Her Christmas Hero

by Linda Warren

  “I owe a lot to Philip Sr. That’s not an excuse. It’s just how I got caught in this situation.”

  “Were you and Phil good friends?” She drew up her knees and watched his face. His wide brow was slightly fur rowed as he thought before he spoke, which she imagined he also did in court.

  “Just law students together. That’s how I met his dad.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure what Philip has to do with my son. He never showed any interest in him.”

  Quinn shrugged and she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything else. Looking around the apartment, he asked, “Did you decorate the condo?”

  “No. It was decorated when I moved in.” Unable to stop herself, she ran her hands up her arms. “I hate this place. There are so many bad memories here.”

  “There had to have been some good ones.”

  “Phil’s cruelty obliterated them all.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Then make him give me back my son.” She held his blue eyes, mentally willing him to agree.

  A loud wail erupted and Britt jumped to her feet. Her baby was awake.

  The rest of the afternoon went quickly, too quickly. She didn’t know how she was going to leave Dillon. She held and kissed him, and he picked up on her distress and became fussy.

  “This is hard,” she said to Quinn.

  A look crossed his face, an expression she hadn’t seen before. This was hard for him, too. That had never crossed her mind and it threw her for a second.

  “It’s ten to five,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You better go before Phil arrives.”

  A tear rolled from her eye as she pulled a package of Gold fish crackers from her purse. Handing them to Quinn, she said, “Give him some of these and it will keep him occupied for a while.” She held Dillon tight and kissed him. “Mommy loves you, Dilly bear.”

  Quinn sat on the floor and fed Dillon crackers. “I’ll take very good care of him,” he promised.

  Holding back tears, she quietly picked up her things and slipped out, running to her car.

  The moment Dillon realized his mother wasn’t in the room he crawled to the kitchen looking for her. Quinn followed. Dillon’s bottom lip dropped and he started to cry.

  Picking up the boy, Quinn tried to comfort him. “It’s ok ay, buddy. You’ll see her again real soon.” Dillon cried that much louder.

  Through the wails, Quinn heard the front door open. He carried the baby into the living room. A middle-aged woman with graying brown hair was removing her coat. When she saw them she immediately came and took Dillon. He went to her, but his dark, watery eyes kept searching the room.

  “I’m Debi Carr, the nanny. I’ll take care of this little one.”

  Quinn reached for his jacket. “Isn’t Phil coming home?”

  “He said he’d be out late tonight, but don’t worry, Dillon will be fine. I have a room next to his.”

  Dillon seemed comfortable with the nanny, so Quinn gathered his laptop and briefcase, his anger once again getting the best of him. The whole point of the hearing was so Dillon would be with one of his parents, but that was just a blind for what was really going on. To take Dillon from the person who loved him. To make Britt pay. To hurt her.

  Walking out the door, Quinn knew every risk he took was worth it. If it was the last thing he did as a lawyer, Britt would get her son back.

  BRITT CRIED HERSELF TO sleep, but was up early to start job hunting. Through the night she’d made a decision. She’d been dealt a crippling blow and it had sidetracked her, but not anymore. She was fighting back. Phil and Quentin Ross were not going to get the best of her. After showering and dressing, she called Mona.

  When Mona answered, Britt got right to the point. “I’m not happy with what happened yesterday. Do something to get this changed. I should be able to see my son in my own home—his home.”

  “I completely agree with you and I’m already on it. I plan to call the judge as soon as I’m in the office.”

  “Thank you, Mona. I just don’t feel comfortable with Phil able to pop in anytime he pleases. Make sure the judge understands that.”

  “I’ll make that very clear. I’ll call when I hear something.”

  Britt spoke with her mother and grandmother, and then hit the streets looking for a job. Carin wanted to loan her money until Britt was back on her feet. Britt refused. She had to make it on her own.

  Every place she went, from department stores to dress shops to secretarial agencies, she was told the same thing—they weren’t hiring. Finally she tried the employment office. She’d take anything. She had to have an income to keep Dillon and to pay the rent.

  MIDMORNING, QUINN GOT a call from Judge Norcutt’s office. She wanted to see him at one. He had a full schedule, but it was about the Rutherford case, so he made time. Getting in touch with Phil was impossible. The man didn’t answer his phone or return Quinn’s calls.

  Quinn was running late and arrived a little after one. Mona was already there. They didn’t have time to talk before they were shown into the judge’s chamber.

  Evidently Judge Norcutt didn’t have much time, either. She was at her desk going through some papers. She waved a hand. “Please have a seat. As I don’t have a lot of time, I’ll get right to it.”

  She glanced at Quinn. “I understand there was an incident at the Rutherford house yesterday.”

  He stood. “Yes, Your honor.”

  “Can you guarantee it won’t happen again?”

  Quinn didn’t have to weigh his answer. He had to be honest. “No. I can’t.”

  “Due to Mr. Rutherford’s disregard of the law—” she scribbled her signature on a document “—I’m changing the order. Ms. Davis will be allowed to visit with her son in her home. Mr. Ross, your office will continue to oversee the visits. The nanny will deliver the boy and pick him up at the designated times.” The judge looked at him again. “Mr. Rutherford is to follow the order, Mr. Ross, and I trust you will see that he does.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Out in the hall, he said to Mona, “I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks, and thanks for not throwing a wrench into the works. But I have to tell you this whole case stinks to high heaven.” She turned and frowned at him. “And what the hell are you doing in family court, anyway, Ross?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “It really ticks me off that the Rutherfords are using a high profile lawyer with a reputation for winning. That stinks, too.”

  “I’m glad you recognized that.” He suppressed a grin.

  She gave him a skeptical look before walking off down the hall, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

  Yes. He was very glad she’d recognized that. And he was glad Britt had a lawyer who was fighting for her. She need ed one. But Britt had her own strength. She wasn’t falling apart, just as she hadn’t in the storm. From the start Quinn knew Britt was strong, and she’d need all that strength in the days ahead.

  But in the words of Levi, Quinn had her back.

  BY THE END OF THE DAY Britt realized that finding a job was going to be almost impossible. But she wasn’t giving up. The next morning she hit more businesses, looking for work. She stopped at noon, had lunch and waited for Dill on.

  She was ecstatic that Mona had gotten the ruling overturned. Dillon would now be home for a while. And he seemed to recognize that, smiling and crawling everywhere.

  When a lady named Gail showed up, Britt was surprised at her reaction. She’d been expecting Quinn and was disappointed. How big a fool could she be? She had a knack for falling for the wrong men. Quentin Ross wasn’t the man for her. He wasn’t her hero.

  But, oh, her heart wanted him to be.

  Quinn wasn’t there on Thursday, either.

  Britt knew it was for the best, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him or looking for him on Sunday. Gail arrived as usual.

  It irked Britt that someone had to watch her while Dillon was with her. But Gail was very respectful of Britt’s t
ime with Dillon. She stayed out of the way, reading the paper, doing crossword puzzles or working on her laptop.

  Britt had invited her mother and grandmother for lunch, be cause they wanted to see Dillon so desperately. Carin and Onnie cooked in her kitchen, and Dillon was happy, chattering and playing. It came to an end too soon. Dillon gave hugs and kisses as the two women left. Britt held on to him, bracing herself for when, once again, she’d have to let him go.

  She was playing patty-cake with Dillon when her doorbell rang. It was too early for the nanny. Could it be Phil? A chill crawled across her skin.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Holding Dillon, she glanced through the peephole and smiled.

  Quinn.

  Her heart fluttered with excitement. Fool rang through her head with vivid clarity, but she ignored that annoying little voice for now.

  She opened the door. “Quinn, what are you doing here?”

  In jeans and a leather jacket, he looked rugged, handsome and bad. Bad for her.

  “I came so Gail could leave early.” He walked inside. “I meant to get here earlier but I got sidetracked at my sister’s.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Ross.” Gail gathered her things and was gone.

  Quinn followed Britt into the living room. She sat on the carpet with Dillon and Quinn took a seat on the sofa.

  “It’s really annoying to have someone here to watch me,” she told him.

  “Sorry, it’s the judge’s ruling,” he replied, removing his jack et. “Other than that how’s it going?”

  “Okay. Mom and Onnie came today and Dillon was so glad to see them.” Dillon crawled to his toys on the floor and picked up a small NERF ball and threw it to her. It landed at her feet. She threw it back to him.

  “How are you?” Quinn’s eyes held hers and she found it hard to look away. How did he do that—trigger all her feminine emotions with just a glance?

  “I’m better. I’m not so angry.”

  “Does that mean you’re not so angry at me anymore?”

  Instead of answering, she replied, “Mona said you didn’t throw up any roadblocks at the meeting with the judge. I’m grateful for that—grateful to have Dillon home.”

  “That’s where he should be.”

  She stared at him. “You’re an enigma, Quentin Ross. I never know when you’re serious.”

  Dillon threw the ball again and it landed on the coffee table in front of Quinn. He picked it up and held it out to the toddler. “You want it? Come get it.”

  Dillon glanced at Britt and then at Quinn. Clearly, he was undecided whether to trust this strange man. Yes, you can soared through Britt’s mind like words from a well-loved hymn. After all that had happened, she still trusted Quinn.

  And she trusted him with Dillon.

  She was either the biggest fool who had ever lived or she was a romantic to the core who believed in love. As she let the thought simmer in her head she had to admit a hard truth. She had feelings for Quinn.

  But they could never go anywhere.

  Dillon shot across the floor and reached with one hand to get the ball. Sitting back on his butt, he chewed on it, his eyes on Quinn. Then he crawled over and handed Quinn the ball. In a second he took it back. They did this over and over, and Britt was amazed at Quinn’s patience. Finally, Quinn threw it across the room. Dillon squealed and crawled after it, retrieving the ball and carrying it back to Quinn. It was plain to see that Quinn had a rapport with kids.

  The doorbell interrupted them.

  Britt rose to her feet. “Oh, my. I forgot the time. It has to be the nanny.”

  “I’ll get the door,” Quinn offered, “while you get Dillon ready.”

  Britt changed Dillon’s diaper and bundled him in his coat. “Debi’s here,” she said to him, trying to prepare him for what was going to happen. “You like Debi.” In the living room she kissed him. “Mommy will see you on Tues day.”

  “I’ll take very good care of him,” Debi said as she took him. Dillon’s bottom lip trembled and he whined.

  Britt kissed him again. “Mommy loves you, Dilly bear.”

  Debi quickly left and Britt wrapped her arms around her waist. This didn’t get any easier. She felt as if her heart were being ripped out each time. She brushed away an errant tear.

  “Are you okay?”

  She swung toward the voice, having forgotten that Quinn was still in the room. “You should go, too,” she said instead of answering, and the tension was back. The tension that re minded her Quinn was Phil’s lawyer.

  Quinn noted the sadness on her face and his gut twisted. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “About what?” She wiped away another tear.

  “Your marriage to Phil.”

  “Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “So you can use it against me in court?”

  “No. I’d just like to hear your side of the story.”

  “Why?” she asked again.

  “Just trust me.” For a moment he thought she was going to tell him to go to hell, but the leeriness left her eyes and she walked into the living room and sat down.

  Great. He wanted her to trust him again.

  He resumed his seat on the sofa and looked around the apartment. This was Britt, from the comfy sofa and chair to the serene landscapes on the wall to the toys strewn around the room. It was comfortable. It was home.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “How long were you married to Phil?”

  She curled up in the chair. “Barely six months.”

  “What happened?”

  She tucked her dark hair behind her ears, her eyes troubled. “We argued a lot about my job. After we were married, he assumed I would quit. But I didn’t. I couldn’t see my self sitting in that big condo all day waiting for him to come home. The arguments escalated. We had a really bad one before I was scheduled to leave for four days. On the way to the airport my supervisor called. The flight had been canceled. At that moment I decided I couldn’t keep up the constant arguing. I told my supervisor about my situation and quit my job. I felt better after I made that decision. I had to make my marriage work. I stopped for groceries, planning a special dinner for Phil.”

  She had a pained look on her face, as if she was reliving that time. “I’d just found out I was pregnant, and I was going to tell Phil that morning, but we’d argued instead. So I planned this big happy evening.”

  She stopped talking.

  “What happened?” he coaxed.

  “When I walked into the condo, I could hear music. Puzzled, I didn’t even put the groceries down. I went straight up to the bedroom.” She took a long breath. “Phil was there with a blonde in our bed. They were naked and wrapped around each other. Drug paraphernalia was on the nightstand. I was so shocked I dropped the groceries on the hardwood floor. The sound alerted them and Phil saw me. I ran, but he caught me at the door and said it was nothing, just something he did for stress.”

  The anguish in her voice weakened Quinn’s defenses and he wanted to go to her, hold her and tell her all men weren’t like that. He had to keep his distance, though. But he knew without a doubt the groceries on the floor were the ones in the photo—the picture Phil used to say Britt had trashed the condo.

  “What happened next?”

  “I left and filed for divorce the next day.”

  “Did you ever go back?”

  “I went back to get my things when I knew Phil wasn’t there, but he came home with the blonde as I was leaving. He wanted to talk and I said no way. He became angry and asked for my key, saying I couldn’t take anything out of the apartment without his permission. I threw my clothes at him and left, and I haven’t been back until last Sunday.”

  The clothes on the floor. The supposed second trashing. Phil was making up evidence, and if he thought Quinn would go into a courtroom with that kind of bogus proof he was highly mistaken. And so was Philip Sr.

  Quinn cleared his throat. “And Phil let the div
orce go through?”

  “Not without a lot of threats. Then he found out about the baby and he repeatedly said he would make me pay.” She sighed. “I guess he is.”

  “Do you have any feelings for Phil?” Somehow Quinn had to ask that question.

  Her eyes flew to his. “Hatred. Disgust. Do those count?”

  “I meant love.”

  She swung her feet to the floor. “I had my head in the clouds and I believed that he really loved me. How naive could I be?”

  “It’s called trusting.”

  Her dark eyes flared. “I’m good at trusting the wrong men.”

  “Oh, that stings.” Quinn held a hand to his chest.

  “It should.” A grin played on her lips and that light in her eyes was mesmerizing.

  He cleared his throat again. “I better go.” As he stood, he reached down and picked up the ball and handed it to her. His eyes holding hers, he added, “Trust me, Britt. Do you think you can do that?”

  She stood, her eyes never leaving his. “You’re Phil’s attorney.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re asking the impossible.”

  Unable to stop himself, he cupped her face and took her lips gently, tasting, cajoling. The scent of baby powder lingered on her skin and she tasted like the banana she’d fed Dillon. Quinn was drowning in the sweetness of her. Drawing circles on her cheeks with his thumbs, he traced her bottom lip with his tongue and she moaned, igniting a flame deep inside him. She opened her mouth and a new discovery, new emotions took over—powerful, explosive feelings that bound them closer than a flooding creek.

  She drew back, her lips red and her eyes bright. “That might be an ethical violation.”

  “Yeah.” He ran both hands through his hair. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  “You shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.”

  He reached for his jacket, just to do something with his hands besides touch her. “That’s the trouble with emotions. They don’t have a schedule. They just happen.”

  “Quinn…”

  He touched her lips with his finger, not wanting to hear what she had to say because he knew it wasn’t going to be in his favor. “Trust me, Britt. That’s all I’m asking.” Saying that, he made himself leave. Trust me.