by Karen Kirst
Quinn refused to be disappointed. He was in her company all day every day.
“Are you sure?” Megan persisted. “Can’t your chores wait an hour or two?”
“No, I’m sorry they can’t.” Noting her sister’s crestfallen expression, she tacked on, “Maybe another time.”
The couple stuck around for ten more minutes before taking their leave. The rest of the day passed in a blur and, before he knew it, Shane was back for another search. Quinn left Nicole inside to lock up.
Fifteen minutes into their search, she descended the stairs and walked over to where he was crouched in the grass. She dangled her basket in front of his nose.
“Would you like to examine the contents? I have the ledger listing my purchases in my reticule.”
The sheriff gave her a brief, considering glance before returning his attention to the grassy expanse beneath his boots.
“Not this time.”
Sighing, she inclined her head in that regal way of hers. “Good evening, then.”
Watching her stride away, Quinn gave in to the needling sense that she was hiding something. He stood up and brushed off his pants. “I forgot I have some urgent business to tend to. Would you mind if I left you to it?”
The sheriff nudged the brim of his Stetson farther up his forehead, sharp blue gaze assessing. No doubt he saw right through Quinn’s lame excuse.
“Go ahead. I’m almost finished here.”
Feeling foolish but intent on discovering Nicole’s secrets, he followed her at a distance, praying she wouldn’t turn around and spy him. What reason could he possibly give for following her?
When she ducked onto a barely discernible path leading into the heart of the forest, Quinn’s gut clenched with dread.
Where was she going? And what would he find at the end of this path?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
* * *
Nicole accepted the steaming bowl of fish stew, wondering how she could explain away—again—her lack of appetite once she returned home. Her mother was starting to become suspicious. Like Quinn. Suppressing a wave of irritation, she turned her attention to her friends.
“This is delicious, Lillian.”
Cheeks pink, and damp tendrils adhering to her forehead, Lillian perched on the other bed with her bowl. “Tell me about the picnic. Did they have fried chicken?”
Nicole felt perspiration forming on her nape. The interior was stuffy and uncomfortable. It would only get worse as the summer progressed.
“I didn’t see any, but I’m sure there was.”
Savoring another bite of the surprisingly fragrant stew, she hoped she’d remember to ask the twins to prepare some fried chicken so that she could sneak a few pieces to the girl. In the corner, a quieter-than-usual Patrick trained his attention on his meal.
She lowered her spoon. “I wish you could’ve been there. There were games and music.”
Patrick scowled into his bowl. At Lillian’s wistful sigh, Nicole’s appetite vanished. Forcing the rest of the contents down, she placed the dish in the bucket.
“I’ll take these to the stream and wash them for you.”
“No.” His head shot up, pale eyes narrowing. “What would someone think if they saw you? We’ve already had one close call.”
Lillian stuck her tongue out at him.
“What happened?” Dismayed, Nicole looked from one to the other.
Patrick dragged his glowering gaze from his sister to answer her. “Lillian was doing her nightly washing in the stream when a couple of elderly hunters came waltzing through the woods. The only thing that saved her is the fact there was a full moon and she didn’t have need of a lamp.”
“They didn’t see me, though, did they?” Lillian didn’t appear the least bothered.
But the near miss bothered Nicole. Gaze roaming the cramped shack, the pitiful state of their so-called home, she felt sick inside.
“We have to tell Shane,” she blurted. “This nightmare has to end.”
Lillian’s light brows crumpling, she lowered her bowl to her lap and stared glumly at her brother. While the younger girl would never complain aloud, Nicole sensed she would willingly go to the sheriff if only Patrick would agree.
As expected, he shook his head. “Can’t risk it.”
“This has nothing to do with me.” Nicole threw her hands up and paced the tiny space. “I have no problem helping you. Believe me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to help. But it’s killing me to see you living like this! You’re my only true friends in this town.” Tears welled up in her eyes, taking her by surprise. “It’s not fair.”
Lillian hurried over to wrap her in a hug. “I’m so thankful you found us. You were our answer to prayer.”
Astonished by the notion that God would willingly choose to use her to accomplish His ends, Nicole couldn’t form a coherent response. She awkwardly patted Lillian’s back and blinked away the tears.
Patrick watched them warily. “Crying isn’t going to change my mind, you know,” he said, setting his bowl aside and using the cane to gain his footing.
“I’m tired of this half life.” Lillian pulled out of the hug to face him. “We have to consider bringing someone else in besides Nicole.”
“We don’t know if we can trust this Sheriff Timmons.”
“Nicole trusts him. That’s good enough for me.” Lillian put up a hand to stall his response. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
He heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
Somewhat mollified, the blonde’s smile returned.
Nicole had her doubts he’d ever agree to her suggestion. “I have to go. Thank you for the meal.”
Outside, dusk had fallen. Patrick followed her through the door, his manner uncharacteristically self-conscious. Then he stunned her by giving her a one-armed hug.
Stepping back, he cleared his throat, the tips of his ears pink. “Thank you for all you’ve sacrificed for us. I’ll never forget it.”
“I would do it all again,” she admitted. “You and your sister mean the world to me.”
Throat working, he gave a half wave and, shuffling inside, gently shut the door.
Bemused, she swung the empty basket to and fro as she traveled the familiar path. The waning light struggled to penetrate the trees. Shadows thickened, spurring her to walk faster.
She hadn’t made it very far when, out of the bushes, flashed a tall male form. A firm hand clamped down on her arm. Nicole jumped and would’ve screamed had she not instantly recognized the distinctive hint of peppermint in the air.
“Quinn!” She was going to throttle him! “What do you think you’re doing?”
Quinn towered over her, his hair mussed and tie askew, nostrils flaring. “Who was that young man?”
Fear temporarily eclipsed her ire. He’d seen Patrick. What if he told?
Tempted to retreat, Nicole ordered her feet to stay put. Gone was laid-back Quinn. This was intimidating Quinn, the one she’d glimpsed in the mercantile when Kenneth and his friends had come in. Anger poured off him in tangible waves, every inch of his muscled body primed for battle. He was one enemy she did not want to make.
He invaded her space. “I saw you hug him. Does he live there? Please. Please tell me you haven’t been so foolish as to carry on a secret assignation with him.”
Just like that, her fear disintegrated. Spluttering, she shoved at his solid—and immovable—chest.
“You don’t know me at all if you can suggest such a despicable thing.” Chin angled upward, she glared at him nose to nose. “Get out of my way, Darling.”
Something akin to astonishment flared in the amber depths of his eyes, but he didn’t move a muscle.
“That was Darling with a capital D, you big oaf.”
>
When she sidestepped to go around him, he smoothly moved to block her exit. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Then I guess I’d better get comfortable,” she quipped.
“Do not push me, Nicole.” His eyes narrowed. “I will have your secrets one way or another.”
Chapter Fourteen
The hint of relief on Nicole’s features confirmed his decision to follow her. The weight of her secret—he shuddered to think what it might be—had to be a considerable burden. Quinn wondered just how long she’d been hiding this part of her life. And to what end? Forbidden romance?
He couldn’t deny the jealousy and inexplicable sense of loss he’d experienced upon seeing her and the stranger embracing. Shoving those useless emotions aside, he held tight to his concern for her well-being.
“Is he who you’ve been purchasing the supplies for?” He managed a semi-calm tone of voice.
“What I do during my off time is none of your business.”
“It’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it? Since before Emmett left.” Her sister’s words came back to him. “Have you been supporting him since the beginning? Was that why you took this job?”
She’d gone still, watchful. On alert for a way of escape from his presence and this conversation. In the muted light that reached them here in this remote spot, her violet eyes were deep pools of wariness, her shiny pink lips pressed together in a straight line, and he noted the odd trembling in her slender frame.
His irritation ebbing, he settled his hands on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing a reassuring pattern across the soft blue fabric of her sleeves.
“You can trust me, Nicole.”
She gulped. “I’m not so sure about that.”
That hurt. “I have never given you reason to doubt my intention to protect you.” Even from yourself.
Her shoulders slumped as the fight left her. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then I suppose a meeting is in order.”
Stepping aside, he followed in her wake. The run-down shack looked worse up close. Surely this was merely a meeting place and not a permanent residence.
She rapped out a series of knocks. A secret code between her and her love interest?
Quinn’s chest constricted as they waited. Finally, the door scraped open.
“Back so soon...” The young male voice trailed off as light gray eyes landed on Quinn. He recoiled. “Who’s he?”
“May we come inside?” Nicole’s manner was resigned.
Her companion lingered in the doorway, weight supported by a cane. He was younger than Quinn had first thought and sickly in appearance, mouth tight with pain and skin nearly translucent.
Reluctantly, the boy admitted them. Quinn worked to keep his features schooled as he entered the tiny space that, from the looks of things, was indeed a home. A pitiful one. Movement in the corner caught his eye. A fine-boned girl latched on to Nicole’s arm, eyes wide and hunted as she stared at him.
“Nicole?” she squeaked.
Similar in coloring and appearance to the lad, she was most likely his sister. Perhaps he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.
“Patrick. Lillian. This is my boss, Quinn Darling,” she announced darkly. “He followed me.”
Quinn inclined his head in greeting. “Which one of you would like to explain what’s going on here?”
Patrick sank heavily onto a chair in the corner, hands hanging on to the cane between his legs. Chin jutted at a stubborn angle, he said, “That depends on what you’re planning on doing with the information.”
“I can’t say until I know what it is you’re hiding. And you are hiding something, or else you wouldn’t be living here.” He flicked a hand about him. “My assistant wouldn’t be doing your shopping for you and making clandestine deliveries.”
“We haven’t done anything wrong!” Lillian burst out.
Nicole’s glare shooting daggers at Quinn, she addressed Patrick. “Just tell him the truth. He won’t let this matter rest until you do. He’s stubborn and hardheaded.”
He was stubborn? What about her?
“These past six months, Nicole has been instrumental in keeping my sister and I alive and safe.”
“Safe?” Quinn repeated. “From who?”
“The man who married our mother and later murdered her.”
Nicole clapped a hand over her mouth. “Patrick! Why didn’t you tell me?” Rushing over, she knelt before him, fingers gripping his knee. “How did it happen?”
Quinn’s gaze narrowed at her open concern for the lad. She very clearly cared for him. How deep did her feelings go?
Patrick ducked his head, hair sliding forward. “They were arguing. He pushed her. Hard. She struck her head.”
“She never woke up.” Lillian hung back, her legs pressed against the bed opposite, keeping her distance from Quinn.
Scooting out a chair he hoped would bear his weight, Quinn sat down and crossed his arms. “How about we start at the beginning?”
As he listened to the entire story, bits and pieces supplied by all three, his concern for the siblings’ welfare deepened and his admiration for his assistant blossomed. He couldn’t have imagined her capable of such a noble act. He’d pegged her wrong from the start.
“What are you going to do with this information?” Patrick’s knuckles were white on the cane.
“I need to give the matter some thought. One thing’s for sure—you cannot remain here. We’ll need to find you more appropriate lodgings.”
Trepidation tightened the lad’s mouth. “If people find out about us—”
“Please don’t worry.” Quinn stood, noting the darkness and lack of moonlight beyond the window. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Extending his hand to Nicole, he said, “Your family will be wondering where you are. I’ll escort you home.”
She hugged both siblings. He couldn’t detect anything other than sisterly affection on her part. Nor did Patrick look at Nicole like a man infatuated.
Borrowing a lamp, they entered the woodland path, crickets’ chirrups and frogs’ chorus echoing through the night. “I have to ask,” he said when the suspense became too much to bear. “About you and Patrick...are you...a couple?”
She stumbled over a root. When he steadied her, she shook off his hand. “Of course not. He’s younger than me! Besides, I think of him as a brother.”
Relief spiraled through him.
“Wait. Do you think he thinks—”
“No. I saw no evidence of that.”
“I take it you saw something in my behavior that made you jump to that conclusion?”
Quinn chose his words carefully. “Not exactly. You are, however, more open, more demonstrative with them than anyone else.”
“They’re my friends.”
He didn’t respond. Didn’t disrupt the silence that fell awkwardly between them during the remainder of the long walk to her cabin. His head was too full of discovery.
At the entrance to her lane, Nicole stopped. “You’re angry.”
He lowered the lamp to the ground. “You’re right. I am.”
“Well, that’s too bad—”
Quinn silenced her with a finger against her lips. “I’m angry because Patrick and Lillian have had to live like fugitives when they’ve done nothing wrong. I’m angry that you’ve had to shoulder this burden for so long. They’re the reason you’ve had to postpone the move to Knoxville, aren’t they?”
Curling her fingers about his, she pulled them away from her mouth and down to her side but didn’t release his hand. “I care about them.”
“I know you do.” He drank in her upturned features, gaze touching on each point
of beauty. Mysterious and alluring like a fine painting, she possessed a hitherto unknown depth he yearned to explore. “I have never admired a person more than I do you in this moment.”
Her lips parted. “Quinn.”
Ignoring the inner voice yelling at him to stop, to remember who he was and who she was and cease this nonsense at once, he cupped the side of her neck. The soft mass of her hair felt like rich mink fur against his skin.
Weaving a little to the side, she braced her hands against his biceps. “I—I feel dizzy.”
With his heart thundering in his chest, his fingers closed around her waist and he lowered his head until their breaths mingled and the tips of their noses bumped.
“That’s good,” he murmured, “because I do, too.”
Quinn drew her steadily closer, her voluminous skirts tangling with his pant legs and their boots colliding. When he had her as near as he dared, he fastened his attention on her dainty mouth, aware this wasn’t his best idea. Aware but too far gone to heed the voice of caution, which in his case wasn’t very loud or insistent.
Besides, he’d given her plenty of opportunity to slap him. Or shove him away. She hadn’t, which meant her common sense had gone the way of his.
He carefully brushed his lips against hers. No pressure. Easy. Gentle.
Nicole tightened her hold in response and, with a rush of sweet breath fanning over his mouth, went up on tiptoe to return his kiss.
The world around them ceased to exist. There was only Nicole anchoring him to the earth, her scent enveloping him, her softness a balm for his loneliness, her breath sustaining him.
He deepened the kiss, lips tangling with hers. She followed his lead with endearing eagerness. Devastating moved to the top of the list of her traits.
She’s innocent, Darling. The reminder had his mind reeling with the implications. She’s leaving. You’re staying.
Nothing could come of this. Nothing but hurt feelings.
* * *
This was the best moment in her life.
She had never felt so alive, so in tune with another human being.
Quinn saw her as no one else did—she’d hidden nothing about her personality from him—and still he was kissing her, clinging to her the same desperate way she clung to him. He was holding himself back for her sake. Quinn may be many things—cocky, nosy, too handsome for his own good—but for him, her well-being took precedence over everything else. He was her overzealous, self-appointed protector. Who could’ve guessed the one man who could take her from mildly annoyed to spitting mad in mere seconds could also lavish her with tenderness and make her feel wanted, even cherished, when no one else had?