Rescuing the Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

“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 aren
a 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 m
ind.

  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

  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.