A Hero of
Her Own
Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

About The Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Copyright

Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Chapter 1

Jewel Mayfair shot up, heart pounding and panic suffocating her with a thick press against her chest. Her bedroom was dark except for the glow from a nightlight plugged into the socket on the wall opposite her bed.

She stared at the light, willing her heartbeat to slow and drawing deep, even breaths to calm down. She’d had the dream again. No, not a dream, it was a nightmare that had plagued her for over two years, ever since the car accident that had taken the life of her fiancé.

Andrew! Her heart cried his name as she remembered the last night they’d had together. Everything had been so perfect. She’d picked him up in her car and they’d gone to their favorite restaurant where he’d surprised her with a proposal, complete with a beautiful ring. And she’d surprised him with some news of her own.

Her hands moved to her flat abdomen. The accident hadn’t just taken Andrew from her. It had also taken Andrew’s child, who had been growing inside her. Grief pierced her, as rich and raw as it had been when she’d awakened in the hospital after the accident and been told of all that she had lost.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Just after midnight. She’d been asleep for less than an hour and she knew from experience that sleep would be a long time coming again.

She slid her long legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the thin robe on the chair nearby. She belted the robe over her short nightgown, then opened the doors that led out of her master bedroom and onto a covered porch.

Despite the hour, the late August heat fell around her like an oppressive veil. Ahead of her was the pool and beyond was the woods that was part of the Hopechest Ranch estate.

In the last six months since coming to Esperanza, Texas, she and the woods had become intimate friends. It was among the tall oaks and thick brush that she spent hours each night when she couldn’t sleep. And lately that had been almost every night.

The chlorine scent of the pool hung in the air as she walked around it to the gate in the back. Opening the gate she paused and looked at the house.

It was still hard for her to believe that she was here in Esperanza, running a ranch for troubled children. The Hopechest Ranch was housed in a beautiful Spanish-style structure made of adobe with a tiled roof.

Jewel had her own quarters and there were four additional bedrooms for the children and a married couple, Jeff and Cheryl Cookson, who were part of the staff.

Seeing no lights on and knowing that if any of the children awakened, the Cooksons would take care of things, she walked out of the gate and into the cooler air beneath the trees.

A light breeze ruffled her short, sun-streaked brown hair as she walked down a well-worn path. She tried to erase from her mind the horrifying visions that haunted her sleep far too often. She was exhausted. Her insomnia was getting worse instead of better.

It was ironic that her job as a psychologist at the ranch was to help children heal from trauma and deal with problems, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out how to heal herself.

She stopped walking and leaned with her back against a huge oak trunk. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she’d ever get a full night’s sleep again, if the haunting dreams would ever stop. She’d hoped that by moving from Prosperino, California, she’d leave behind the haunting memories of that accident and her loss. But they’d chased her here and if anything had gotten more intrusive over the last five months.

“Jewel.”

Her eyes popped open and she froze, every muscle in her body rigid. Had somebody just uttered her name? Or had it been the wind and an overactive imagination? Her heart banged a more rapid beat as she gazed around her.

The warm night turned icy around her as she cocked her head to listen, narrowed her eyes to see. “Hello?” she said, the word no more than a whisper.

The moonlight was full, spilling down enough light to illuminate the path, but not able to pierce the darkness of the thick woods.

“Jewel.”

She gasped. Even though she knew it was impossible, that deep male voice sounded like Andrew’s.

“Andrew?” she half whispered his name as tears stung her eyes. She sensed more than saw a form just off to her right. “Andrew, is that you?” Her head filled with wild thoughts.

He hadn’t really died in the car accident. It had all been a terrible mixup, a case of mistaken identity. Somehow he’d survived and he’d come here to find her.

“Andrew, wait!” she exclaimed as she saw the shadowy form moving deeper into the woods. Her heart was now pounding so hard it made her half-breathless.

Her mind went blank as she waded through brush and stepped around tree trunks. She had to find him. She was certain the voice she’d heard calling her name was Andrew’s. She didn’t know how that was possible, didn’t care. All she wanted to do was to get to him, to feel his arms around her once again.

Goose bumps rose on her skin and she was halfdizzy as she fought the underbrush, felt the prickly bite of it against her bare legs.

She stumbled into a low-hanging branch. The whack of the limb across her forehead jarred her back to reality. And the reality was that she was in the middle of the woods chasing after a ghost.

The figure she’d been chasing was gone...or had never been there, she thought. Fighting back new tears of despair, she turned and screamed as she bumped into a solid male chest.

“Jewel. It’s me. Quinn Logan.” His big hands grabbed her shoulders. “Are you all right? I heard you scream.”

“I bumped into a tree branch.” Her voice sounded far away and she mentally shook herself in an effort to get grounded.

“Come on, let’s get back on the path,” he said. He dropped his hands from her shoulders, but took one of her hands in his and led her back to the path.

As her mental fog lifted, she jerked her hand from his and stared at him, his handsome features visible in the full moonlight.

He had a mane of brown hair, with flecks of gold and auburn that enhanced his lean features. A scar across one of his cheeks did nothing to detract from his appeal. His topaz eyes glowed feline and, as always when Jewel looked at him, a crazy fluttering went off in her tummy.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, Dr. Logan?” she asked warily. Quinn was the local veterinarian. At six foot three, he had broad shoulders and a quiet simmering energy and strength that made people believe he could handle anything a large animal might do.

“Quinn,” he said. “Please make it Quinn, and unfortunately sometimes animals don’t get sick during normal business hours. I’ve been over at Clay’s place dealing with a colicky horse.” Clay Colton was Jewel’s cousin and he lived on the large spread next to the Hopechest Ranch.

“Is the horse all right?” she asked, and wrapped her arms around herself, unable to get back the warmth she’d felt before she’d heard that ghostly voice. Had Quinn been the shape she’d seen in the woods? Had he softly called her name?

“The horse is fine. I’m more concerned about you. You said you hit your head?” He placed two warm fingers beneath her chin and raised her face toward the light. Butterflies went off in her stomach at his touch.

“I’m fine,” she said stiffly, and backed away from him.

He reached up and shoved a strand of his hair back from his eyes, gazing at her curiously. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

She hesitated a moment, then decided to be truthful. “I was having some trouble sleeping and thought maybe a walk outside would help.”

“How about I walk you back to your place and see you safely inside?”

“No, thanks. That isn’t necessary,” she protested. She felt off balance, shocked to find him wandering the woods and still confused by thinking she’d heard somebody call her name.

All she wanted to do was get back to the house and into the safety of her own room. At the moment she felt distinctly unsafe, even though Quinn didn’t appear threatening in any way.

“I’ll just say good night now,” she said. She whirled around and hurried back in the direction of the house, grateful when he didn’t try to stop her.

She didn’t relax until she was settled in her room with the doors locked. She lingered at the door, peering outside, but there was no sign of anyone—ghosts or otherwise.

Moving away from the door, she took off her robe and climbed back into bed. Her heart still thudded with adrenaline and she knew sleep would be far off, if at all.

She’d gone a little crazy out in the woods, thinking that she heard Andrew’s voice calling her, believing for a moment that he was someplace out there in the dark woods.

Or was it possible that Quinn had been playing a cruel game with her? She frowned as she thought of the handsome vet. She’d only run into him a half a dozen times since her arrival in town and usually that was out at Clay’s place. But, on each of those occasions, she’d been acutely aware of him, had felt more than a little bit of attraction.

There had been a moment when his warm hands had been on her shoulders when she’d wanted to throw herself against him, feel the heat and strength of his arms enfolding her in an embrace.

She closed her eyes and remembered the sensation of his fingers beneath her chin. It had been so long since a man had touched her in any way. Was it any wonder she’d reacted to his simple touches?

She didn’t know what worried her more, the fact that she might be losing her mind or that she was attracted to a man who might, for whatever reason, be playing games with her sanity?

Mornings were chaotic at the Hopechest Ranch and the next morning was no different. The sounds of childish laughter awakened Jewel just after seven and she blessed Cheryl and Jeff Cookson who would be in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the seven children who were currently residents.

The children’s ages ranged from ten to thirteen, the eldest a girl who had arrived the previous day from Chicago.

Jewel would have a session with the girl, named Kelsey Cameron, this morning. Jewel had official therapy sessions with each child twice a week, but at the Hopechest Ranch therapy never stopped. Every activity, every conversation provided therapy to heal wounds, buoy self-confidence and get the children on the road to happy, healthy lives.

As Jewel showered and dressed for the day, her mind wandered back to those minutes in the woods with Quinn. Even though she was relatively new to the town, she knew Quinn’s story. Clay had told her about how several years ago Quinn had diagnosed one of Clay’s horses with a disease that had threatened the rest of the stock. Clay had been forced to put down the prized stud. At the time most of the other local ranchers had thought Quinn’s diagnosis was wrong.

Ultimately, Quinn had been vindicated, but not before both his reputation and his practice had taken major hits. Clay had stood by his friend and never missed an opportunity to tell Jewel that Quinn was a great guy.

So what was that great guy doing skulking around the woods last night? If he’d gone to Clay’s to take care of a sick horse, why hadn’t he driven his truck over instead of making the long trek by foot from his place to Clay’s?

Once she left her room, there was no more time for thoughts of Quinn. Breakfast was followed by the counseling session with Kelsey Cameron. The young teenager had come to Hopechest Ranch after four years of being shuttled from family member to family member. Her mother, a drug addict, had just awakened one morning and decided she didn’t want to be a mother anymore. One of Kelsey’s aunts had contacted Jewel. She was worried about the girl, who had become more angry and withdrawn with each passing day.

Jewel got little from Kelsey, but hadn’t expected much in the first session. Besides, today was ridinglesson day, something the children all enjoyed. It was a perfect way for Kelsey to start feeling like a member of their “family.”

After lunch, when the children all piled into the minibus, Jewel drove next door to Clay Colton’s ranch, the Bar None. As she went the short distance, the kids chattered with excitement, talking about the horses they would ride and Burt Walker, their instructor. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that Kelsey sat, staring out the van window, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

The three-hundred-acre Bar None ranch was one of the most successful horse ranches in the area. Clay Colton was one of three illegitimate children of Graham Colton and a pretty rodeo rider named Mary Lynn Grady. Clay was a solid, responsible man and since coming to town Jewel had grown to love him like a brother.

She drove past the two-story ranch house and headed toward the stables. Her stomach did a crazy two-step as she recognized Quinn’s black pickup parked nearby. She raised a hand to her hair, momentarily wishing she’d taken more time with it that morning. The thought irritated her and she quickly dropped her hand and parked the bus in front of the stables.

As the children piled out of the bus, Burt walked over to greet them. He was a slender man who’d once been a champion barrel racer. He now worked for Clay and conducted the riding lessons.

“The horses have been waiting for you,” he exclaimed to the kids. “They told me last night how much they were looking forward to giving you all a good ride today.”

Barry Lundon, a ten-year-old with anxiety issues, widened his eyes. “They talk to you?”

Sam Taylor nudged Barry with his shoulder. “Don’t be a baby,” he said with his twelve-year-old wisdom. “Horses don’t talk.”

“Of course they do,” Burt said. “They just don’t use the same kind of language that we do. Come on, let’s get inside and get you all saddled up and I’ll tell you about horse language.” He winked at Jewel, then led the kids to the second stable.

They’d all just disappeared when Clay, Tamara and Quinn walked out of the building directly in front of her. “I thought I heard the chatter of little voices,” Clay said with a warm smile.

“We were just headed to the house for some lemonade,” Tamara said. Tamara Brown was Clay’s exwife. They’d divorced five years ago and she’d become a CSI agent in San Antonio. They’d reunited when a body had been found in a ravine on Clay’s ranch and Tamara had been part of the investigating team.

“How are you, Jewel?” Quinn’s deep voice evoked memories from the night before when his strong, warm fingers had touched her chin and she’d felt the ridiculous need to jump right into his arms.

“Fine. Just fine,” she replied. He looked as attractive this morning as he had the night before in the moonlight. The sun shimmered on his long, thick brown hair finding blond highlights that looked warm and soft. Jewel knew that he was forty-four years old, five years older than she was, but he had an underlying energy that made him seem younger than his years.

“Beautiful day,” he said.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” she replied.

“Before you know it, winter will be here.”

Tamara released a tiny sigh of impatience. “You two can stand out here in the heat and talk about the weather until the cows come home. I’m going up to the house for a glass of lemonade.” She turned on her heels and headed for the house.

Clay stared after her with the eyes of a man who loved what he saw. Andrew once looked at me that way, Jewel thought. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to pursue a relationship with another man, but she had to admit there were times she missed having somebody look at her that way, as if she were the most important person on the face of the earth.

Clay turned back to face them. “You two coming?”

“I can’t,” Quinn said as he glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment in about fifteen minutes. I’ve got to get going.” Once again he turned his gaze to Jewel. “It was nice seeing you again.”

She nodded, those crazy butterflies taking wing in her stomach once again. “You, too.”

She and Clay watched as he got into his pickup truck. She was grateful Quinn hadn’t mentioned their midnight meeting. She didn’t really want Clay to know that she often walked the woods between their places because she suffered nightmares. Her job was healing. She didn’t want anyone to find out that she couldn’t heal herself.

“He’s such a nice guy,” Clay said as Quinn’s pickup headed down the gravel lane. “And such a talented vet.”

“Speaking of vets, I heard you had a horse down last night,” she said.

He frowned at her. “A horse down last night? I don’t know where you heard that, but it’s not true. My stock is all healthy.”

He’d lied. Quinn had lied to her the night before. The warmth of the sun on her shoulders couldn’t quite warm the chill that suddenly gripped her.

What had Quinn been doing in those woods the night before, and why had he lied?

Chapter 2

From the moment Jewel had first stepped inside Clay’s white wood-frame, two-story home she’d felt the warm welcome it offered. She followed Clay into the wide entry hall and to the rear of the house where a farm-style kitchen opened into a family room.

The family room held two leather couches that faced each other in front of a massive stone fireplace. Western antiques dotted the room, a wagon-wheel coffee table, two lanterns from the 1800s and a framed torn Texas flag that was reported to have flown at the Alamo. The end result was a feeling of old and new, of warmth and permanence.

They didn’t go into the family room but instead stopped in the kitchen, where Tamara had already poured lemonade for them.

“Where’s Quinn?” she asked as Clay and Tamara sat at the round oak table.

“He left. He said he had an appointment,” Clay explained.

Tamara served their drinks, then joined them at the table. “Did I see a new little face out there this morning?”

Jewel nodded. “Kelsey Cameron. She arrived yesterday from Chicago. Mother a drug addict, father unknown, poor thing has been shuffled from relative to relative for the last four years.”

“You’ll work your magic, and when she leaves here, she’ll have a new sense of self-worth and be wonderfully well-adjusted,” Clay said.

Jewel smiled. “You make it sound so easy.”

“That’s because you make it look easy,” Tamara exclaimed. “Your rapport with those kids amazes me.”

Jewel waved a hand to dismiss the topic, embarrassed by their praise. “Have you heard that Joe and Meredith are planning a visit?”

Clay leaned back in his chair and nodded. “One of the last stops on the campaign trail.”

“I have a feeling the Coltons will be spending Christmases at the White House,” Tamara said.

“Uncle President,” Clay mused. “Has a nice ring to it.”

Jewel laughed. “He’s still a few months from winning the presidential election.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, especially now that Allan Daniels is out of the running,” Clay replied.

Allan Daniels was the current governor of Texas and had been Joe Colton’s hottest competition for their party’s nomination until his true character had been exposed. Dirty dealing and bribery had effectively neutralized Daniels’s threat to Joe’s candidacy.

For the next fifteen minutes they talked about the election and how well Joe Colton was doing in the polls. That led to a discussion of politics in general and then the talk turned to more family news.

The Colton family tree was a complicated one. Joe and Meredith had five children of their own and had fostered seven. Jewel’s mother, Patsy, who was Meredith’s twin sister, had kidnapped Meredith and pretended to be Joe’s wife for ten years, giving him three more children. Graham, Joe’s brother had two children with his wife, Cynthia, then had indulged in an affair with Mary Lynn Grady and they’d had three children.

Sometimes when Jewel thought about the history of the Colton clan her head hurt, especially when she thought of her own mother, Patsy, who had done horrible things and eventually died in a mental hospital.

Jewel tried not to think of her mother too often. She preferred to think about Charlie and Ruth Baylor, the couple who had adopted her and given her a wonderfully normal Midwestern upbringing. Unfortunately, the couple had since passed away.

“Hello! Anybody home?” The familiar female voice was followed by the sound of boots against the tile entry floor.

“In the kitchen,” Tamara yelled.

Clay’s younger sister, Georgie, strode into the kitchen, bringing with her the high energy that was as much a part of her as the waist-length red braid that bobbed down her back. Following at her heels was her husband, Nick Sheffield.

“Georgie, Nick.” Clay motioned them toward the table. “Have a seat, we’re just enjoying some lemonade and local gossip.”

“Hi, Jewel. Saw your kids outside in the corral. Got any future champion riders in the bunch?” Georgie asked. Georgie had spent most of her life on the rodeo circuit as a champion barrel racer. Even the birth of Emmie, her daughter, five years ago hadn’t stopped her from competing.

“I don’t think so.” She laughed. “From what I’ve seen of them, most are just hanging on to the saddle horn for dear life.”

Georgie’s green eyes seemed to sparkle with more liveliness than usual as she looked back at her brother. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” Clay returned.

Georgie laughed. “You’ll like this one.” She turned in the direction of the front door. “Come on in,” she yelled.

Jewel’s eyes widened as Clay’s brother, Ryder, appeared. Next to him was Ana Morales, a Mexican woman who had worked for Jewel before her baby was kidnapped in a black-market ring. Ana held the baby girl in her arms and wore the smile of a woman in love as she gazed up at Ryder.

Clay stood, his face reflecting myriad emotions. Jewel knew the history between the two men, that Ryder’s bad-boy lifestyle had led to Clay washing his hands of his younger brother. Jewel knew how painful it had been for Clay to shut his brother out, how tormented he’d been by the difficult decision. But Ryder had turned his life around when he’d been sent to a correctional facility and offered a chance to work undercover for the CIA. He’d cracked open a black-market baby-trafficking operation, saving Ana’s little girl and falling in love in the process. During this time, Clay had thought his brother was dead, had grieved for his and the family’s loss. Now they had a second chance.

“Hi, Clay,” Ryder said, his voice husky with emotion.

There was a moment of charged hesitation, then Clay took two steps forward and embraced his brother. Tears filled Jewel’s eyes. Tamara’s eyes were suspiciously bright, as well.

Jewel jumped up and hugged Ana. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said. She and Ana had formed a friendship while Ana had worked for her. Jewel cooed over the baby, then stepped back.

It seemed that suddenly everyone was talking at once and in the melee Tamara shocked everyone by confessing that she and Clay had eloped and were married.

As a new round of hugging and backslapping began, Jewel slid out of the room and then out of the house, wanting to leave the family alone for their reunion.

She had a feeling that the issues that had torn Clay and Ryder apart were behind them and the brothers were on their way to building a new, close relationship. She was thrilled for them, but as she walked toward the stables a new sense of loneliness weighed her down.

Clay and Tamara were married and it had been obvious by the glow on Ana’s face that she and Ryder were probably not far behind. There seemed to be a marriage epidemic breaking out in Esperanza. But Jewel had not caught the bug, and felt immune to anything even remotely romantic.

On more than one occasion Deputy Adam Rawlings had made it clear that he was interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with her. They’d seen each other socially several times but, try as she might, she just didn’t feel more than friendship for him. Besides, with the nightmares she’d been suffering on a regular basis, she was probably better off alone. No man would want to spend his nights with her while she was haunted by ghosts from her past.

She dismissed all thoughts of romance from her mind as she entered the stables. The kids were just finishing up brushing down their horses and Burt approached her with a friendly smile.

“They’re just about done,” he said.

“How did Kelsey do?” she asked, hoping the new girl had opened up a bit.

“Never said a word to anyone, but she’s got a natural seat in the saddle. She grow up around horses?”

“No, just the opposite. She’s an inner-city kid, probably has never been on a horse in her life,” Jewel replied.

Burt looked over to where Kelsey was working on the horse, a look of fierce concentration on her face. “She shows all the signs of being a born rider. I hope she sticks around long enough for me to work with her more extensively.”

“She’s not going anywhere for a while. We’ve got lots of work to do with her,” Jewel replied.

It took another half an hour to get all the children loaded into the bus and headed back the short distance to the Hopechest Ranch. The noise level was just below that of a jet engine as they all chatted about their horses and the riding experience. The only one who didn’t say a word was Kelsey, who stared out the window as if she were lost in a world of her own.

Jewel was determined to break into that world. It wasn’t just her job, it was a calling from her very soul.

“Everybody out and you can have free time play in the garage until dinnertime,” Jewel said as she parked in front of the house. One section of the threecar garage had been turned into a playroom, complete with toys and games and craft items.

All the kids headed for the garage except Kelsey, who lingered behind. “Is it okay if I just go to my room?” she asked.

Jewel would have preferred she go with the other children and interact, but she also knew it was going to take some time for Kelsey to feel safe here, to feel as if she were part of the group.

She placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “That’s fine. Dinner is at five-thirty so make sure you’re in the kitchen by then.”

Kelsey nodded and headed inside. Jewel lingered outside, fighting a wave of exhaustion. The restless nights and bad dreams were getting more frequent, and more difficult to handle.

She raised her face to the warmth of the sun and once again thought about romance. Maybe she was incapable of loving anyone. Maybe the love she’d had for Andrew had been all she had and once it had been given she’d been left empty.

Of course, that didn’t explain the odd tingle of excitement she felt whenever she was around Quinn. Female hormones reminding her that she was alive—that’s all it was, she told herself.

It was impossible for her to fall in love again, especially with her past visiting her every night in the form of nightmares.

Voices in the night. Visions in the woods. Equally as haunting as the dreams was the fear that somehow she was slowly falling into the mental illness that had consumed her mother.

“She should be just fine,” Quinn assured Ralph Smith, a local rancher who had called him about a cow who had gotten caught in some barbed wire. “All the wounds are superficial and now that I’ve cleaned her up and applied antibiotic cream, she shouldn’t have any problems.”

He slapped the rear of the big animal and with a low moo she headed back toward the pasture. “I’d definitely do something about that barbed wire.”

Ralph frowned toward a stand of trees and brush. “I didn’t even know it was there, just tangled up in all the weeds, but I’ll get it out of here today.”

Together the two men walked toward the gate in the fence. Initially, coming out here and meeting up with Ralph had been awkward. Ralph had been one of the loudest, most critical ranchers when Quinn had been forced to put down Clay Colton’s prized stud.

It had been the second-darkest time in Quinn’s life. The darkest had been when he’d lost his wife, Sarah, to cancer.

Even though Quinn had been proven right in his diagnosis of the disease that had infected Clay’s stud, even thought his decision to put the horse down had probably saved the rest of the stock, Quinn had never quite gotten over how quickly some of the locals had turned on him.

The fact that Ralph had called him to come and check out the cow was an olive branch he had extended to Quinn. It had been a long time coming, but Quinn wasn’t a man to hold a grudge. Life was too damned short.

“Just let me know if the wounds begin to ooze or look infected and I’ll come back out,” Quinn said as he reached the door of his pickup truck.

“I appreciate it, Doc.” Ralph held out his hand and the two men shook.

Minutes later as Quinn drove away from the Smith ranch and back toward town, he thought about those dark days when many in the town had turned their backs on him, made darker because he was still grieving for his wife. At the time all he had was his work and when that took a hit, he considered packing up and leaving Esperanza.

Instead, with the support of the Coltons, Clay in particular, he’d stayed and held his head high. When his decision to put the stud down had been vindicated, he’d put the whole ordeal behind him and got on with his life.

As he drove down Main Street, he decided to stop for dinner at Miss Sue’s Café, where he took many of his evening meals. He told himself it was because he hated to cook, but the truth was he dreaded the evening hours spent alone.

An old-fashioned cowbell heralded his arrival as he entered the quaint café. “You’re a bit early today, Quinn,” Becky French, the owner of the establishment, greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiled at the short, plump woman. “It’s never too early for a good meal.” He walked over to one of the wooden tables by the window and sat in a chair where he could easily see out the window.

“Got some new pictures,” Becky said as she poured him a cup of coffee. There was nothing Becky loved more than to show off pictures of her grandchildren. She set the coffeepot down and dug into her apron pocket to withdraw a handful of photos.

Quinn took them from her and studied each of the smiling childish faces. “They’re beautiful,” he said.

Becky smiled and nodded. “They are.” She tucked the photos back in her apron. “I’ll just give you a few minutes. The special is smothered steak and mashed potatoes.”

“Then I don’t need a minute. That sounds good.” He returned the menu and leaned back in the chair to sip his coffee. She scurried away, the gray bun on top of her head bobbing with her brisk walk.

Kids. At one time Quinn had hoped to have a house full, but fate and cancer had stolen that dream from him. He and Sarah had never had a chance for children.

Even though it was early, there were already other diners in the café. Quinn had never been in the place when there weren’t at least a handful of people. Most mealtimes the place was packed.

He’d just finished his coffee when Georgie Sheffield, her husband, Nick, and her daughter, little Emmie, came through the door.

“I hear we just missed you this morning at Clay’s,” Georgie said to him. “We had a reunion. Ryder and Ana are back in town and we took them to Clay’s.” Georgie’s green eyes sparkled brightly. “It was wonderful.”

Emmie sidled up next to Quinn. At five years old, the little girl was the spitting image of her mother. Her red hair was cut pixielike to frame her face and she was dressed just like her mama in jeans, a Western-style shirt and cowboy boots.

Emmie was bright and precocious and had spent most of her young life on the rodeo circuit with her mother. The little girl considered Quinn a special friend because he fixed horses when they got sick and there were few things Emmie loved more than horses and cowboys.

“Excuse me, Mommy, but I want to talk to Mr. Quinn,” Emmie said. Georgie smiled with amusement and nodded. “Guess what happens next week?”

“I can’t imagine. What?” Quinn replied.

She leaned closer, bringing with her the scent of sunshine and childhood. “School begins.”

“Ah.” Quinn smiled at her. “And what are you, in the second grade, the third?”

“Maybe I should be because you know I can already read,” Emmie exclaimed. She leaned even closer. “But, truly it’s going to be my very first day of kindergarten.” A fierce look of determination crossed her petite features. “And I’m going to make one new friend, even if he or she isn’t a cowboy.”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful plan,” Quinn said.

Emmie turned to her mother and Nick. “And now I’ll go pick us out a table.”

As she left the adults behind, Georgie offered Quinn a weak smile. “I can’t believe she’s starting school. She’s so comfortable around adults. Her friends have always been rodeo cowboys. I just hope she fits in okay.” Her eyes clouded and sparkled with sudden tears of worry.

“I’m sure she’ll be just fine,” Quinn said.

“Of course she will,” Nick agreed, and placed an arm around Georgie’s shoulder. “She’s as strong as her mother and almost as pretty.”

Georgie laughed and leaned into Nick. He grinned at Quinn. “You just wait, maybe someday you’ll have to live through the trauma of the first day of school.”

As the two of them joined Emmie, who had chosen a table toward the back of the café, Quinn thought about what Nick had said.

He and Sarah had talked about having children one day, but before that dream had been realized she’d been diagnosed with the malignant aggressive brain tumor that had taken her in six short months. They’d had only nine months of marriage before her diagnosis.

Sarah had been a quiet, thoughtful woman and when she died, she did so as quietly and unassumingly as she had lived. He’d grieved deep and hard for a long time. Now when he thought of Sarah, the sharp despair was gone and he was left with a loneliness and a growing desire to get on with his life.

“Here we are,” Becky said as she delivered his meal. “Anything else I can do for you?” she asked as she poured him another cup of coffee.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“You’re not good,” Becky replied, her blue eyes sparkling with the liveliness that was her trademark. “You know I’m not happy unless I’m minding everyone’s business but my own. You need a woman, Quinn. You spend far too much time at this table all alone—no offense.”

He laughed. “None taken. I was just sitting here thinking the same thing.”

“We’ve got a lot of nice single women in this town who’d love to see you socially. You’re that strong, silent type. A little bit of that is quite romantic, but too much of it puts off the ladies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Quinn replied. It was impossible to be offended by Becky’s advice because he knew how well intentioned it was.

As she left his table, his thoughts turned to the woman he’d met in the woods the night before. Jewel. From the moment he’d first met her, she’d intrigued him.

Certainly he found her amazingly attractive with her short, tousled, streaked golden-brown hair and big brown eyes. Although slender, she had curves in all the right places and legs that seemed to go on forever.

Last night wasn’t the first time he’d seen her wandering the woods around the Hopechest Ranch, although it was the first time he’d let her know he was there.

Quinn had a feeling he and Jewel suffered from the same afflictions—insomnia and loneliness. Quinn often spent the nighttime hours at Clay’s place where he boarded his horse, Noches.

What he didn’t understand was what had made Jewel scream in the woods the night before and why she’d looked positively haunted when he’d encountered her.

Chapter 3

As the purple shadows of twilight began to deepen, a responding tension filled Jewel. It wasn’t natural for the coming of night to bring something that tasted very much like suppressed terror into the back of her throat.

Jeff and Cheryl were in the process of getting the kids ready for bed and Jewel sat at the kitchen table making a list of school supplies she needed to purchase before school began next week.

When she finished her list, she would tuck each of the children in for the night. Those minutes just before bedtime, when she connected with each of the children with a good-night kiss and a wish for sweet dreams, was an important part of the routine of love that abounded at the ranch.

A knock sounded on the front door and she looked at the clock. Although it felt much later, it was only just after seven.

She hurried to the front door and opened it to see Deputy Adam Rawlings. As usual not a strand of his dark brown hair was out of place and he was impeccably dressed in his khaki uniform. “Hi, Adam.”

“I was just out making rounds and thought I’d stop by and say hello,” he said.

Jewel flipped on the outside light and stepped out on the porch to join him. “Quiet night?” she asked.

“Most of them are quiet,” he replied. “Not that I’m complaining. I heard you’ve got a new boarder. How’s that working out?”

She nodded. “A thirteen-year-old girl named Kelsey from Chicago. If you’d asked me yesterday how things were going I would have said not well. She was quiet and withdrawn. But today she appears more open. She loved the riding lessons at Clay’s yesterday and wanted to know when we’d be going again.” She broke off as she realized she was beginning to ramble.

“How’s everything else going?” he asked. His gaze narrowed slightly. “You look tired.”

“I am,” she admitted. “I was just sitting at the table, thinking about everything I need to buy for the kids to start school next week.” She smiled. “Trying to figure out school supplies for seven kids in seven different classes is enough to make anyone tired.”

“I’ll let you get back to it. I just thought I’d check in and see how you were doing.” He shifted his muscular body from one foot to the other. “If you get a minute to yourself and want to get dinner out or maybe see a movie, you know all you have to do is just call me.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Adam. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They said goodbye and then she watched as he left the porch and walked back to his patrol car. He seemed like such a nice man, good-looking and obviously interested in her. Unfortunately, she just didn’t feel anything for him except a mild friendship.

As his car pulled away, she went back inside to the kitchen table. She finished making her list and by then it was time to kiss the kids good-night.

She went into the boys’ bedroom first. The room held two bunk beds and at the moment all four sleeping places were occupied. Barry and Sam, the two older boys, had the top bunks and eight-year-old Jimmy Nigel and seven-year-old Caleb Torrel had the lower bunks.

“All tucked in?” she asked Barry as she approached him first.

He nodded. “Will you keep the nightlight on?” he asked anxiously. “I’m not scared or anything, but I just don’t like the dark.”

Jewel smiled at the dark-eyed boy. They had this same conversation every night. “The nightlight will be on until morning. Sleep tight, Barry.”

As she moved from Barry to Sam and then to the two younger boys, she couldn’t help but think of the baby she’d lost. She’d desperately wanted to be a mother, had been thrilled to discover she was pregnant. The minute the doctor had confirmed what she’d suspected, her heart had filled with a happiness she’d never known before and hadn’t known since.

As she moved from the boys’ room to the girls’, she shoved away thoughts of the baby she’d lost and dreams of what might have been.

There were three girls in residence at the moment. Kelsey slept on the top bunk of one of the beds and on the lower bunks were Lindy Walker and Carrie Lyndon, both ten years old.

Jewel went to Kelsey first. She didn’t touch the girl in any way, wouldn’t invade Kelsey’s personal space unless she was invited to do so. “Ready to call it a night?”

Kelsey nodded, her green eyes less guarded than they’d been the day before. “I’m not used to going to bed so early.”

Jewel smiled. “We believe in the routine of early to bed, early to rise around here. Besides, with school starting next week, it’s important that all of you get plenty of sleep.”

Jewel moved to the other beds, where the girls demanded good-night kisses and hugs, then she left the room and turned out the light. As in the boys’ room, a small nightlight burned in a wall socket.

She met Cheryl in the hallway and smiled tiredly. “Another day done,” she said.

Cheryl returned her smile and swept a strand of her long, dark hair behind an ear. “I wanted to run an idea by you. Jeff and I would like to plan a day trip for the kids in the next couple of weeks. There’s a Native American museum two hours from here and we thought it would be fun to visit the museum and have a picnic lunch at a nearby park.”

“Sounds like something they would enjoy,” Jewel replied.

“We haven’t finalized a day yet, I just wanted to put a bug in your ear about it.”

“Let me know what you and Jeff decide and we’ll work out the details.”

Cheryl nodded. “Then I’ll just say good night.”

As Cheryl headed toward the front bedroom where she and Jeff slept, Jewel returned to the kitchen. She tucked into her purse the list of supplies she needed to buy, then once again sat at the table to make notes in the files she kept on each of the children.

Busywork. In the back of her mind she knew that’s what she was doing, creating work to keep her mind off the fact that soon it would be time to go to bed.

To sleep.

To dream.

Again the taste of dread mingled with a simmering terror. If only she could have one night of peaceful sleep and happy dreams. If only she could wake up in the morning well-rested and happy.

If only Andrew hadn’t died in the car accident.

She sighed and focused back on the files in front of her. These were her children, the ones who came to Hopechest Ranch in need of stability and love. They were all she needed. And maybe a good night’s sleep was vastly overrated.

She didn’t know how long she’d sat working when she heard a strange scratching sound. She got up from the table and followed the noise to the front door. Definitely sounded like something scratching for attention.

Equally curious and wary, she unlocked the door and cracked it open. The door shoved inward and a chocolate-colored dog jumped up at her. In surprise she stumbled backward and fell on her behind. The dog licked her face as if she were a long-lost friend that he was thrilled to see again.

“Okay, okay,” she said with a burst of laughter as the dog continued to lavish her with kisses. She looked up to see Quinn standing in the doorway. Her heart jumped with a quickened beat.

He stepped inside and took the dog by the collar. “Sorry about that,” he said as she quickly got to her feet. “He’s a Lab and just a puppy so he hasn’t learned his manners yet.”

“It’s okay.” Jewel reached up and self-consciously raked her fingers through her hair. As always the sight of Quinn sent an electrical tingle through her. “He’s a cutie. Is he yours?”

“Actually, I was hoping he’d be yours,” Quinn said.

“Mine?” She looked at him in surprise.

The dog sat on the floor next to him, looking first at Quinn, then at Jewel, as if aware that they were talking about him.

“It might be presumptuous of me, but I thought maybe you could use a companion, especially when you decide to take a walk in the woods late at night.” Quinn shoved a strand of his thick, wavy hair away from his eyes, and shifted from foot to foot, as if suddenly extremely uncomfortable. “Maybe it was a stupid idea.”

“No, it was a lovely idea,” she replied, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “Actually, we’ve talked about getting a dog since I first opened the doors here, but we’ve just never gotten around to it. What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have an official name yet.” Quinn’s eyes were a warm topaz. “I have to warn you, he’s only twelve weeks old. He’s not quite housebroken, but he’s a big lover and has a terrific personality. Most important, he’s great with kids.”

“Then how can I possibly turn away such a wonderful gift?” she replied. The children would be positively thrilled with this new addition to the family. “Maybe we’ll put him in the garage for tonight. Do you think that’s okay?”

He nodded and clipped a leash to the collar. “I’m sure that’s fine. Why don’t you take him and I’ll unload the supplies from the truck.”

“Supplies?”

He smiled, a warm, beautiful gesture that detracted from the scar across his cheek and transformed him from slightly dangerous-looking to more than slightly wonderful-looking. “In the truck I’ve got a doggie bed, food and water bowls, a couple of toys and several bags of kibble.”

“Quinn, you didn’t have to do all that,” she protested as she took the leash from him.

“It wouldn’t be fair to give you a gift that cost you a ton of money,” he replied. “And along with the gift comes free veterinary services for the life of that guy. Consider it my donation to Hopechest Ranch.”

She started to protest once again at the generosity of the gift, but then changed her mind and smiled. “Thank you.”

Together they walked out of the door. She headed for one of the three garages as he went out to his truck. The first garage was the playroom for the kids. The second was where she parked her car and the third was currently empty. It was to the empty one that she led the puppy.

As she waited for Quinn she crouched down and stroked the puppy’s back. “We’ll let the kids give you a name,” she said. He gazed at her with big, brown, adoring eyes.

Her heart expanded with warmth. Quinn had brought her a dog to walk in the woods. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her. He thought she could use a companion.

Had he sensed the deep, abiding loneliness that had been her constant companion for the last couple of years? A loneliness that never went away, no matter how many people surrounded her, no matter how the children filled her days and nights.

She stood as he approached with two big sacks of dog food over his shoulder. Although he was tall and lean, he had broad, strong shoulders that easily managed the heavy bags.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said. As he drew closer, a new spark of electricity swept through her.

“I figured maybe if you’re grateful enough you might invite me in for a cup of coffee.” He set the bags on the garage floor.

“I think maybe we can work something out,” she replied. She told herself that the crazy buzz she felt at the very idea of spending some time with him was nothing more than the pleasure of having somebody fill these hours of darkness before she finally called it a night.

It took him only minutes to unload all the items from his truck. She got the pooch settled for the night, then Quinn followed her inside and to the kitchen.

The kitchen was one of the largest rooms in the house, but as Quinn took a seat at the long wooden table, she felt as if the room shrank. He possessed a simmering energy beneath his calm, cool exterior, an energy that seemed to shimmer in the air around him.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” he asked as she made the coffee. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I got to your front door.”

“It’s not a problem,” she assured him. “I normally don’t go to bed too early.” It was only when she turned away from him to check on the coffee that she remembered what had happened the night before—their encounter in the woods and the lie he’d told her about what he’d been doing there.

Quinn wasn’t sure what happened, but one minute her brown eyes were warm and inviting and the next minute they chilled and held a new wariness.

“You lied to me last night,” she said. “You told me that you had been over at Clay’s because he had a horse down, but I asked him about it and he said all his stock was healthy.”

So that’s what had caused the change in her expression. She’d obviously just remembered what he’d told her the night before.

“Yeah, I lied,” he admitted. “It was a stupid thing to do. I was embarrassed that I’d bumped into you, embarrassed to tell you the truth.”

She remained standing by the counter next to the coffeepot. The coffee was finished brewing but she made no move to get cups. He had a feeling that she was waiting for his explanation and if she didn’t like it, then the offer of coffee would be rescinded.

And he didn’t want that. It had taken him all evening to work up the nerve to come here. In fact, it had taken him months to work up his nerve to be here. He wanted to have coffee with her. He wanted to know more about her.

“And what, exactly, is the truth?” she asked, the coolness in her voice strong enough to frost his face.

“I don’t sleep well, haven’t for years. On the nights when I know I won’t be able to sleep I go to Clay’s and spend time with my horse, Noches. I board him there and right now he’s my favorite nighttime companion.”

She searched his face, as if on his features she’d discover if he was telling her the truth or not. “Jewel, why else would I be out in the woods in the middle of the night?” he asked.

She turned her back on him to reach for two cups in the overhead cabinet, but not before he saw a flash of emotion in her eyes, an emotion that looked something like fear. “You should have just told me that last night,” she replied. She poured the coffee then joined him at the table.

“I haven’t been eager for it to get around that the town vet suffers from insomnia. The first time an animal dies for whatever reason everyone will say it’s my fault because I don’t get enough sleep,” he said.

She took a sip of her coffee, her brown eyes gazing at him curiously over the rim of her cup. “It must have been difficult for you,” she said as she placed the cup back on the table. “When you had to put down Clay’s horse and so many in the town turned against you. Clay told me all about it.”

“It was difficult,” he agreed, “but it’s over and done with, and I try to keep difficult things from my past firmly in the past.” As thoughts of Sarah drifted through his mind, he decided a change of topic was in order. “I understand I missed a big reunion over at Clay’s place this morning.”

“You did.” A smile curved her lips and Quinn felt the beauty of the gesture in a starburst of warmth in the pit of his stomach. “It was wonderful to see Clay and Ryder together again. Finally, I think they’re going to have the relationship they both want.”

Quinn nodded. “I know how badly Ryder’s lifestyle hurt Clay, the bad choices his brother made when he was younger, but it sounds like he’s turned it all around.”

“How did you hear about it—the reunion, I mean?” she asked curiously.

“I ran into Georgie and Nick and Emmie at the café this evening.” He smiled. “Emmie told me she’s excited to start school next week and she’s determined to make one friend who isn’t a cowboy.”

Jewel laughed and again Quinn’s stomach filled with a welcome warmth. She had a nice laugh. “That one is a pip,” she said. “I know Georgie has been worried about her fitting in at school. Emmie has spent her whole life on the rodeo circuit with adults as her peers, but I keep telling Georgie that Emmie is going to be just fine. She’s so bright, she shouldn’t have any problems.”

There followed several long moments of uncomfortable silence. Quinn felt like a teenage boy on a first date as he desperately searched for an interesting topic of conversation. He’d been wanting to get to know her better ever since she’d come to town, but it had been years since he’d done the dating dance.

“I’ll bet your kids…” he began.

“How did you get…” she said at the same time.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I was just going to ask where you got the dog.”

“I helped deliver a litter of four and the owner insisted I get pick of the litter for helping out. I already have a dog and so figured I’d just try to find him a good home. I think this will be a great place for him.”

She smiled. “The kids will love him and taking care of him will be therapeutic for them.”

He leaned back in his chair, some of his tension beginning to ebb. “You like what you do here.”

She nodded, her golden-brown hair sparkling beneath the artificial light. “I love it. I was working for Meredith Colton at the Hopechest Ranch in Prosperino, California, and when she offered me the opportunity to come here and open up a ranch, I jumped at the chance.”

“Was it a tough change? Moving here from California?” He took a drink of the coffee.

“Not really. I was ready for a change and, of course, Clay has been very supportive.”

“He thinks a lot of you,” Quinn said.

“He thinks a lot of you, too.”

“He’s been a good friend and a great support over the years.” Quinn took another sip of his coffee.

“You know, I have the same problem you do with insomnia,” she said. She wrapped her slender fingers around her coffee cup and looked more vulnerable than she had moments before. “I start dreading the coming of night just after dinner.”

He wasn’t surprised by her confession. “Have you seen a doctor? Maybe you could get a prescription for some sleeping medication.”

She waved one of her hands. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to medicate myself to sleep. What about you? Have you seen a doctor, Doctor?” she asked lightly.

“No, I’m like you. Eventually after a couple nights of restlessness I manage to get in enough sleep to keep going.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “From what Clay has told me, that’s not the only thing we have in common.”

“What else do we have in common?” One of her eyebrows danced up quizzically.

“We’ve both lost people we cared deeply about. Clay told me about your fiancé. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her eyes darkened as her complexion paled. “Thank you. It was a tragedy, but it’s in the past.”

It was obvious by the tightening of her lips, the paleness of her skin, that even though it was in her past, she still felt deeply the grief of the loss. She cleared her throat. “What about you? Who did you lose?”

“My wife, Sarah.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d been married.” Some of the color returned to her cheeks.

“We weren’t married long before she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Six months later she was gone.”

To his surprise Jewel reached out and covered his hand with hers. “Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”

Her touch sizzled through him and he turned his hand over so that he now grasped her hand. “The only reason I told you this is because I want you to know that I understand grief, that if you need somebody to talk to, I have a good ear and strong shoulders.”

She pulled her hand from his as if suddenly uncomfortable by the physical connection. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m doing okay. Tell me about Sarah. What was she like?”

“Quiet and sweet. We met while I was in school. I was getting my degree in veterinary medicine and she wanted to be a nurse. It began as friendship and grew into love. She loved animals almost as much as I did and we talked about having a dozen kids and twice as many dogs and cats. What about your fiancé, Andy…wasn’t that his name?”

“Andrew, never Andy,” she replied, her eyes going soft. “He owned an accounting firm. He loved numbers and puzzles and he’d asked me to be his wife on the night that he died.”

“Clay told me it was a car accident.”

She nodded and once again wrapped her fingers around her cup, as if seeking warmth from the coffee it still contained. “We were driving home from the restaurant where we’d eaten dinner. It was misting and the road was dark. A Hummer seemed to come out of nowhere and steered right into the driver side of our car. I was knocked unconscious.” One of her hands moved to splay on her stomach. “The driver of the Hummer was never found.”

Quinn wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and hold her until her haunted, vulnerable look went away. “Even though you can’t ever prepare yourself for the death of somebody you love, I had six months to prepare myself for saying goodbye to Sarah, but you had no time to prepare yourself for saying goodbye to Andrew.”

She shrugged. “It happened. It’s over and life moves on.” She glanced at the clock on the stove.

“It’s getting late,” he said, taking it as a hint. “I should get out of here.” She didn’t argue and he stood and carried his cup to the sink. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said as they walked to the front door.

“Thanks for the dog,” she replied. “It was a very thoughtful thing for you to do.” She opened the front door and leaned against it.

He knew she was waiting for him to walk out, but he was reluctant to leave. “Jewel, I’m sorry if our conversation brought back bad memories.” He’d finally gotten an opportunity to talk to her one-on-one and the topic of conversation he’d chosen was their painful pasts.

To his horror her eyes misted with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said as the tears spilled onto her cheeks.

He stepped toward her then, unable to stand by while she cried, feeling guilty because he was responsible for her tears. He should have talked about the weather, or about town politics, about anything but loss.

He opened his arms to her and to his surprise she walked into them and laid her head against his chest. He embraced her, the scent of her soft, floral perfume eddying in the air.

The last thing he’d expected when he’d arrived here tonight was to have her in his arms, but when she raised her face to look up at him, he knew he wanted to take it one step further. He desperately wanted to kiss her.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.