Cathy McDavid - Rescuing the Cowboy

“Unless you have business with me or this firm, I suggest you vacate the premises immediately. I won’t tolerate anyone harassing my employees or my clients.”

“If I hear that guy’s come within a mile of Teddy, you and I are going to be revisiting our custody agreement.” Tossing Quinn one last look, Hal stormed out.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Summer’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and she held back tears. “I had no idea.”

“It’s all right,” Martin said.

She swore she could hear a silent Just don’t let it happen again tagged on the end. She didn’t blame her boss. Hal’s disruption was completely unprofessional. In the morning, at home, she’d call her personal attorney, who’d send a warning to Hal through his attorney.

Why did this have to happen now, in front of Quinn?

“Let me know if you need anything.” Quinn touched her shoulder before thanking Martin for his help and leaving.

The gesture itself was subtle yet powerful. It was also kind and delivered when Summer most needed it. She’d remember the feel of Quinn’s hand for a long time.

She quickly finished her work for the day and left a few minutes before five in order to reach the mailbox on the first floor before the final pickup.

In the parking lot, she walked to the row where her car was parked—and received her second shock in the last half hour. Quinn’s truck was parked in the neighboring spot, and he leaned against the hood, his arms folded over his chest.

* * *

SUMMER CAME TO a halt, a mixture of emotions coursing through her. She was glad to see Quinn. She’d also rather have avoided him after the scene with Hal and the threats he’d made.

Was Hal still in the parking lot, watching her from a distance?

“What are you doing here?” she asked Quinn.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He pushed off his truck and came toward her, looking heart-stoppingly gorgeous with his confident stride and cowboy hat pulled low.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

She moved her oversize purse from one shoulder to the other in a vain attempt to shield herself from the force of his potent appeal.

“You sure? You look angry, and I’m thinking it’s not just at Hal but me, too.”

“No, no. What happened isn’t your fault. It’s entirely his. He shouldn’t have said what he did.”

“Do you think he’s serious? Will he revisit your custody agreement?”

“I don’t know what’s to revisit. Technically we have joint custody, though he hasn’t taken Teddy for more than a couple of hours at a time in, well, years.” She had to stop and mentally count how many. “I can’t believe he wants full custody, and I can’t imagine he’d get it. I’m not an unfit parent.”

“You’re the furthest thing from an unfit parent there is.”

“Thank you.” She glanced away, searching for Hal’s car, then back at Quinn. “But just in case Hal is serious and means to make trouble for me...”

“Right. I should go.”

Summer instantly felt bad. “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He reached for the door handle on his truck.

“Quinn. Please.” She scrubbed her cheek with her free hand. “Hal can be difficult. And he was completely out of line. He had no business coming to my work and no right to insult you.”

“He loves his son. I get it.”

“He did love Teddy. Once.” Summer grimaced. “That wasn’t fair. But Hal’s feelings for Teddy have changed since the diagnosis. I can’t trust him. Not when I believe he’s simply trying to look good for the adoption agency. He and his wife recently applied.” She groaned. “That wasn’t fair, either.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

She laughed softly. “Maybe you should. I’m not always as nice as people think I am.”

“You have a dark side.” One corner of Quinn’s mouth curved up in the beginnings of a sexy grin. “I’m intrigued.”

He wasn’t alone.

Summer held in a sigh. He probably had no idea how often kindness and compassion peeked out from behind the rough-around-the-edges demeanor he diligently maintained.

She’d have to watch herself closely if she hoped to guard her heart.

“How’d you get to be so nice?” she asked.

“I’m not nice. Not all the time.”

She smiled. “Ah. You’re like me. You have a dark side.”

“I don’t think there was ever a doubt. I did spend the last couple years in prison.”

“But you’re innocent.”

“My temper landed me there. And don’t say I was justified,” he interrupted when she started to speak. “I could have handled the situation differently and chose not to.”

How many people did Summer know who blamed anyone or anything besides themselves for something entirely their fault? It took a lot of courage and strength of character to admit one’s mistakes. Yet another reason to like Quinn.

“You didn’t answer my question. From what I’ve heard, prison isn’t the kind of place that brings out the best in a person.” She discreetly wiped at the perspiration forming on her brow.

Apparently not that discreetly for he said, “It’s hot out here. You want to go somewhere with air-conditioning? A coffee shop or a fast food place?”

She appreciated that he didn’t offer to take her to happy hour at the closest bar. “I can’t. I have to pick up Teddy. His after-school program ends at six sharp. No being late.”

“Then you’d better get a move on.”

“I will. As soon as you tell me. Why aren’t you angry and bitter and resentful and mean? Most people would be in your circumstances.”

Removing a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket, he slipped them on. She missed being able to stare into his eyes and watch the subtle play of emotions. Quinn said a whole lot without uttering a word.

Funny, he reminded her of Teddy in that regard.

“My father taught me everything I know,” Quinn finally said.

“About rodeoing?”

“Yes, and more. He competed for a while and did pretty good. Hundreds of bull rides, maybe thousands, and he never got seriously hurt. Some broken bones, of course, and a few trips to the emergency room. It goes with the territory. But nothing that ever laid him up for long. Ten months after he retired and went to work for a construction company, he was hit by a delivery truck at the job site and thrown fifteen feet onto solid concrete. I was seven at the time, but I remember everything. The weeks in the hospital. The months of physical therapy. Endless trips to the doctor. He was never the same afterward, and neither were we.”

“I’m so sorry.” Summer wondered if he’d put on his sunglasses to hide his pain.

“Traumatic brain injury. It’s a term that covers a lot. People assumed he was crippled from the accident. Actually, the part of his brain controlling movement was affected. It sends the wrong signals to his limbs. Twenty-six years later and he still can’t read for more than a few minutes before the words become a jumble. About once a month he’ll disappear into his room for two days with a migraine no amount of medication can alleviate.”

“Wow. That must be hard. For him and your whole family.” Another reason for his acceptance of Teddy.

“My father’s the same good, gentle person he always was. Funny. Easygoing. He’d give anyone the shirt off his back. Even strangers.”

“He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“People aren’t always nice, kids especially, and they teased him unmercifully. I suppose it’s to be expected. What I can’t understand and never will is why adults tease him, too. The same people he’d lend the shirt off his back mimic his limp or halting speech when he’s not looking. Sometimes they do it when he’s looking, then slap him on the back or jab him in the ribs as if that makes it okay.”