“Be right back.” Quint tossed his napkin on his barely touched food.
Ruby nodded as she scanned the binder with songs for karaoke night.
“Hey, Manny.” Quint sat next to the garage owner.
“Walters.” He slugged down half the glass of tea the waitress set before him. “Oh, better.” He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ooo-wee that little lady did a number on her car.”
“Fixable?”
“Yep. Gotta order a couple of parts from Laramie. Gonna be a few days.”
The flutter in Quint’s gut sped up. “Hmm.”
“I talked to your aunt the other day.”
“Which one?” When he’d followed his Aunt Zan to Wyoming, it had been a temporary stop in his search for what he wanted to be when he grew up. But once he got situated in Paintbrush, the lifestyle and feel of the town suited him—and having Zan and his great-aunt Bonnie had been an added bonus. Growing up within ten miles of most of his family his whole life, he’d gotten used to having someone to turn to when need be.
“Miss Bonnie. Her and Gene were passing through town.”
Quint smiled and nodded. “Getting back from seeing Gene’s new grandbaby in Denver.”
“Yep. Proud as a peacock that one.” Manny leaned back as the waitress set his food in front of him. “Care to join me?” he asked Quint.
“No, sorry.” He tilted his head toward the table with Ruby still pouring over the song lists. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner.” Quint clapped the man on the shoulder. “You have a good one.”
Quint whistled on his way back to the table. His week was looking up.
Chapter Four
“How much?” Gillian tried not to visibly gulp at the amount.
Manny repeated the sum. “I’m sorry. We don’t get a lot of call for Volvo parts around here. Any kinda of pick-up or tractor…”
“I understand.” Gillian ran a hand through her hair. “I appreciate what you’re doing.” Her shoulders tensed. “That’ll wipe out most of my money.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“We take credit cards.” Manny’s smile was soft and genuine.
Gillian swiped her sweaty palms on her tan capris. “I don’t have any.”
“What?” His smile fell and he looked at her as if she’d just said she kicked puppies for a living, instead of not using plastic to pay for things.
She had her reasons. All valid, not one of which she’d share with him. Instead, she said, “My momma taught me, if I can’t pay for something outright, I don’t need it.” True enough, though she omitted the fact that someone could be tracked by their purchases. “Usually this isn’t a problem.”
“Smart one, that momma of yours. I tell you what.” Manny finished wiping his hands on the pink rag and tucked it in his back pocket. “It doesn’t take me all that long to actually get the work done once I have the part. And it’s coming from the same place I have a couple more orders that I need for another job. We could call it even for…” he named off a figure less than half the original amount quoted.
“I can’t ask you to—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” Again his smile returned. “But it may take an extra day to wait for them to ship all of my other parts together. How about it?”
An extra day of hotel cost versus the huge fee? If he was willing… “Deal. And thank you.” She shouldered her bag and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. She and Heidi had had breakfast at the diner, and she’d hoped to be able to call Mrs. Taylor and give her an updated arrival time.
“How long will she hold it?” Gillian spoke aloud to herself, then gnawed on her lower lip. Things could be worse. Thanks to their unexpected layover, no one knew where they were. She moved to step off the curb just as a shrill noise sounded to her left.
The door of the fire station was open and men scurried to board the small engine. If she wasn’t mistaken, Quint jumped up on the rear as the fire truck pulled out. Sirens clattered.
Once they passed, Gillian headed back the few blocks to the motel. The siren didn’t lessen as she expected but kept echoing through town. She picked up her step. She turned the corner, a block away from the motel. The engine sat at an odd angle across the intersection. Men scrambled, pulling hoses from the huge truck.
The back of the motel was smoldering.
“Heidi.”
Gillian took off at steady run. She pushed through the onlookers. “Heidi?” It eked out as a whisper. Before she could scream, someone called her name.
“Gillian. Over here.”
Stationed between a group of trucks, Missy stood with her arm wrapped around Heidi’s shoulder.
A shuttered breath wracked though Gillian. She wasn’t entirely sure how her knees held out for the short walk to her daughter’s side. “What happened?”
“Don’t know yet.” Missy snagged Gillian’s hand.
Her first instinct was to pull away. She wasn’t used to physical contact. But until her nerves steadied Missy’s kindness was a welcome warmth.
“Are you okay, hon?” Gillian tugged on her daughter’s ponytail.
“Yeah.” Heidi tightened her arms over her chest. “I was reading and smelled smoke.” She sniffed. Her face scrunched up.
“It’s almost out.” Ryder ran up to the group. “Maintenance shed out back behind the motel’s on fire. But they got the flames pretty much out. Granddad told me to get outta the way.”
Gillian looked at Missy. “Hank?”
Missy nodded. “Volunteer. There’re only two full time firemen so most of the rest of the men in town volunteer. Quint and Daddy were in town picking up their lunches for later. It was lucky they were here when the fire broke out.”
Gillian tried to picture Hank laden in fire gear. She shook her head. It didn’t come to mind. Quint however… His curly hair stuck in wisps to his sweaty scalp. Turnout coat slapped over his shoulder and red suspenders across rock-hard pecs. Muscular arms carrying the heavy axe.
As if her mind conjured him up, Quint Walters rounded the corner of the motel. Soot covered his face. His hair stuck out every which way. And he held a huge plastic Santa in his arms.
“Everything okay?” Missy released Gillian’s hand.
“Yep. We got it put out.” Quint poured a bottle of water over his head and shook off the excess, then looked at Gillian. “The fire didn’t spread. But you may want to air out your room for a while. It’ll probably smell pretty rank.”
She nodded. “Do you know what happened?”
“Not yet. It looks like someone may’ve been smoking out behind the building and tossed a cigarette.”
Gillian didn’t miss the sly glance toward her daughter. Were they not surrounded by half the town—that and the fact that she’d be revealing far too much to him—she’d have told him how off base he was. Something she hadn’t shared with anyone—ever.
Ruby pushed her way through the throng of folks milling about. “What happened?”
Something in the way she asked, and looked at Heidi then Gillian gave Gillian a start. Does new in town equate to instant culpability?
“Not sure yet. The chief is gonna have to sift through it all.” Quint raked his hand through his hair again.
Once the hubbub died down, the townspeople dispersed and headed to their respective jobs and daily activities. Gillian grabbed Heidi’s hand and made it halfway to their room when Hank caught up to them—he moved pretty quick for looking so raggedy after the fire. Ryder was fast on his heels and almost skidded into the older man when he stopped.
“Miss Harwood.”
“If I can call you Hank, you can call me Gillian.”
He gave her a quick smile. “Gillian, I was hoping I could get with you again for a quick touch up.” He lifted his shoulder. “I tweaked it a bit working on the fire.”
“Sure.”
Gillian glanced at her room. That might be a bit awkward.
“Um…”
“Spit it out, girl.
I ain’t got all day.”
Gillian couldn’t help but smile.
“Granddad.” Ryder licked his lips several times. “Quint said I could come out later to help you and Jacob set up the new stalls for the horses coming at the end of the week.”
“I could hitch a ride out with Ryder and work on your shoulder.” She smiled at the boy.
Hank rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Might could work.”
“If that’s the case, why doesn’t Heidi come on out too? I bet she’d like to see the horses.” Ryder shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock loose. “Could be cool.”
Gillian wanted to say no. She didn’t want Heidi to get too attached to Ryder. They’d be leaving in a couple of days and she’d seen the way her daughter had been looking at him—but if the dreamy glaze that came over the teen’s eyes was any indication, it may already be too late.
She needed to let Heidi be a teenager as much as possible. “If it’s not too much trouble…”
Gillian walked the length of the corral. She’d finished Hank’s shoulder and he’d hightailed it off the ranch saying he had some business in town. Zan had taken her daughters to work with her when her regular sitter had called in sick. Jacob headed out right after Hank to pick up the girls, leaving the ranch with few options. Gillian was hoping she could find Ryder and Heidi and get out of there before she ran into…
“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” Quint pulled his hat from his head and smacked at the dust on his jeans.
Super. She pasted on a wan smile. “Found me.”
“Manny called.”
She frowned.
“I was up at the house and he was looking for you, heard you’d come out here.”
“Small town?”
Quint chuckled. “Something like that. He got the part for your car. Said he’d have it finished by tonight.”
Her stomach fluttered. She couldn’t decide if it was joy or disappointment. “That’s wonderful.” She and her daughter could move on with their lives.
Gillian swiped at her forehead. Clouds had rolled in and lowered the temperature, but whenever Quint was around her temperature rose. Her gaze scanned the corral, barn area and all the way up to Jacob’s house a hundred yards away.
“Lose something?”
She headed toward the house where Ryder’d parked his truck. “I was just looking for the kids.”
“They left.”
Her step stuttered. “Pardon me?”
“Steven called.”
“Who?”
“The vet’s son, Steven. The lot of them went out to the pond out past town to swim before the storm hits. After the rain it’ll be days before they can get back out to it.”
“And Heidi went, too?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes. No. I guess not. I would like to have known she was leaving.” And leaving her stranded on the farm with a man who made her body ache in places she hadn’t realized she had.
“They said they’d be back for you in a couple of hours.” A smiled crooked the edges of his mouth. “I bet Hank could take you back to town, if you don’t want to wait.”
“He’s gone.” Gillian dropped the heavy shoulder bag at her feet and rolled her shoulders. She glanced around the corral.
Quint settled the straw hat back on his head. “I’ll be happy to drive you back to town.”
Thank goodness.
“As soon as I finish up the fence. About an hour’s worth of work. I’d let you borrow the truck, but I won’t be able to get back to town. Plus, I’ve seen the way you drive and it’s a little too daredevil for my taste.”
“There’s no other vehicles?”
“If you don’t count Emily’s bicycle—which still has training wheels by the way—nope. There are a couple of tractors, but despite what you might think, folks around here frown at driving them through town.”
Gillian eyed him for a long moment.
“Only about an hour. I promise.”
She could wait—not like she had a choice. But she’d have to watch the muscles in his sinewy forearms dance as he wrapped the wire around a staked post. She’d about come undone watching him for all of five minutes while she looked for the kids. An hour or so of it? No thank you.
Gillian pulled her bag back on her shoulder and headed across the hard-packed ground to sit on the front steps of the Bowman’s home.
“Hey, where ya going?” He caught up to her side.
“To sit. And wait for you to finish.”
The squeak of hinges echoed in the yard.
“Shit.” Quint ran back to the corral. “I left the damn gate undone.”
Gillian turned and in a flash a dark animal ran out of the small enclosure.
Quint snagged a rope and took off after the loose animal. Jacob would kill him if anything happened to the foal. The Bowmans were new to breeding horses, but had already made a decent name for the ranch.
He cursed with every step he took across the back pasture following the direction of the tracks. If he’d had a horse saddled and ready he’d have been able to catch the foal within moments. But on foot…
After half-an hour, he tracked the horse to the hillier part of the ranch. In a copse of trees, the skittish creature stood half-obscured by the brush. Quint crept quietly to the edge of the trees. He fashioned the end of the rope into a loop and swung it around over his head. If he missed, the horse would take off again and it might take hours to find him.
He took a steadying breath and released the rope. It landed around the horse’s neck. Quint nearly released the other end when a loud gasp sounded behind him. He glanced back at Gillian.
“That was wonderful. How’d you do that?” A huge smile crossed her face.
He closed the distance between himself and the horse. He patted the colt’s neck and spoke softly for a moment before he turned back to Gillian. “Why’d you follow me?”
“I wanted to make sure you caught it. And in case you needed me for anything.”
“Him, not it.” He held the rope aloft. “Will you hold this for a second?”
The smile slid from her face. He’d forgotten her wariness around the animals. What exactly had she expected to do if she was too afraid to hold onto a rope?
“Just for a second. Please?” Quint let go of the rope when she reluctantly took it from him. He snagged his work gloves from his back pocket and shoved his hands into them. “You should have waited back at the house.”
She released a heavy breath when he took the rope back. “I don’t mind.”
“Then I guess you don’t mind keeping me company.” They walked back toward the ranch. The little colt trailed behind the pair. “So, where ya from?”
Gillian laughed. “Do people still use that line?”
“You know us country folks. We’re a little behind city slickers like yourself.”
She smiled up at him. “I think you’re doing just fine.”
“So, you’ll tell me?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“If I guess? Will you tell me when I get it right?”
Gillian sighed. “Sure, why not?”
Quint slowed his pace. “How many?”
“How many what?”
“Guesses do I get. I mean if you give me forty-nine, I WILL eventually get it.”
“There are fifty states.” Gillian pushed at the hair on her face for the fifth or sixth time.
“Here.” Quint whipped a bandana from his pocket and shoved it at her. “You can keep the hair off your face.” He could smell her perfume. It wafted up around him as the breeze grew stronger. The sweet scent tickled his nose and sparked thoughts of soft skin and long, lingering kisses. He had the biggest urge to grab her hand and intertwine their fingers. Anything just to feel her. Maybe then pull her to a stop and drop a heavy kiss on that challenging mouth of hers. Instead, he held onto the rope with both hands to keep the temptation at bay.
Gillian’s soft laughter pulled him from his
thoughts. “You giving up already? Or did you not know there are fifty states?”
“Yes, I know there are fifty states, but I think we can pretty much rule out you being from Wyoming. And since you didn’t know where Montana was, I’m going to give that one a pass as well. So now we’re down to forty-eight.”
“Okay, smarty pants. Four then. What do I get if you can’t guess?”
Quint’s pulse raced. “A kiss?”
“And that’s MY prize?”
It’s a win-win for me, he thought. “Absolutely. Best prize in the whole state of Wyoming.”
“Ha!” Gillian crossed her arms over her chest. “That work on the girls around here?”
“Can’t say that I’ve tried to steal a kiss before.”
“They fall at your feet that easy, huh?”
Quint stopped her with a hand on her arm. A strand of hair pulled loose from the bandana and danced around her face in the growing wind. He couldn’t resist the urge and tucked it neatly back into place. “I’m not exactly sure what kind of guy you take me for.”
When Gillian didn’t pull away, Quint took it as a sign and leaned forward. Before he could even feel the heat of her breath a shock of lightning streaked through the sky and they jumped apart.
“I…” A huge clap of thunder jolted him in his boots.
Gillian screeched and grabbed Quint’s sleeve. “Sorry.”
Heat ran up Quint’s arm even with her fingers not touching his skin directly. It pooled low into his belly and spread through the rest of him.
The little horse pulled against the rope.
Quint tried to soothe him as small droplets of rain fell. “There’s a little shack up over the hill.” He held tight to the rope with one hand and took Gillian’s hand in the other then led the pair toward the shelter. As the topped the hill, the sky opened up.
“You call that a shack? It’s so dilapidated the wind may topple it onto us.” She pulled back against his hand as the colt pulled against the rope in the other. “It won’t even keep me dry much less all of us.”
“There was more of it the last time I was out here.” Quint grabbed her by the shoulder and steered her under the open slatted roof. The rotting shelter did little to protect them as the rain beat down with an unrelenting pace.
Wrong Turn, Right Cowboy: Paintbrush, Book 2 Page 4