Rescuing the Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  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.

  Timing was everything. Why couldn’t she have met Quinn three years ago, before the assault outside the bar? Four years ago, before he’d met Jenny and when Summer was newly divorced from Hal?

  She immediately dismissed the notion. If they’d met then, Quinn wouldn’t have had his daughter and, to be honest, Summer wouldn’t have been ready for a relationship so soon after the end of her marriage.

  What about the future? In a year, maybe two, she and Quinn might be in entirely different places. Perhaps then they’d be able and ready to act on their mutual attraction.

  Crazy thoughts. She had to put an end to them.

  Navigating traffic, she tried to get to the learning center as quickly as possible while not breaking any speeding laws. The center charged an outrageous fee for every minute a parent arrived late to pick up his or her child. That wasn’t, however, the real reason she hurried. Teddy became very agitated when she was late. Summer wasn’t in the frame of mind to cope with one of his outbursts, especially after the confrontation with Hal.

  She reached the center with five minutes to spare. Opening the door to the activity room where the after-school program took place, she was met by an empty room and a surprised staff member.

  “Mrs. Goodwyn.” The young woman appeared confused. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Hi, Heidi.” Strange thing to say. Summer glanced around. “Where’s Teddy? The restroom?”

  “He’s gone.”

  A spear of alarm sliced through her. “Gone! Where?”

  “His father picked him up. Thirty minutes ago.”

  Hal? No, impossible. Summer’s knees went weak. “You let him take Teddy?”

  “He’s on the list. And he showed me his driver’s license.”

  Hal never picked up Teddy. Why today?

  “Is there a problem?” the staff member asked in a worried voice.

  Summer didn’t answer. She was already out the door, cell phone in hand, speed dialing Hal’s number.

  Chapter Four

  Summer wasn’t there. She’d told Quinn she’d see him that evening at the ranch, but there was no sign of her or Teddy.

  He’d used Chubbs’s vision loss, and the need to monitor the old gelding to make sure he remained reliable, as an excuse to hang around the arena. That and helping Cara saddle the horses—he’d promised Josh he wouldn’t let her lift anything heavy.

  Now, twenty minutes into the lesson, five children walked their horses in a placid circle under the direction of the head instructor. The children laughed, smiled and shouted excitedly while their parents beamed at each other and called out encouragements.

  Quinn glanced over his shoulder at the parking area, his agitation increasing. Where was Summer? Maybe he should give her a call on the chance something had happened. Her ex-husband, no prize in Quinn’s opinion, had left the law office angry and, also in Quinn’s opinion, gunning for bear. He’d watched the man exit the building, jog across the parking lot toward his vehicle and then burn rubber as he pulled onto the street. Quinn was certain the man had a specific destination in mind and hoped it wasn’t Summer’s place.

  His fingers itched to remove his phone from his pocket and dial her number. He resisted, forcing himself to stand at the arena railing, observing Chubbs. The old gelding diligently followed Pancake while carefully transporting his young rider, a girl about Teddy’s age. Only once did he swing his head around to give George Clooney behind him a warning stare.

  Quinn shifted, scratched his jaw and readjusted his hat. Would Cara know where Summer was? They were best friends. How obvious would he be if he asked?

  “There you are.”

  He turned to find Cara heading his way. “What’s going on?”

  “You expecting company? You look anxious.”

  “Just watching the class.”

  She moved closer and studied the riders. Each one was assisted by a staff member who walked along beside them.

  “How’s Chubbs doing?”

  “Great,” he said. “As long as no other horse gets closer than five feet behind him.”

  They chatted for a few minutes and then Quinn spotted Summer’s familiar red car from the corner of his eye.

  “Finally, she made it.” Cara spoke more to herself than Quinn.

  He couldn’t tell from her tone if she’d known Summer was going to be late or not. Seeing the driver’s side door open, spotting the tight expression on Summer’s face even from this distance, he had to stop himself from rushing over.

  No reason he couldn’t meander. “I’ll get Stargazer ready for Teddy.”

  Quinn felt the heat from Cara’s gaze on him as he headed to Summer’s car and not the stalls where Stargazer waited. He didn’t care. He had to find out if she was okay. When he got there, she was standing at the open rear door, waiting for Teddy to climb out of his booster seat.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you want to see Stargazer? She loves it when you brush and pet her.”

  The boy rocked back
and forth in his seat and hummed.

  “How’s it going?” Quinn asked.

  “Hey.” She exhaled wearily. “Okay.”

  “Can I help?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure there’s anything you could do.”

  “I’ll bring Stargazer around. That might encourage him.”

  “Would you?” Her smile radiated joy and appreciation. “Thank you so much.”

  Quinn felt his heart lift, as if the heavy weight he’d been carrying these past three years had suddenly shrunk by half.

  “Be right back.”

  He hurried to the stalls and fetched Stargazer. With her small size and sweet nature, the mare was a perfect match for Teddy. Slipping on her halter, Quinn led her to the tack room where he grabbed a brush and hoof pick, then returned with Stargazer to Summer’s car. Teddy hadn’t moved from his seat.

  “Sweetheart, look who’s here.”

  Summer stepped away, allowing Quinn to bring Stargazer right up to the open door. The curious mare extended her head just inside the car, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air.

  Teddy stopped rocking and humming. His left hand jerked reflexively, and he made a garbled sound.

  “That’s right,” Summer said happily. “It’s Stargazer.”

  Quinn hadn’t gotten the horse’s name from the sound Teddy made. No matter. Summer was happy and, it seemed, Teddy was, as well. Angling his head, he reached his arm out to pet Stargazer’s nose.

  “Haws, haws.”

  “Yes.” Summer breathed a sigh of relief. “Horse.”

  Teddy threw off his unbuckled seat belt and climbed out of the booster seat. Scrambling from the car with an agility that impressed Quinn, he hugged Stargazer’s neck and rubbed his cheek along her soft hide.

  “How about that?” Quinn chuckled. “The horse is a miracle worker.”

  “She is.” Summer stared longingly at her son, who murmured unintelligible words into Stargazer’s neck.

  Was she wishing she could hold her son as he held the mare or simply glad that whatever terrible thing had been tormenting him had finally let go, if only temporarily?