A look that he’d wanted to share—and did by impulsively kissing her the moment he had her alone. There was no question about it, the lady stirred his blood.
She looked worn now as she looked up at him. Worn but very satisfied with herself. This was what she did best, he thought. She loved it and it showed. Lucky for his parents.
Ginny leaned back in the chair. The old leather chair creaked and groaned at every movement. A little like her shoulders, she thought, rotating her neck. The aches and stiffness refused to retreat. She’d been hunched over the desk for what seemed like an eternity now, taking breaks only to make calls and join her sister and the others for a meal. Just long enough to notice that Jenny seemed a great deal more animated than she usually did.
But it was all worth it.
She let out a long breath, unaware that she was being dramatic. “It’s going,” she answered.
Quint picked up the yellow legal pad she’d been writing on, glancing at it to get a clue. Page after page was filled with small, strange scratchings. The woman had handwriting like the tail of a cat dipped in ink. He could only make out about half, and not well at that.
He let the pad drop back on the desk. “Is that cautious lawyer talk?”
She laughed. It did sound like that, didn’t it? She hadn’t meant it to.
“You found me out. Actually, I think that Mr. Macabee’s lawyer is trying to pull a sleight of hand on your father.” She saw storm clouds gathering in his eyes. He was easygoing, except when it came to people he loved, she thought. She liked that. “These kinds of things aren’t unheard of.” As sheriff, he had to be aware of that. “Hustlers come in all sizes and shapes and wander through all walks of life.” Passing a hand over her eyes, she wished a headache away. It lingered anyway. “Any reason he picked now rather than some other time?”
Yeah, there was a reason, Quint thought. A good one. Macabee was slime. “The Shady Lady is doing really well, thanks to Kent’s management and the town’s growth spurt. We’re even getting an amusement park, thanks in part to Denise, Will’s fiancée,” he interjected to keep her from getting confused. “She sold the town her carnival rides. Because of its location, the ranch has become prime real estate.”
He knew that because, after his father’s attack, he’d looked into selling the property to pay the bills. It would have not only paid off the debts, but set his parents up nicely. But no one in the family wanted to see the ranch go, so the five of them had pooled what money they could to pay off the bills. Kent had taken over running it to give his father time to properly recover. After his father was well, by mutual agreement, Kent just continued doing what he was doing.
“Well, it’s real estate that’s going to stay in your family,” she promised. “I’m meeting with Macabee’s lawyer tomorrow to set things straight.” She was looking forward to it. If the man wanted a fight, so much the better. She could use a good fight to sink her teeth into and help clear the cobwebs from her mind.
He wanted it straight. “Is there a chance that we could still lose the ranch?”
She drew together the piles of papers she’d been examining and neatened them beneath her pad. “Only if Macabee and his lawyer try to take it from your parents at gunpoint.”
That was reassuring. Hooking his thumbs in his belt, his palm rested against his holster. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
Her eyes shifted to the hilt of his handgun. “Ever used that thing?”
He knew what she was asking. “Against a man, no, but I’ve wounded many a tin can.”
She laughed, then winced as the sound rippled through her. She was stiffer than she thought.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She waved away the note of concern she heard in his voice, warmed by it even as she felt foolish for reacting like that. “It’s just sitting in a chair all these hours has made me a little stiff. I’m not up to any sudden movements,” she explained.
Quint pretended to assess her. “You don’t look stiff. As a matter of fact, you look rather supple. Warm and supple.”
She wasn’t supposed to be taken in by charm. So why was she? “I didn’t think that small-town sheriffs were so smooth.”
He circled behind her. “You have a lot to learn about small towns.”
“Apparently.” Ginny assumed he was leaving her to her work. When she felt his hands on her shoulders, she jerked slightly before recovering, biting off a few choice words in the interim.
Quint laughed. The lady could probably turn the air blue if she wanted to, he guessed, amused by the thought. “Shh, just sit still and I’ll see what I can do about working those kinks out of your back.”
Every touch, every movement, had repercussions that echoed through her. He might be working the kinks out, but he was definitely working something else in. This was definitely not helping her think. Ginny tried to shift away.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Quint continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Why?”
She tried to shift again, but his hands gently restrained her, keeping her where she was. Between heaven and hell. Tingling sensations were beginning to form and take hold, dissolving her where she sat. “Because I can’t think when you do that.”
“Then it’s a very good idea.” He turned the chair around until she faced him. Taking her hand, he eased her up to her feet. “I think you’ve been thinking too much today.”
Her throat felt dry. And her palms felt damp. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“Absolutely.”
She’d missed dinner, Quint noticed. His mother had brought in a tray, but it stood beside the papers, barely touched. He supposed she was consumed by her work. That was both good and bad. Nice to be that dedicated, but not to the exclusion of everything else. Because the effort was to help his parents, he didn’t comment on it. But he wanted to make sure the lady didn’t slip back to her old ways. She had to see that work and life could coexist.
“Why don’t you come out and see if the moon’s still in the same place it was yesterday.”
Amusement played along the corners of her mouth. “You mean it travels?”
He laced his fingers through hers, coaxing her out of the stuffy den. “Out here, you never know.”
Ginny struggled not to sigh as their palms touched.
9
Quint eased the door closed behind him before turning toward Ginny. He wanted to be absolutely sure she wasn’t hiding anything from him. “So my parents really have nothing to worry about?”
“No.”
And being able to say that gave Ginny a great deal more pleasure than she’d experienced of late winning in court. This felt so much more real, so much more satisfying than undertaking battles for behemoth corporations that had no face, no heart. This mattered. This, she realized with a pang, was what she was meant to do. But not right now. Right now, she had another life waiting for her.
Maybe someday.
“I think Macabee is hoping to capitalize on the fact that your father lost the papers that were signed in the fire. From what I gather, it wasn’t a secret.” Digging through records and possible tie-ins at the local newspaper office, she’d found that the fire had been the talk of the town the week it happened. “I found everything I needed at the records office.”
There was no need to mention that the search, since it was paper that she’d been looking for and not data recorded on the computer, had taken her the better part of a day. That was all behind her, all just part of the battle. A battle that she already considered won.
“There’s still some minor confusion to be cleared up—” such as how Macabee’s lawyer thought he could ethically get away with this, she thought “—but when you unwrap all the legal mumbo jumbo, the title to the Shady Lady was legally transferred from Macabee to your father, and we have proof.” She grinned, feeling like the heroic Mountie, saving the beleaguered heroine from the evil clutches of the greedy villain in an old-fash
ioned melodrama. “The old homestead is safe.”
Quint wondered if she knew that her eyes were sparkling as she spoke. This had mattered to her almost as much as it had to them. He found that very interesting. And heartening.
He slipped his arm around her. “They’ll be very happy to hear that. We all are.” His eyes held hers and said things to her he couldn’t put into words. Yet. “I can’t thank you enough.”
She was having trouble concentrating again. It happened every time he was so close to her. Close enough to tempt, close enough to kiss. She found her tongue and focused on making words come out of her mouth instead of a sigh.
“It’s not anything any good lawyer wouldn’t have been able to do, given time.”
Always alert, he widened the opening she had unknowingly created for him.
“That’s just it, Serendipity doesn’t have a good lawyer, or any lawyer for that matter. If anyone needs a lawyer here, they have to go clear to the next town to get one. Or farther if they want a good one,” he added, thinking of the attorney Macabee had retained. Even the one his parents occasionally used was only good for the most minor of undertakings.
In Southern California, for the most part, one town or city fed directly into another, Ginny realized. Here, going to the next town meant a considerable trip. She could see the difficulty.
She shrugged and was immediately aware that her shoulders were brushing against his arm. More warmth spread. “I know people who would say a lawyer-free town’s a good thing.”
He smiled down into her face. “That’s because they never met you.”
Her stomach tightened. “Is that a compliment, or are you just flushed from knowing that the Shady Lady stays in the family?”
“Both, but you don’t need anything extra in your arsenal for a man to take notice of you or give you a compliment. You stir a man’s blood just by standing there.”
The feeling, she wanted to say, was more than mutual. But then that would be giving him insight into what was going on in her head and she didn’t want that. That would give him an advantage over her. She’d learned long ago to play her hand close to her chest and trust no one.
She wanted to trust him. Wanted to be with him. Wanted.
But even as the desire rose, Ginny knew it couldn’t have an outlet. She couldn’t start something that would have to be finished in a very short space of time. As soon as Jenny paid her “debt” to Serendipity society, they’d be on their way—no looking back. She had a life waiting for her back in California. A high-speed life where she had to struggle to catch her breath, but it was a life she’d forged for herself. A life that until recently she thought she desperately wanted.
Now she wasn’t all that sure.
Ginny didn’t know what she wanted. No, that wasn’t strictly true. She didn’t know what she could allow herself to want.
When he drew her into his arms, she felt wariness forming within her again. Not because she didn’t trust him or what he would do—that was gone— but because she didn’t trust what she was feeling when he touched her, didn’t trust herself to act rationally.
His mouth was a fraction away from hers when she wedged her hands up against his chest. “Is Jenny with your mother?”
Surprised, Quint stopped. He wasn’t about to force himself on her. His hands loosened about her waist. “No, Jenny’s still in Serendipity.”
It was after six. The general store, she knew, closed at five. “Working?” Had Taylor kept her after hours to do inventory?
“No, as a matter of fact, Taylor let her off early today so that Carly could take her to Sadie’s.” She was skittish. He could see it in her eyes. Raised around horses all his life, he knew animal fear when he saw it. What he didn’t understand was why. He hadn’t really done anything that he hadn’t before. He hadn’t even kissed her.
Ginny tried to remember if he’d mentioned the person before and couldn’t. “And that would be—?”
Built over twenty years ago, the small establishment was still considered new. “The local place where all the kids her age hang out. It’s where my brothers, Morgan and I hung out when we were younger.” He supposed, by her standards, it was antiquated, but there was something to be said for that. Knowing their kids were there set parents’ minds at ease.
Jenny wouldn’t have gone there on her own. Ginny scrutinized Quint’s face, trying hard not to notice that looking at him sent quivers of anticipation through her. “Is that part of your rehabilitation program for Jenny?”
He laughed. “Smart lady.”
His words struck her as ironic. “If I was so smart, there’d be no need to ‘rehabilitate’ Jenny. She would have turned out right to begin with.” She still wasn’t sure where she’d taken the wrong path or when, but she obviously had because Jenny was so troubled.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” His voice was soft, comforting. Something within her longed to lose herself in him, even though she knew it was wrong. “No one can do everything, and you had your hands full just providing for her.”
That was no excuse and she didn’t accept it. “Your mother raised five of you.”
Her view of the situation was far too narrow, Quint thought. Maybe that was the problem. She concentrated on one thing to the exclusion of all else. In his estimation, she needed to do less, and that way, accomplish more all around.
“My mother,” he pointed out, “had my father, and we all did our part at different times, pitching in. From what you’ve told me, I’m gathering that you had only you to fall back on.”
That was true enough. As far back as she could remember, there’d never been anyone else to turn to. No one to talk to or trust. Or surrender the burden to, even for a little while. Her mother had been far too busy partying to be a mother. There’d been only her. And she had messed up royally. “Emphasis on the word fall.”
He wasn’t about to stand by and let her do this to herself. For once, someone had to take her side, even if she didn’t.
“Now, this is my town,” he said gently, “and I told you not to be hard on yourself. Haven’t you learned that you should listen to the sheriff?”
Ginny reacted to the kindness she heard, to the teasing. It felt good. “Or what—you’ll throw me into jail again?”
He nodded, pulling his lips into a stern line. “This time there’ll be hard time involved.”
From nowhere, excitement rippled through her. She realized it had to do with the look in his eyes. He looked at her as if she were a woman, a desirable woman. He made her want to live up to the image.
“You almost make me. want to break the law.”
When he gathered her into his arms this time, it felt as natural as if it had been happening since the beginning of time. “You really are something else, Ginny Marlow.” And then the laughter on his lips softened as he looked at her, debating. He risked the question. “Would you consider staying here? After Jenny settles her debt, I mean.”
Was he asking her to stay? Or was it just an interested question?
In either case, she couldn’t. The triumph she felt in helping the Marlows with their legal problem notwithstanding, it wasn’t possible for her to give up her life in California. And her future.
But something within her yearned anyway.
“Not right away, but maybe someday. This seems a peaceful enough town to come back to.” And then she laughed, surprised to hear herself say that. “I never thought I’d even ever consider living in a place that doesn’t have at least a ten-story building in its midst.”
Quint arched one light brown brow. “Height important to you?”
He probably thought she was insane. “Only insomuch as it reflects civilization.”
She needed to see things in the right light and not let her past color it. “That’s all around you, Ginny. It all depends on the type of civilization you’re looking for.”
He didn’t understand, Ginny thought. Didn’t know what it had taken for her to get where she was. Didn’t know how
afraid she was of sliding back.
“I’m looking for somewhere where the odds are on my side, where I can make a good living for myself and my sister.” She let him a little further into her life. “Where I can have everything I didn’t have when I was growing up.”
She was confusing possessions with security. He could see that happening. “Seems to me that a great deal of that would be taken care of if you just had love to start with.”
Love was something she’d never had, even though she’d ached for it as a child. But she’d made her peace with that, the way an adult did with the height they’d reached. It was just the way things were, no use wishing for anything else, anything more. She wouldn’t know what to do with love now if it came her way. She saw it as a weakness, not an asset. Love made you put your guard down. And then all hell could break loose.
“Maybe,” she allowed, “but I’ve learned never to trust anything or anyone but myself.”
He felt for her. A great deal. “Pretty lonely that way.”
She shrugged carelessly, moving away. “But safe.”
Quint didn’t see it that way. “Safe isn’t always good. Safe can be very stifling.”
“That’s a strange sentiment for a sheriff to have. Why did you become a sheriff, anyway? I have a feeling you could have been anything you wanted to be.”
“I am what I wanted to be. In Serendipity, I’m the police chief, I’m the head detective and a little more than half the police force.” He smiled. “Growing up, I was always the peacemaker every time my brothers and sister got into it. Came natural. I like restoring the peace. Makes me feel as if I’m accomplishing something.” He could see that she was restless. Maybe she’d feel better with the others.
He nodded toward the sky. “Now that we’ve established that the moon is in place, among a few other things, why don’t we go back inside?”
Ginny felt his hand at the small of her back. The less time she spent alone with Quint, the better. She wasn’t all that confident that she could keep herself in check.
“All right.”
The Law and Ginny Marlow Page 11