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Rescuing the Cowboy
Cathy McDavid


WRONGED MAN. RIGHT WOMAN?After three years of wrongful imprisonment, Quinn Crenshaw is ready to rebuild his life and find the daughter he has never met. A job training horses at his cousin’s Arizona cattle ranch becomes something wonderful when Quinn meets Summer Goodwyn and her special-needs little boy. The single mother believes in him…and is raising this former rodeo champion’s spirits sky-high!The equine therapy program is helping Summer’s young son connect with others–including one super-attractive rancher determined to be a father to his own little girl. Despite the obstacles in their path, can she make Quinn see they have a future worth fighting for?







WRONGED MAN. RIGHT WOMAN?

After three years of wrongful imprisonment, Quinn Crenshaw is ready to rebuild his life and find the daughter he has never met. A job training horses at his cousin’s Arizona cattle ranch becomes something wonderful when Quinn meets Summer Goodwyn and her special-needs little boy. The single mother believes in him…and is raising this former rodeo champion’s spirits sky-high!

The equine therapy program is helping Summer’s young son connect with others—including one super-attractive rancher determined to be a father to his own little girl. Despite the obstacles in their path, can she make Quinn see they have a future worth fighting for?


Knowing it was wrong, he leaned in and lowered his head…

The temptation to inhale her subtle fragrance and hear the slight intake of her breath was too hard to resist.

“Quinn.” His name was a whisper on her lips. “I wish things were different.”

“I do, too.”

Kissing her would be a simple matter of capturing her mouth with his. He didn’t, though his gut told him she’d respond with an ardor she kept hidden.

“I…um…” She hesitated.

“Right.” Hadn’t he vowed mere minutes ago to avoid causing her trouble?

Quinn retreated a step, then walked away. Mistakes were easy to make, and he’d committed too many already in his life.


Rescuing the Cowboy

Cathy McDavid






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Since 2006, New York Times bestselling author CATHY McDAVID has been happily penning contemporary Westerns for Mills & Boon. Every day, she gets to write about handsome cowboys riding the range or busting a bronc. It’s a tough job, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice. Cathy shares her Arizona home with her own real-life sweetheart and a trio of odd pets. Her grown twins have left to embark on lives of their own, and she couldn’t be prouder of their accomplishments.


To Mike, as always.

What they say is true,

it only takes a moment.


Contents

Cover (#ue3324c5c-0102-5d50-add9-aad91924def4)

Back Cover Text (#u5e7cb152-efdb-5a25-9e09-8b18f66efb88)

Introduction (#u25d3fa11-9992-5cfa-98e2-2b9c89d6b203)

Title Page (#u030decd0-2e91-598a-ab69-2a2be61259ee)

About the Author (#ufd778d13-0816-5bef-be79-19b023bf416a)

Dedication (#u7a2f77b7-31b1-596b-90ca-82c2353618f3)

Chapter One (#ulink_e3f11aea-6214-5873-a684-ee7da20db2cd)

Chapter Two (#ulink_57e8d219-93a4-5fea-ae9a-b22e58257871)

Chapter Three (#ulink_5b0abe13-62c6-50b4-a512-c85e9a8db3c6)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_863deec4-b88a-5375-887d-0aabe79b7985)

Shopping in a small-town market shouldn’t be a nightmare. Four thousand square feet. Three aisles crammed with merchandise. A modest dairy and meat department. Fresh produce on Wednesdays: be sure and get there early before it’s all gone. A completely uneventful and uninteresting excursion for most people.

But not for Summer Goodwyn. Yet, what choice did she have? She’d promised to bring homemade oatmeal cookies—without raisins—to the party later today at Dos Estrellas Ranch. After a thorough search of her pantry had netted only half the necessary ingredients, a trip to the market couldn’t be avoided.

Oatmeal without raisins was the only kind of cookies her son, Teddy, ate. If she offered him something else, he might have a meltdown, and that would ruin the party.

She glanced down at him, sitting in the shopping cart basket, shoulders hunched. His rhythmic back and forth motion could be a good thing. He often rocked for hours to soothe himself. Or it could be a warning sign of things to come.

“I was thinking you might want to wear your new blue shirt today.” Blue was his favorite color.

Teddy didn’t answer. Rather, he stared at nothing in particular, his eyes barely visible beneath an unruly fringe of reddish-blond hair. Teddy hated going to the barber shop, although the elderly gentleman who cut his hair was very understanding.

Maybe she should call and beg off the party. On second thought, that wasn’t an option. The Dempseys were good to Summer. Really good. Without them, there’d be no equine therapy program for Teddy and other children like him. Plus, the party was special: a welcome to Mustang Valley for Josh and Cole’s cousin who’d arrived a few days ago. The brothers were excited to see their cousin again and hoped he’d stay, offering him a job at the ranch.

The party was also a celebration of sorts for the entire family. After months and months of financial and emotional struggle in the wake of former patriarch August Dempsey’s death, the ranch was finally on the road to recovery. Not to mention Cole and Violet’s recent elopement and Josh and Cara’s engagement. Gabe and Reese were likely headed for the altar as well, though no formal announcement had yet been made.

For those reasons and more, Summer felt obligated to attend. She briefly considered leaving Teddy at home with his regular sitter. The party was scheduled to start at six—she could leave by eight, no problem. But the Dempsey brothers, along with Gabe’s mother, Raquel, the family’s well-loved matriarch, had insisted Summer bring Teddy. Besides, Josh’s two children were also going to be there.

Summer had relented, of course, though other children at the party would make no difference. Teddy didn’t socialize. With anyone. Children or adults or even his own mother.

A man appeared behind Summer, materializing in her peripheral vision. She assessed him instantly, something she’d learned to do out of necessity. He was young, maybe early thirties. Possibly a ranch hand, given his clothes, though, he didn’t look familiar and Summer knew, or knew of, most everyone in their small community.

Whoever he was, he seemed concerned about nothing more than finding the correct aisle for whatever purchases he was making and promptly wandered off. Good thing, because Teddy had started humming, something he did to calm himself when he became nervous or agitated.

“Well, big guy.” Summer smiled down at him. “Let’s find the vanilla extract and get out of here.”

The other ingredients were already nestled in Teddy’s lap. He’d insisted on holding them.

Summer pushed her cart forward, being exceedingly careful not to touch Teddy. He tolerated contact better now than he used to, thanks to the learning center he was enrolled in and his weekly equine therapy sessions. Still, he picked and chose his moments. Summer could never be sure.

Suddenly two grandmotherly women rounded the corner and started down the aisle toward Summer and Teddy. She froze, halting the cart in midstep. The women were also strangers, likely passing through Mustang Valley on their way to or from Payson. Travelers regularly stopped at the market for refreshments.

Don’t talk to us, please. The words were a mantra inside Summer’s head.

Stare. Make judgments. Gossip about us later in your car. I don’t care. Just please, please, please don’t talk to us.

The woman on the left smiled and nodded. In another minute, possibly less, they would be upon Summer and Teddy and want to pass by.

Summer’s grip on the cart handle tightened until her fingers cramped and her knuckles turned white.

Turn around now. Leave us alone.

Surrendering to the pressure building inside her, she started walking backward, taking the cart with her. Hopefully, Teddy hadn’t seen the women. They were behind him, after all.

No such luck. His humming grew louder, and he started banging the heels of his sneakers on the bottom of the cart basket, a sure indicator he’d noticed the women.

Summer moved faster. Glancing back over her shoulder, she spotted Dennis, the store manager. He’d be no help, and besides, Teddy made him uncomfortable.

“I think the vanilla extract’s in the next aisle,” she said cheerfully, knowing full well it wasn’t.

All at once, the two women increased their strides, reaching Summer and Teddy before they made good on their escape.

The smiling one said, “Do you by chance know where the aspirin is?”

“Front of the store,” Summer said. Go away.

Sweat dampened her palms and collected between her breasts. She could feel rivulets forming at her temples.

“Thank you.” It looked as if the two women might turn around.

Before Summer could release even the tiniest sigh of relief, the one on the left stepped to the side of Summer’s cart and looked directly at Teddy.

“Hi there, young man. How are you today?”

He averted his face and cringed, his rocking and humming gaining momentum. The tune wasn’t distinct, rather he repeated the same five notes over and over.

Bang, bang, bang. His heels hit the cart basket harder and harder.

“He’s kind of old to ride in a cart, isn’t he?” The woman’s tone left no doubt of her opinion. “What are you, son? Eight? Nine?”

“Have a good day.” Summer resumed walking backward, intent only on getting to the one open register and escaping the store before Teddy lost control.

“I’m sorry. My sister didn’t mean anything.” The first woman caught up with Summer, her expression going from concern to suspicion. “Are you okay, young man? Is something the matter?”

Before Summer reached the end of the aisle, what she’d been dreading most happened. The woman reached out and touched Teddy, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“Young man?”

His reaction was instantaneous and, at this point, unstoppable. Ear-splitting shrieks erupted and filled the small market. His rocking turned into thrashing. One by one, he threw the items from his lap onto the floor.

Summer reacted without thinking, having experienced this same outburst countless times and as recently as last week. Reaching the open area near the front of the market, she swiveled the cart one hundred and eighty degrees and ran it toward the entrance. The double doors swooshed open in the nick of time. She and Teddy burst outside into the bright July sunshine.

“Miss! Miss.” The woman ran after them.

Summer hurried. Very little time remained before Teddy passed the point of no return and hurt himself or Summer.

The cart bumped wildly as she ran it over the uneven asphalt. Fumbling for her purse at her side, she dug her keys out and pressed the button on the fob that unlocked the car.

As Teddy’s screeching escalated—she hadn’t thought it possible—she wrenched open the rear passenger door. Keeping one eye glued on him, she grabbed a large black cowboy hat off the floor. So far, so good. He wasn’t trying to climb out of the cart.

Anticipating what lay ahead, she drew in a deep breath, steeled her resolve and took hold of Teddy by the waist. Lifting him out of the cart, she quickly deposited him in the booster car seat.

He lost all control, screaming, kicking the back of the driver’s seat and clawing at her. Trying to contain him with one arm, she plunked the hat on his head. At first, he pushed it off but allowed her second attempt. When the brim fell over his eyes and shrouded him in darkness, he began to quiet.

“Miss? Can I help?”

“We’re all right. Thank you,” Summer said firmly. She didn’t look at the woman and focused her attention entirely on Teddy.

“Is there someone I can call?”

Like 9-1-1 to report her for abusing her child? It had happened before.

Teddy’s shrieks and thrashing resumed.

“We’re okay. Really.” Summer tried reasoning with the woman. “My son is easily upset by strangers.”

Can you not see he’s special-needs? Do I have to say autistic?

“Okay,” the woman muttered. “If you’re sure.”

She left—thank God. Summer lowered her head until it was level with Teddy’s and began singing a childhood rhyme in a soft voice.

“The eensie, weensie spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He hummed and rocked in rhythm to the melody.

“Up came the sun, and it dried up all the rain. And the eensie, weensie spider went up the spout again.”

Two more times she sang the song. Then, taking a chance, she inched a hand closer and buckled him into his booster seat. Next, she slipped away and started the car, turning the air-conditioning on high. July in Arizona could be counted on for hundred-plus degree temperatures. Teddy, however, seemed impervious to the heat.

In colder weather, she used a quilt to calm her son. He preferred the weight and volume over the lightness of a cowboy hat, but in this heat, he’d smother, so she improvised.

“Better now, sweetie pie?” She returned to her position next to him, careful to avoid contact.

He shook his head, the oversize hat flopping. But he seemed to have relaxed so she decided he must be improved.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” A deep male voice interrupted her. “You left your groceries.”

She rose and pivoted, emitting a small gasp at the sight of the cowboy from the market standing so close to her. He held out a plastic grocery sack.

“Wh-what?”

“Your groceries. You forgot them.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I didn’t buy them.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged.

“Did you pay for these?”

Behind Summer, Teddy shifted. He could hear the man even if he couldn’t see him from under the hat’s wide brim. She prayed that he didn’t have another meltdown.

“Don’t worry about it,” the man said. “I could see you were...in a hurry.” Not a trace of reproach or disapproval or shock colored his deep voice.

She blinked, then stared. Who was he?

“Look,” she began to explain. “It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t think anything, ma’am. It’s none of my business.”

Still, she felt the need to explain. The man had been kind, unlike the women who’d been curious and interfering. “My son is autistic and struggles in social situations.”

In her support group, she was encouraged not to make excuses for her son. If people didn’t understand, or if they poked fun at her and Teddy, well, that was their problem. Not hers. Still, it wasn’t easy.

“I understand. I struggle myself at times.” There was an honesty in his statement that took her momentarily aback.

He was handsome. Handsome enough that if Summer wasn’t preoccupied with her son, she’d be intrigued. Brown eyes with flecks of gold studied her intently. Broad shoulders and muscled arms emphasized the snug fit of his black T-shirt. Scuffed cowboy boots added an inch to his already impressive height. Stubble darkened his strong jawline. That, along with a noticeable scar beside his left eye, lent a mysterious, if not dangerous, element to his looks.

“Let me pay you.” Summer reached for her purse, which she’d left on the ground.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted as she handed him several bills.

He hesitated before accepting. Stuffing the money in his jeans pocket, he tugged on the brim of his hat.

“See you around.”

Would he? She almost hoped that were true. After a moment, she came to her senses. Summer didn’t date. Ever. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy being in a relationship. But she and Teddy were a package deal. It wasn’t easy finding an understanding and patient guy who’d accept and love a boy who wasn’t his. Finding a guy who’d accept and love a special-needs child who wasn’t his was nearly impossible.

“Thank you again,” she said.

He seemed almost disappointed, as if he’d expected her to ask him to stay. Before she could say another word, he turned and left, disappearing into the store.

Summer stood and watched him go, the grocery sack growing heavy in her hand.

“Maw Maw.”

Teddy calling her by name. He was definitely feeling better.

“Let’s go home, honey. What do you say?”

She slowly removed the cowboy hat and laid it on the car floor. Getting behind the wheel, she pulled out of the parking lot. There was still time to make the cookies before the party.

“Man,” Teddy said from the rear seat. “Wide haws.”

“That’s right. The man was a cowboy and rides horses.”

Her thoughts drifted to him. She recalled his strong, compelling features. His kindness. The scar by his eye—surely there was a story there. Not that it mattered, but it was too bad she’d forgotten to introduce herself. Neither had she gotten his name.

Only when she reached her driveway did she realize she’d also forgotten the vanilla extract.

* * *

THREE DAYS AT Dos Estrellas Ranch, and Quinn Crenshaw felt as if he’d been living there for months. No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He felt as if he was home, in a way he hadn’t felt at home for a long, long time.

The hammer rested easily in his hand, fitting perfectly in the crook of his palm. Raising it, he brought the head down hard on the nail, enjoying the loud thwang and the reverberation running up the length of his arm.

This was good work. Real work. Meaningful work. He’d missed it during the last two years, three months and fourteen days. For the majority of that time, he’d labored as a janitor, earning pennies an hour. Prisoner wages. Most of it was spent in the commissary. The remainder of his savings, thirty-two dollars and change, had been given to him when he was released six weeks ago.

His parents had funded his trip to Mustang Valley. Without their help, he couldn’t have afforded the gas for the fourteen-hour drive and the new tires his six-year-old pickup had desperately needed. Nor would he have had the cash to purchase the woman’s groceries earlier today at the market. He hadn’t wanted to take her money, but he could see it was important for her to repay him.

She was pretty, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since their encounter. Freckles were his undoing, and the small sprinkling across her nose and cheeks was the perfect amount. She also appeared devoted to her son and was dealing with difficult circumstances to the best of her abilities.

Both were qualities Quinn admired and appreciated. His parents hadn’t wavered once in their support of him during his arrest, trial and imprisonment.

Granted, he was reading a lot into a brief meeting and could be coming to a wrong conclusion. Quinn would bet, however, that he was right about the woman. Too bad he’d likely never see her again. And if he did see her, he was hardly in a position to pursue more than a casual acquaintance. He was innocent of any crime and completely exonerated thanks to new evidence. That didn’t change the fact he was an ex-con with a record, one not cleared yet.

She’d said her son was autistic. Quinn had heard of the disorder, but his knowledge ended there. He might learn more while at Dos Estrellas. The equine therapy program that operated at the ranch currently had over thirty special-needs children enrolled, some coming from as far away as Scottsdale, Fountain Hills and Phoenix. Cara had told him as much yesterday. She was his cousin Josh’s fiancée and the head of the therapy program. Quinn would be one of the groomsmen in their wedding next month.

“What are you doing, mister?”

Hearing a child’s voice, Quinn straightened. He’d been bent over the wooden arena post, repairing a loose railing, and hadn’t heard the girl and horse approach.

“Fixing this.” He pointed at the railing with his hammer.

“Why?” She spoke with a pronounced lisp.

“It was loose. Now it’s not.”

The girl, an adorable pixie, giggled impishly from where she sat atop a brown mare. Ten or twelve—he wasn’t good at judging ages—her distinctive almond-shaped eyes narrowed to small slits as her smile widened.

Quinn grinned in return, something he rarely did. The girl was responsible. Children were open and much more accepting than adults. He could relax around them.

What did his daughter look and act like? Was she cute and bubbly or shy and quiet? The questions plagued Quinn constantly and angered him on those nights when sleep eluded him. The private investigator he’d hired hadn’t located his daughter or her mother, claiming they’d gone into deep hiding. Quinn couldn’t disagree. His own efforts had failed to produce results.

Running out of money, he’d let the PI go after only a week. Until one of the feelers he’d put out netted results or he landed a job that paid more than room and board, his search had come to a grinding halt.

“Is that a scar on your face?” The young girl pushed at her pink riding helmet, which had slipped low on her brow. A harness secured her to the saddle, preventing her from falling off.

“Yep.”

“How did you get it?” she asked.

“An accident.”

A fellow inmate’s fist had “accidentally” struck Quinn’s face during a fight his first week in the California state prison when he’d refused to give up his place in the cafeteria line. He’d spent two days in the infirmary with a mild concussion, three cracked ribs, multiple contusions and a dozen stitches.

Quinn learned fast. The fight wasn’t his last one, but it was the last one he lost. Twenty-seven months in all had been added to his sentence. Fortunately, he hadn’t had to serve them.

“Lizzie.” The instructor rushed over to the girl. The brown mare, well trained, did no more than bob her head. “I told you not to ride off.”

A group of six students had been practicing at the other end of the arena.

“Sorry.” Lizzie smiled at Quinn before turning a contrite face to her instructor. “I didn’t hear you.”

“You know the rules.” The instructor took hold of the horse’s bridle. “No riding off and no talking to strangers.”

“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.”

At least she hadn’t said ex-convict. “Former champion.”

“Bull riding?”

“That was Josh and Cole’s event, though I did give it a go now and then. Mostly then. Bronc busting, bareback and saddle was my choice of torture, along with a little steer wrestling.”

“Torture?”

She glanced down at her son again, who continued to stare at Quinn’s left ear. It should have made him uncomfortable. For whatever reason, it didn’t.

“Rodeoing isn’t exactly easy.” But it was a hell of a lot easier than prison.

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day.” Quinn wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to be so forthright with Summer.

“I hear you’re taking to cattle ranching. Josh says you’re a natural.”

“Cara offered me a job. Helping with the mustangs and the therapy program.”

Summer’s mouth opened, then shut and thinned to a flat line. Whatever she was going to say, she’d changed her mind.

Her reaction bothered him. “Don’t feel you have to stay and keep me company.”

“Sorry.” Her denial was quick and not quite believable. “I should probably help with dinner, too. I don’t want to leave everything to Cara and Raquel.”

“Sure.” His ready acquiescence wasn’t entirely believable, either. Not to his ears anyway. Apparently not to Summer’s, either.

For the first time she faltered. “I... It’s not...”

“Is there a problem with me working for Cara?”

“No. What gave you that idea?”

“Because you changed the second I mentioned it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful opportunity.” When Cara called her name, she couldn’t escape fast enough. “Excuse me.” Checking on her son, she let out a soft, “Oh.”

Quinn felt it then. Teddy was tracing his index finger along the engraving on his leather belt depicting a herd of galloping horses.

“Hey, son.”

“Haws. Wunning.”

“Yes, the horses are running.” Summer blinked back tears.

Quinn issued the invitation without thinking. “He can stay with me if he wants.”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently, her tears instantly drying. “No,” she repeated, starting for the kitchen. Except Teddy didn’t follow her. “Come on, honey.”

He stuck out his lower lip, his concentration focused on his finger as it traveled from one horse to the other on Quinn’s belt.

Summer wavered, visibly torn.

“I have a solution,” Quinn said amicably. “I’ll go with you and Teddy.”

Again Summer shook her head in protest. But when Quinn started walking, Teddy did, too.


Chapter Two (#ulink_e0469b2d-e2a2-5d9e-9ca1-16e48bee8561)

Quinn had been to Arizona many times during the years he competed. There were several well-known rodeos in the state, the Parada del Sol being one of the biggest and most popular. He’d heard of Mustang Valley from his cousins, mostly how they’d refused to set foot in the place again after what they viewed as their father’s abandonment, but he hadn’t visited.

Then their father’s death had brought them home after a long, long absence. In a way, it had also brought Quinn there.

He stared at the distant outline of the McDowell Mountains, grateful for his recent good fortune. This was a place worth living in and not just because he’d spent the last two-plus years calling a stark concrete cell the size of a closet home.

Dusk fell, and the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving behind a half moon hovering above Pinnacle Peak. A flock of doves took flight from a nearby paloverde tree and winged their way into the great expanse of the desert. Distant lowing from some of Dos Estrellas’ twelve hundred head of cattle grew softer and less frequent as they settled in for the night.

Quinn stood in the front courtyard of the Dempsey house. Behind the ranch and a good two miles north lay the town. In this direction, however, the land seemed to extend forever.

Inside the house, the party continued strong. He’d escaped after dinner and come outside, hoping no one was offended. His need for solitude wasn’t the fault of the guests. They were all nice and cheerfully welcomed him, though some couldn’t hide their curiosity.

He simply liked being alone and shutting out all the noise until only his own thoughts remained. At times the craving was too powerful to resist, and he gave in.

That might be the reason he liked and understood Teddy. Sometimes a person didn’t want to be touched or talked to or bothered.

Quinn thought Summer must also understand Teddy. At least, she tried. She certainly respected his boundaries.

He compared his own situation to Summer’s, noting the differences. He’d been denied the chance to parent his daughter and longed for contact with her. Summer, however, lived with Teddy but wasn’t allowed to touch him. How hard that must be for her.

An exterior light came on. The next instant, the front door to the house, a large and ornately engraved oak panel, swung open. Summer stepped outside as if by thinking of her Quinn had made her appear. Teddy, as usual, stood beside her.

She obviously hadn’t seen Quinn yet and assumed she had the courtyard to herself. He would have relished the chance to observe her unnoticed, except in the next instant Josh’s two young children tumbled outside like a pair of puppies set free after being confined all day.

Nathan, Josh’s three-year-old son, bounded over to where Quinn sat on the stone bench by the fountain. “Hi, Uncle Quinn. What are you doing?”

The boy had started calling him “Uncle” without any encouragement. While technically inaccurate, Quinn didn’t mind.

“Nothing much. What about you?”

“Daddy says I’m being bad. Too noisy.”

The boy was followed by his ever-present shadow, his eighteen-month-old sister, Kimberly. She babbled in a baby language Quinn couldn’t translate.

His throat strangely tightened. His daughter—hell, he didn’t even know her name—was maybe six months younger than Nathan. He didn’t know her exact age, either. Damn. It wasn’t fair. Frustration built before he could contain it.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Hearing Summer’s voice, he glanced up to see her and Teddy approach.

“No problem,” Quinn answered. “It’s a beautiful evening. A shame not to enjoy it.”

“Those two were being a bit rambunctious. I offered to take them outside. Teddy needed a break anyway.”

Quinn angled his head to better see Teddy. “I know how you feel, pal. Crowds get to me, too.”

The boy rewarded Quinn by making eye contact for a few seconds.

“He likes you,” Summer said, a trace of wonder in her voice.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Noooo,” Kimberly abruptly cried out, her one understandable word. Frowning, she pushed at Nathan.

He retaliated by kneeling in front of the fountain, dipping his hand in the tepid water and splashing her. She screamed as if doused with boiling lava.

Quinn stood. Before he could intervene, Summer did.

“Hey, you two. Behave.”

“She hit me,” Nathan objected, scrambling to his feet.

“You’re bigger and older than her.”

She attempted to reason with the boy, explaining how it was his job to set a good example for his sister. From the way Nathan stuck out his lower lip, Quinn could see he wasn’t taking the lesson to heart. Beside him, Teddy began humming. Quinn didn’t think it bode well.

Something he hadn’t thought of in years suddenly popped into his head. Reaching for his wallet, he extracted a dollar bill. Teddy watched Quinn’s every move as he executed a number of intricate folds. Before too long, the bill resembled a swan. A rather crooked swan, mind you. Quinn’s skills were rusty.

“Here. Take it.” He handed the swan to Teddy.

After lengthy and careful consideration, Teddy took it.

“Come on.” Quinn walked to the fountain, motioning to Teddy.

The boy just stared, his eyes void of expression.

Quinn pointed to the water. “Swans like to swim.”

By now, Summer, Nathan and even Kimberly watched in fascination.

Finally Teddy complied. At the fountain’s edge, he gingerly set the paper swan on the water. It bobbed gently and floated toward the center of the fountain.

“I want one, too.” Nathan rushed Quinn and hugged his thigh.

“You have to be good.”

“I will. I be good.”

Quinn quickly constructed a second swan. Nathan smashed its tail before launching it in the water. He didn’t appear to mind. Kimberly eagerly squeezed between the boys. Teddy remained rooted to his spot, ignoring both other children.

Summer sidled up beside Quinn. “Where did you learn to make those?”

“My sister. She was into origami for a while when we were kids. I can also make an eagle and a ring. Or, I could. Maybe not now.”

“A man of many talents.”

He liked the silky quality of her voice and the fluid grace of her movements. “I’d forgotten about it until now.”

“Memories are funny things. They can be buried for years and surface all at once. Then there are those that are never far away.”

Quinn had a lot of those kind.

By unspoken agreement, they moved to the bench, where they could keep the children in sight. It wasn’t a large bench, and only a few inches separated them. Aided by the exterior light that had come on automatically, Quinn saw a tiny jeweled stud in her right ear, appreciated her attractive profile and discerned at least three distinct shades of color in her hair, ranging from blond to gold to red.

He shouldn’t ask but he did anyway. “Is Teddy’s dad in the picture? I noticed you came to the party alone.”

“He is.” Summer shrugged. “Barely.”

“A shame.”

“I agree. Teddy was three when the doctors officially diagnosed him. By then, our quiet but seemingly happy child had almost completely withdrawn and barely spoke. Hal didn’t take the diagnosis well. Up until then, he hoped whatever was wrong with Teddy was treatable and reversible. We divorced about a year later. He was visiting every few months.” Her voice altered slightly. “He remarried this past winter. Since then, he’s been coming by every couple of weeks. I think his new wife has more to do with it than any sense of responsibility.”

Quinn chose to keep his opinion of Summer’s ex to himself.

She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I can’t believe I told you all that. We barely know each other.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers.”

“Teddy doesn’t seem to notice the lack of a father in his life. Truthfully, he’s been more aware of you in the last fifteen minutes than of Hal in the past year.” She stared into the distance.

Quinn wondered if she saw the same beauty and majesty he had earlier or if she took it for granted. He liked to think the former. Summer struck him as a sensitive person.

She cleared her throat. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“I was wrong earlier. You should accept the job. You’ll be wonderful. With the horses and the children.”

“You have good reason to be worried. I spent over two years in prison.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“To have doubts, then.”

She glanced at the children. Teddy continued to focus on the paper swans, now becoming waterlogged. The younger two had abandoned the fountain to play with a tennis ball they’d found in a bush.

“Josh and Cole told me you’re innocent. That new evidence cleared you.”

“I didn’t hurt the guy. But we did get into an altercation that night in the bar. There was some shoving. Shouting. Threats. I’d like to say he had it coming. Truthfully, I’ve had...problems with my temper in the past. Still do.”

“You’re kidding. You strike me as pretty laid-back.”

“Ah. Well, I work on it. Constantly. Prison’s good for changing a person’s perspective. Maybe the only thing it’s good for.”

“You didn’t let it destroy you, Quinn. That’s what’s important.”

She was wrong. Prison had destroyed a part of him he could never get back. The part that had fearlessly faced life.

“The guy was a jerk.” Quinn had called him far worse names when not in earshot of kids.

“What did he do that made you angry?” she asked. “Besides being a jerk. Hit on your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

She drew back. “I wasn’t serious.”

“He insulted her. And when I say insult, I’m being generous. We’d both had a lot to drink. The difference was, I’d just come off a big win while he’d lost. My friends separated us and got me out of the bar, then took me to my truck. The guy left the bar a while later and was assaulted in the parking lot. He nearly died from a brain hemorrhage and was in a coma for weeks. When he finally regained consciousness, he identified me as his assailant even though the attack happened so fast he didn’t see the guy’s face.”

“Why would he do that?”

“A blue shirt. I was wearing one. And apparently his assailant was, too.”

“Are you saying you were arrested and convicted based on the fact you were wearing a blue shirt? I don’t believe it.”

“More than a dozen people witnessed our argument in the bar.”

“But not the attack. Didn’t you have an alibi? What about your friends? Your girlfriend? Surely they vouched for you.”

“They couldn’t. After they left me at my truck, they went home or back to their hotel rooms, including Jenny. She was mad. She’d grown pretty tired of me by that point. I crawled into the backseat and went to sleep. No one saw me until the next morning.”

“What about security cameras? Weren’t there any?”

“Only one and it had been broken for months. The bar owner hadn’t gotten around to fixing it.”

She shook her head. “This sounds like a bad TV show.”

“My guilt was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt in the minds of the jurors.”

“Doesn’t that make you mad?”

“Yes, it did. Really mad. I had a lot of trouble controlling my rage the first six months in prison. Counseling helped. Now that I’m out, I try not to dwell on the past. It doesn’t do any good.”

“What happened? How were you exonerated?” Summer leaned in.

Quinn did, too, finding her proximity impossible to resist. “DNA evidence. None of mine was at the scene, which didn’t make a difference to the jurors. But there was blood not belonging to me or the guy on his clothing. He must have gotten in a swing at some point. Problem was no match was found in the federal DNA database. Six months ago, I caught a break when the real assailant was arrested for another unrelated assault. This time, the victim was his wife.”

Summer gasped.

“She told the police her husband had a history of violence and was involved in several bar fights. The police were able to match his DNA to the sample from the guy’s shirt. It took a while, but I was cleared and the right man put in prison.”

“I’m really glad, Quinn.”

“Yeah.” He blew out a long breath. Did she have to look at him so earnestly and with such compassion? “There’s more.” He hesitated. “I have a daughter.”

“You do?” She brightened. “Where does she live? How old is she? Is she going to visit?”

He smiled. Next to kids, she more than anyone could coax one out of him. “I don’t have the answer to any of those questions. I’ve never seen her. I only just found out about her. A friend of Jenny’s told me after I got released. She thought I should know.”

“Jenny hid your daughter from you?”

“I don’t blame her. I’m a convict.”

“Was. The girl is your daughter. You have rights.”

“I’ve been trying to find them. I even hired a private investigator.”

“Any luck?”

“Not yet. I need this job. PIs aren’t cheap.”

Summer looked stricken. “Now I’m even sorrier about earlier.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

She surprised him by saying, “I might be able to help you.”

“You can?” He didn’t see how.

“I work part-time for an attorney in Scottsdale. He specializes in family law. We occasionally have to track down errant spouses, some of whom have taken their children.”

“I can’t afford an attorney, either.” Quinn had already gone that route.

“He might talk to you pro bono. Offer some free advice. Let me ask,” she said when he hesitated. “What harm can it do? You may be able to receive compensation from the state.”

“Sue them?”

“You were falsely imprisoned. They may offer a settlement. In fact, I’m surprised they didn’t already. It’s worth checking into.”

Pride and hope waged a battle inside Quinn. He didn’t like taking handouts. Then again, he’d be a fool to refuse help and possibly money when he desperately needed both. “Okay.”

By some miracle, Nathan and Kimberly continued to play without fighting. Teddy stayed put by the fountain, absorbed in his own world.

Feeling Summer’s warm hand on his arm, Quinn turned.

“I’m glad you told me about everything,” she said. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

She looked directly at him with those enormous hazel eyes, and Quinn felt a small crack form in the shield protecting his damaged heart. He stood before the crack had a chance to widen.

“We should probably get back to the party.” He went over and collected his niece and nephew, ignoring the confusion clouding Summer’s features.

She was exactly the kind of woman he could fall for. Unfortunately, he was exactly the kind of man she should avoid at all costs. If she didn’t realize it, he certainly did and would avoid any involvement for both their sakes.

* * *

THERE WERE CURRENTLY six therapy-program horses being housed in the row of covered stalls behind the horse stables, all of them rehabilitated mustangs from the sanctuary Cara ran. In addition to the stalls, the program had also built the small riding arena where Quinn met Lizzie.

The nearby corral was sometimes reserved for private lessons when a more confined area was needed. On most days, Cole used it to train horses. With two hundred wild mustangs to rehabilitate and adopt out, training had quickly become his specialty and main job at the ranch. Quinn was lucky to find the corral empty.

Deciding to familiarize himself with his new charges, he led all six horses from their stalls to the corral. Normally, controlling this many horses at one time was difficult. But the well-trained and quiet-natured group obediently followed behind the mare Quinn held by a lead rope. At the corral, the horses stood and waited until he opened the gate.

Unhooking the rope, he clucked to the mare and patted her chunky hind end. The other five horses followed through the gate, needing very little encouragement from Quinn. Once inside, they came to a stop and either nosed the ground or stood at the corral railing, snorting and swishing their tails.

Two days working for the therapy program and Quinn had already learned a lot about the ins and outs. This time of year, because of the warm temperatures, students scheduled their lessons either early in the morning, finishing by nine, or in the evenings, starting at six thirty when it was less hot.

Just last week, a floodlight had been installed to aid the evening lessons. While the remainder of Dos Estrellas Ranch rested after a long day, the therapy program operated in full force. None of the Dempseys were there, with the occasional exception of Josh, who showed up because of Cara. Mostly, he stayed home to watch the kids.

He’d been there last night when Quinn arrived to observe the class, joining Cara while she advised Quinn on how the program worked. There’d been five students, two instructors, three volunteer helpers, one administrator, and five sets of parents. Summer and Teddy weren’t among those gathered. Quinn admittedly looked for them despite his vow to keep his distance.

During the lesson, he’d made a point of observing the horses in action with the students and the program staff. Today he wanted to see how the horses acted without riders and a small crowd distracting them. He was specifically interested in any personality quirks that might interfere with performance or abilities being overlooked and underutilized.

He put the horses through their paces, getting them to trot and lope in a circle by swinging a lead rope in a circle over his head. The chunky brown mare named Mama was undeniably in charge. She might be a lamb when Lizzie or the other kids rode her but as far as preserving order among this small herd, Mama was a force to be reckoned with.

Within ten minutes, Quinn had made a number of important discoveries. Pancake and George Clooney didn’t like to be separated and stuck together unless forced apart. Stargazer refused to lead with her left—though that might not be a problem as the students never loped the horses. Chubbs became agitated when approached from behind. Gidget’s one flaw was a choppy gait. Then again, her rider last night had laughed when rocked from side to side.

Concerned most about Chubbs, Quinn examined him from nose to tail, expecting to find a sore hip or abscessed hoof. Something Chubbs felt the need to protect. What Quinn found gave him cause for concern. The old gelding wasn’t entirely blind, but he did have some vision loss. That alone wouldn’t drum him out of the therapy program, but the staff should be made aware and take necessary precautions.

None of the therapy horses were particularly good-looking. A couple were overweight, including Mama. On the positive side, they were a dependable, reliable and trustworthy lot. Perfect babysitters.

Quinn leaned his back against the corral railing. Sweat soaked his shirt, causing it to cling to his skin. Removing his cowboy hat, he knocked it against his leg to dislodge the dust.

What he’d give for a cold glass of water to quench his parched throat. This was hot, hard work. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for a million dollars. Quinn had considered returning to the rodeo circuit when he was first released. This was the better choice. Easing slowly into post-prison life made more sense than plowing full steam ahead without having any direction.

Turning, he caught sight of Cara, who, after yesterday, was officially his boss for the three to four hours a day he spent with the mustang sanctuary and therapy program. Closing the gate behind her, she wended her way toward him, petting a friendly nose here and there as the horses meandered over to greet her.

“A little warm to be out here,” she said.

“I’m about done.” He nodded at Chubbs. “Did you know he’s partially blind?”

“I didn’t.” Cara evaluated the horse with crossed arms and a narrowed gaze. “Are you sure? He doesn’t act blind.”

“Haven’t you noticed he dislikes being approached from behind?” Quinn demonstrated, using Mama.

“I have but I didn’t associate it with partial blindness.” Cara nodded approvingly. “How’d you know?”

“I had a blind donkey before. It’s easy to overlook.”

“You rode a donkey?”

“I roped a donkey. Easier to use them than calves when training a green roping horse. They don’t spook like calves or tire as easily.”

Quinn and Cara discussed the other program horses until she asked, “Is there any chance you can swing by the tuxedo rental store this week for your fitting? The wedding’s going to be here before you know it.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes twinkled. Getting married looked good on her. On his cousin, too.

Quinn had grown up with both Josh and Cole back in California. They were more like brothers, having lived in the same town and within miles of each other. But he’d always been a little closer to Josh. Seeing him about to get married to a great gal and become a father for the third time cheered Quinn, as did Cole’s relationship with Violet. It made him believe there was still good in the world.

As far as Quinn was concerned, no one deserved to be happy more than his cousins. They’d suffered a lot, having a father who’d abandoned them at a young age and then being raised by a bitter, angry mother. Obtaining co-ownership of the ranch when August died last fall didn’t make up for years of neglect.

Finding their future at Dos Estrellas did. It had changed them. Given them an entirely new outlook. Maybe the same would happen to Quinn.

Feeling his pocket vibrate, he plucked out his cell phone and frowned when he didn’t recognize the number.

“Excuse me,” he said to Cara, stepping away and answering. “Hello.”

“Quinn? It’s Summer. I hope you don’t mind my calling. Cara gave me your number.”

“No, it’s all right.” He glanced at Cara, who smiled guiltily. Apparently, she’d guessed the identity of his caller. “What’s up?”

“I know it’s short notice, but my boss had a cancellation this afternoon. He said he’d be glad to talk to you, if you can be here by four.”

Was it a coincidence he got off work at three thirty?

Cara gave him a what-are-you-waiting-for wave, confirming his suspicions that she was in cahoots with Summer.

“Thanks, but I—”

“I’m sure Martin can help you,” Summer insisted.

Quinn paused.

Her long sigh carried across the connection. “I’m being pushy, and I shouldn’t. Finding your daughter is your business.” She sighed again. “Sometimes I overstep. It’s a bad habit.”

He pictured her sitting at her desk, multitasking while they talked because she was probably a doer and a go-getter. His counselor in prison had been the same way. Except she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Summer and was about thirty years older.

“Fine.” He heard himself agreeing even before he’d decided. “See you at four. Can you text me the address?”

“Of course.” She sounded surprised, then pleased. “I’ll tell Martin. See you then.”

Aware of Cara’s stare, Quinn saved Summer’s number to his contacts before clearing his screen, silently chiding himself while he did. What reason would he have to call her?

“You planned this,” he said to Cara, acting madder than he was.

“I did give her your number when she told me why she wanted to call.”

Quinn grabbed the lead rope from where he’d hung it on the corral post and hooked it to Mama’s halter. Cara tagged along when he led the mare through the gate. As expected, the other five horses trailed behind them.

“Come on, Quinn.” Cara squeezed past Mama. “She likes you, and I think you like her, too. In fact, I’m sure you like her.”

Did being his cousin’s fiancée automatically make Cara his friend? One with rights to butt into his personal business?

Quinn ground to a halt. The horses did, too, bumping into each other and jerking their heads back.

That was the problem with happy people. They wanted everyone else to be happy, too, and went to great lengths to accomplish it.

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Cara. Besides, Summer can do a whole lot better than me.”

“She’s not like that. She accepts everyone for who they are. No judging.”

Quinn didn’t doubt it. Nonetheless, he said, “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“What makes you think you will?”

He groaned. “She needs someone who can step up. Be there for her and Teddy unconditionally and without hesitation. Someone who doesn’t come with his own set of problems and can put them first. I’m not that man. And after what I’ve been through, I may never be him.”

This time when he started for the stall, Cara didn’t go with him. She stayed behind, apparently stunned into silence.


Chapter Three (#ulink_2ae6f531-393a-50c9-8f43-d37d944dfdf1)

Summer struggled to concentrate. Quinn was due any minute. He hadn’t sounded enthused when she called earlier offering him the open appointment, but surely he’d show up. Finding his daughter was too important to him.

“What’s with you today?” Her coworker Alicia plopped a stack of papers on her desk. In the years Summer had been employed with the small law firm, paralegals had come and gone. Alicia was one of the best.

“Nothing.” Summer gave the stack a passing glance. They’d talked earlier about the copies and packages needing to be mailed before the end of the day.

“Could have fooled me. You’ve been on edge all afternoon. Is Teddy okay?”

“He’s great. Improving every day and talking more and more.”

Most important, there’d been no outbursts for almost a week, which had to be a record. She didn’t count the battle they’d engaged in this morning over which shorts to wear or the one yesterday over lunch—she’d run out of peanut butter, an earth-shattering disaster. Those types of battles were par for the course as far as Summer was concerned. A regular part of their daily routine.

“Then what is it?” Alicia asked. She understood a lot of what Summer had to deal with. Alicia cared for her ailing grandfather, whose senility continually worsened.

“Just a lot going on.” Summer patted the stack. “I’d better get started on these.”

A few minutes later, she gave a nervous start when the door to the office opened and Quinn strode in. He removed his hat with one hand, stopped when he spotted her behind the desk and nodded.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She stood, automatically brushing the front of her slacks, though not a speck of lint dotted them. “Have a seat. I’ll let Martin know you’re here.” She returned to her computer and opened a messaging window, sending her boss a quick alert. Seconds later, he responded. She read it out loud. “He’ll be a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Quinn picked one of the five empty visitor chairs in which to wait. He was their last appointment for the day.

Summer came out from behind her desk. “Can I get you a bottle of water or some coffee?”

“Water would be great, if you don’t mind.” He rested his cowboy hat on his lap, unable to look more uncomfortable if he tried.

She hurried to a nearby multipurpose room where a refrigerator was stored. It held a variety of beverages exclusively for clients. She grabbed the closest bottled water, decided it wasn’t cold enough, replaced it and chose one farther back on the shelf.

“Seriously?” she asked herself as she took the cold bottle anyway. On the way back she nearly collided with Alicia. “Oops. Excuse me.”

“Whoa, girl. Slow down. It’s not as if he’s going to spontaneously disappear on you.”

“What? No. Don’t be silly.”

“Right.” Alicia laughed, a full, rich sound. “And your all-fire hurry has nothing to do with that fine-looking man in the reception area and how you went into spasms the second he arrived.”

“Spasms? I think I’m insulted.” And impatient.

“Go on. Get outta here. I’ll answer the phone if it rings.”

“Humph.” Summer, not nearly as put out as she pretended to be, pursed her lips and slipped past Alicia. By the time she reached Quinn in the waiting area, she wore a smile. “Here you go.” Handing him the bottle—the cold bottle—she returned to her desk, which afforded her a nice, unobstructed view of him.

Checking her computer screen to make sure Martin hadn’t contacted her during her short absence, she attacked the stack of documents Alicia had left on her desk.

“Thanks again for setting this up, Summer.”

Hearing Quinn’s voice, she glanced up. “Glad to do it.”

“How’s Teddy?”

“Good. He’s in after-school daycare. I can’t always coerce him into going. Today I got lucky. You may see him this evening. He has his equine therapy class. He hasn’t actually ridden yet. Won’t let anyone help him up into the saddle or put the harness on him. But he loves to pet and groom the horses and lead them around.” She didn’t add that Quinn might see her, too. She usually accompanied Teddy.

“I’ll be sure to look for him.”

“How’s the new job going?” She should be working. Hadn’t she promised Alicia the packages would be ready before five?

“I’m learning the ropes,” he said. “Slowly but surely.”

“Do you like it? That’s the important part.”

“Yeah. I do.”

Quinn shifted nervously, his right boot softly tapping the floor. He didn’t look as though he’d spent a lot of hours in offices. Or, she suddenly realized, the hours he’d spent in them had been difficult to endure. Nothing fun about conferring with your defense attorney and fighting for your freedom.

“Cara’s lucky to have you. You arrived in Mustang Valley at the perfect time.”

“I did.”

She’d meant that Cara needed assistance because the demands of her personal life had increased. The thoughtful quality in Quinn’s tone implied something entirely different. She was even more curious about him than before.

Martin stepped in from the hall. “Mr. Crenshaw. It’s nice to meet you.”

Quinn stood. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

The two men shook hands, and Martin invited Quinn into his office.

With nothing more to distract her, Summer quickly finished assembling the packages and then updated Martin’s court calendar. She was more than a receptionist for the modest practice. In addition to managing the office, she handled all the billing and accounting. Martin was generous, allowing her to occasionally work from home by logging into her office computer remotely.

At about four forty-five, the office door abruptly opened. Summer stood at the lateral file and, hearing the sound, turned. Her heart immediately dropped to her knees.

“Hal. What are you doing here?” Her ex-husband was the last person she’d expected to see.

“I need to talk to you. It’s about Teddy.”

“You couldn’t have just called me at home? You needed to ambush me at work?”

“This isn’t an ambush.”

Yet that was how it felt to Summer. He liked having the advantage, which taking her by surprise gave him, and frequently pulled stunts like this.

“You’ll have to wait until I’m done.” She turned her back on him, ready to resume her search for the files while also sending him a clear message.

“Dennis called me the other day.”

The manager of the market? “Why would I care about that?”

“Because he told me Teddy had a tantrum and upset some of his customers.”

Summer didn’t take kindly to Hal’s use of the word tantrum. And were the two women really that upset? She refrained from commenting for the moment and walked to her desk. “I left the store right away. It’s not as if I enjoy making a scene.”

“That’s the point, Summer. According to Dennis, Teddy’s had a bunch of tantrums in the market.”

“A bunch? There’s been maybe three.”

“And how many has he had in other places you haven’t told me about?”

“Outbursts are part of his disorder. You know that.”

“Seems to me, he’s been having more and more lately.”

“That’s not true.” Summer’s defenses instantly rose and, rather than insist he leave, she continued to engage him. A tiny voice warned her that was just what he wanted. “Teddy’s been better behaved at home and the learning center than ever.”

“Apparently not in public.” Hal stood his ground. He was a handsome man, when he wasn’t scowling. At the moment he stared at her with glinting eyes and a jutting jaw.

“Dr. Hamilton says Teddy’s outbursts can be his way of exerting his independence or his frustration at communicating and not being understood.”

“I’m not buying one bit of that.”

“Right. Because you’re such an authority on autism.” Anger flared inside her. Hal could ignite it with a single remark. “You see Teddy barely more than a few hours a month. You’re in no position to lecture me.”

“It’s just like you to overreact.”

“Is that what I’m doing? You’ve refused to go with me to Teddy’s doctor appointments or family counseling sessions for the last four years. You’ve never read even one of the books I bought.”

“I’ve read plenty of books, Summer,” he said with scorn.

“Ones Loren bought? Is she behind your sudden interest in Teddy?”

It was unfair of her to blame Hal’s new wife, but ever since the two of them got married, Loren had been pushing him to take more of an interest in Teddy. They were trying to adopt, and it looked good on their application. Right thing, wrong reason, which was what bothered Summer. If not, she’d welcome Hal’s and even Loren’s interest in her son.

“Leave her out of this,” he said, his voice increasing in volume. “And you need to start shopping someplace other than the market where everyone in town goes.”

Where his buddy the manager worked, she almost spat out. Instead, she said, “I don’t always have time to drive into Scottsdale for a few items.”

“Obviously something about the market triggers Teddy’s tantrums.”

Summer had reached her boiling point. “You need to go, Hal. Now.”

Alicia emerged from around the corner, a stern expression on her face. She knew Hal, having met him once before. “What’s going on here?”

“Hal was just leaving.” Summer would rather not involve her coworker in her personal problems.

He sent her a dangerous look.

“Okay.” Alicia reluctantly retreated.

Summer had the feeling her coworker wouldn’t go far. “I wasn’t kidding, Hal.” She struggled to calm her anxious breathing. “Leave now. I won’t risk my job because of you.”

“We aren’t done with this.”

At the sound of footsteps, they both spun to see Quinn appear, his hat still held his hand. He stopped and locked eyes with Hal for a full three seconds before turning to Summer.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Quinn moved toward her, his stance protective.

“Who’s this?” Hal demanded.

Summer would have put him off. Unfortunately, Quinn stepped forward before she could insist Hal get out now.

“I’m Quinn Crenshaw. And you are?”

“None of your damn business.” Hal’s gaze left Quinn only to return, recognition visibly dawning in his eyes. “You the Dempseys’ ex-con cousin?”

“Hal!” Summer was aghast. He could be incredibly rude at times.

Quinn didn’t flinch or blink or move a single muscle except to talk. “I am Josh and Cole’s cousin.”

Hal’s stare intensified. “They hired you to work at the therapy program.”

Dennis, the market manager, must have told Hal. He gleaned a lot of local information, intentionally or unintentionally, by waiting on customers.

“They did,” Quinn confirmed.

Hal advanced. “You don’t go near my son, you hear me? You do, and I’ll call the police.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Summer couldn’t believe him. “What’s the matter with you?”

“He’s a criminal.”

“He was found innocent!”

Not only did Alicia return, Martin accompanied her. Being in his early sixties made no difference. He stood up to Hal like a man many years younger.

“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.”

“Bullies come in all ages.” Summer was well aware of that sad fact. And Teddy wasn’t always the target. She received her share of cruel comments and dirty looks.

“I grew up tough and with a bad temper that took very little to trigger,” Quinn said.

“It would be hard not to develop a temper after what you’ve been through.”

“Prison wasn’t the first time I spent behind bars. I’ve been in jail more than once, and not for unpaid traffic tickets.”

If he intended to shock Summer, he hadn’t. “For minor infractions, I’m sure.”

“Fighting isn’t minor. Neither is drunk and disorderly.”

He didn’t have to add that a previous record hadn’t served him well at his trial.

“I haven’t had a drink since my arrest. Personal choice. I’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t intend to blow it. I may not get another one.”

“A good philosophy to have. I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“My parents had every right to be angry with me and disappointed and ashamed. Only they weren’t. My father told me once during a visit that what mattered most was the kind of man I became, not the man I was. I remember those words every day.”

“He’s a wise man, and you’re wise to have heeded him.”

Quinn shrugged. “You’re never too old to learn, I guess. Or, in my case, too stubborn.”

Summer’s phone beeped, her reminder that she had thirty minutes to pick up Teddy. Setting an automatic daily alarm helped keep her on track when she got busy.

She swiped her phone screen, silencing the alarm. “I have to go.” The learning center was a twenty-minute drive. She had just enough time to make it, barring any traffic jams. “Will I see you later at the riding arena?”

Convinced he was about to say no, he surprised her by nodding. “You will.”

She stifled the impulse to hug him.

Parting, Quinn got into his truck and Summer her car. He waited while she backed out of her parking space. She gave him a little wave before pulling ahead.




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