you can find old foundations and other signs of houses. Gramps says not long after he purchased the land a fire swept through here, so the home sites might have burned. Thankfully that was many years after this little community died.”

She sighed wistfully. “Well, when the place was booming it must have been an exciting time for people. Each morning they probably climbed out of bed thinking today they’d discover the mother lode.”

He leveled a suggestive grin at her. “Why, Maura, you sound like a gamble excites you.”

He excited her. And he was definitely a gamble, she thought as her heart danced rapidly against her ribs.

“Funny you should say that. I’m considered the cautious little mouse of my family.” Her gaze fluttered awkwardly down to the planked tabletop. “And I suppose I am. I’ve never been one to play the odds—at anything. Out at the mine I told you I wasn’t a scaredy cat, but that was sort of an exaggeration. I’d like to be more adventurous, but I guess I’m just a sure-thing sort of person.”

“You got married,” he said softly. “I’d say you were adventurous.”

A cynical grimace tightened her lips. “Marriage isn’t supposed to be a risk. At least, I thought it wasn’t. I figured I knew all the important things there were to know about Gil. But I guess a person sometimes takes chances when she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.”

The corners of his mouth tilted into a faint smile. “That might be a good thing. Otherwise, we’d all be living in bubbles.”

Normally, Maura didn’t eat mayonnaise, but as she took another bite of the sandwich that Quint had made, she was surprised at how much she liked the taste. She was even more surprised at how much she was beginning to like him. Which was something completely separate from being swept away by his kiss.

“What about you, Quint? Are you a man who takes chances?”

“Only when I need to.”

His answer was evasive, but Maura didn’t prod him. Today was the most special day she’d had in a long, long time. There was no need for serious talk. This was a day to simply enjoy.

“That was a silly question from me,” she said after a moment. “Ranchers take risks every day. Dad always says that raising horses is like raising children—the job is hard as hell and you never know if any of them will turn out to be worth a damn.” She let out a short laugh. “But he loves us all—the horses and the kids—no matter if we aren’t stars.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Surely you don’t think you’re any less important than your siblings?”

One of her shoulders lifted and fell. “Did I say that?”

“Not in so many words. But there was something in your voice.” He reached across the table and touched his fingers to hers. “I sometimes get the feeling, Maura, that you’re down on yourself.”

The touch of his fingers was like a branding iron, sizzling a fire right through her hand and straight up her arm. He couldn’t possibly know how shaky and vulnerable he made her feel.

“My sisters are special. They’re both very beautiful and spunky. They go at life at full speed. I’m…just drifting.”

He frowned at her. “That’s plain wrong. You have a meaningful, admirable profession. You’re young and intelligent and very lovely. And you’re not drifting—unless you consider seeing after Gramps trivial.”

Surprise parted her lips. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean that at all. Abe is very important to me. I just meant that personally I’m drifting.” She sighed with a bit of frustration, then tried her best to smile. “I’m not down on myself, Quint. Just a little disappointed in the mistakes I’ve made.”

Unable to bear the burning touch of his fingers any longer, she pulled her hand away and reached for a plastic bag filled with brownies.

“Aren’t we all?” he murmured.

Her eyes locked with his and suddenly her heart lifted and a soft smile curved her lips.

“Yes,” she said huskily, then deciding it was time to change the subject completely, joked, “Is there a coffee house down the street? Coffee would be great with all these desserts we have.”

“We don’t have to go down the street, my lady. We can make coffee right here.” His eyes twinkled as he popped the last of a sandwich into his mouth and rose to his feet. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

She followed him to where the long counter separated the front of the room from the back. Behind the L-shaped barrier she was surprised to see a cast-iron potbellied stove and a small metal cabinet filled with canned food and basic staples for cooking. On the opposite side of the space, jammed in an out-of-the-way corner, an army cot covered with a faded Navajo blanket served as a bunk. Clearly, Quint had taken special efforts to make the place comfortable for him and the hired hands.

With his money, he could have gone overboard and rebuilt the whole structure. He could have supplied it with electricity, a bathroom and all the comforts of home. Instead, he’d chosen to keep the old building simple and full of character. He didn’t need or want everything he had to be new or perfect. And she realized she liked that very much about him.