Cathy McDavid - Rescuing the Cowboy

“He’s not a stranger. He works here. He’s fixing the loose railing.”

“Come on.” The instructor was having none of it. She led the pair away, her scowl telegraphing her thoughts loud and clear. She didn’t want the students having anything to do with Quinn. He supposed she’d heard about him. News traveled fast, titillating news that much faster.

Lizzie ignored her instructor and, glancing backward, waved at Quinn. He raised his hand in return, then let it drop.

Moments like this one never lasted. Maybe someday, if he was lucky, his life would return to normal and his daughter would be a large part of it. He wasn’t holding his breath.

“Somehow I knew I’d find you here.”

He spun to discover his cousin Josh standing there, Cara with him. Both of them were staring.

“Where else would I be? You said the arena railing had come loose.” Quinn didn’t wait around to be told what to do next. Rather, he took it upon himself to handle the task.

“You might be getting ready for the party,” Josh said. “It starts in an hour.”

Only then did Quinn notice the two of them were dressed up. “Plenty of time.”

Cara hitched her chin toward the end of the arena where Lizzie and the students were completing their session. “Admit it. You like watching the kids.”

“Just familiarizing myself with the therapy program.”

She didn’t call him out on his partial fib. “Lizzie’s pretty cute.”

“A little Down syndrome doesn’t hold her back.”

“We saw you with her earlier. You were great. You’re going to do well here.” Cara nudged Josh.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you are.”

“We’ll see.” If Quinn had learned one thing in the last three years, it was to not presume anything.

“Cara and I were thinking.” Josh spoke somberly while his fiancée struggled to contain her excitement. “If you’re agreeable—”

She cut him off. “Between the wedding and a baby on the way, I need help with the mustang sanctuary and therapy program. I—we—want you to be the one.” When Quinn didn’t immediately respond, she said, “We’re offering you a job.”

He dropped the hammer in the toolbox at his feet, buying himself a few seconds while the shock wore off.

“I thought you hired me as a ranch hand.”

“Divide your days,” Josh said. “Mornings, the therapy program and sanctuary. Afternoons, cattle ranching.”

“I’m not qualified to work with kids.”

Cara dismissed him with a laugh. “I don’t need help with the kids. I need someone to oversee the horses. You’re a ten-time national rodeo champion. I think that qualifies you.”

“How do you know you can trust me? You just met me the other day.”

“I’m a good judge of character.” She surprised him again by reaching for his hand and clasping it between hers. “Please say yes. The job comes with a small salary, and I emphasize small. The therapy program is still in the beginning stages. Eventually, there might be an increase.”

She didn’t say it, but she clearly understood that Quinn needed money to rehire the private investigator.

Josh, too, apparently, for he added, “Eventually, Cole, Gabe and I hope to pay you. As soon as the ranch is turning a decent profit again. And we’re close.”

“I’m grateful for what you’ve done.”

“We need you,” Cara said. “I need you.”

Quinn studied her, searching for any sign of insincerity. He saw none. “For the record, I realize I’m not the kind of person who inspires faith.”

“You’re wrong, Quinn,” she said.

“Can I think about it for a day?”

“Take all the time you need,” Josh said.

“Tomorrow will be fine,” Cara added brightly.

Quinn grabbed the toolbox. He did need a shower and shave before the party. “I’d better get a move on.”

Josh and Cara left, heading for the house. Her satisfied smile was hard to miss. Did she assume he’d accept her job offer? If she did, she had good reason.

Quinn chuckled to himself as he returned the toolbox to the shed behind the horse stables. He’d just been had by someone skilled, and he didn’t mind. In fact, he liked it.

Forty minutes later on the dot, he left the tiny apartment over the stables where he bunked. Boots shined and wearing clean clothes, he walked into the living room at the ranch house and faced a roomful of people. Many of them were from neighboring cattle ranches. They might be the Dempseys’ competitors, but they were also good friends, having known August and Raquel for decades.

Quinn’s cousins, Josh and Cole, came forward to greet him, clapping his back and pulling him into friendly hugs. Their half brother, Gabe, was next. Though no relation, he treated Quinn like a cousin. There were more guests, a couple dozen at least. Quinn met each one but quickly began forgetting names.

He was conversing with Cara and Theo McGraw, the Dempseys’ neighbor and Gabe’s future father-in-law, when a pretty woman with freckles and strawberry blond hair entered the room. Quinn caught sight of her, and time came to an abrupt halt. It started up again when she met his gaze, a startled expression on her lovely face.

Her son accompanied her, hovering close to her side, and was much calmer than this morning.

“Look,” Cara exclaimed. “There’s Summer and Teddy. She’s my best friend and maid of honor at the wedding.”

Summer, like the season. Quinn decided the name suited her. She was bright as sunshine and vivid blue skies. Appealing as long, carefree days that stretched into warm, endless evenings.

Suddenly, he wanted to meet her. Officially. “Introduce us.”

“Good idea,” Cara said. “You’ll be spending a lot of time together, what with all the pre-wedding hoopla.”

Quinn wasn’t unhappy at the prospect despite the fact he had no business “spending time together,” as Cara had put it.

As they neared, Summer’s eyes widened, and he swore he could see her mind putting the pieces together. He wasn’t just the man she’d met earlier at the market, he was the guest of honor. Why else would Cara be escorting him over?

“Summer, I want you to meet Quinn Crenshaw.”

Cara might have surprised him with a job offer, but he had an even bigger surprise in store for her.

“We’ve met,” Quinn said.

Summer swallowed, then smiled tentatively in return. “Yes. Earlier today at the market. Except we each didn’t realize who the other person was.”

“Oh!” Cara drew back to study each of them. “Really?”

“He helped me with Teddy.” Summer extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Quinn.”

“Same here.” He closed his fingers around her slim and deceptively strong ones, lingered for too long, then turned his attention to Teddy rather than give himself away. “How you doing, son?”

The boy peered up at him but didn’t meet Quinn’s gaze. He noticed Teddy favored his mother. Same color hair, same freckles and same hazel eyes.

“We’re doing much better,” Summer answered for him. “Shopping can sometimes be stressful. Thank you again.”

“My pleasure.” Quinn meant it.

Cara blinked in astonishment, taking the three of them in. “I really wish I’d been there. This sounds interesting.”

“Truly, it wasn’t.” Summer smiled somberly. “A woman touched Teddy, and, well, you know how he hates that. Quinn was kind and helped me out.”

“Man,” Teddy suddenly said. “Stow.”

“That’s right.” Summer beamed. “Mr. Crenshaw is the man we met at the store.”

Cara also seemed impressed. “Wow. He’s really talking more and more.”

“Between the learning center and the therapy program, he’s making incredible strides.” They chatted for several more minutes until Cara was called away to help with dinner. Summer smoothly changed the subject. “Quinn, I hear you’re a rodeo champion.”