One Tiny Miracle: Branded with his Baby / The Baby Bump / An Accidental Family

She smiled at Jake and Quint had to fight the urge to jerk her away from the other man and usher her back outside where the two of them would be alone, where her smiles would be directed only at him.

What the hell was coming over him? Quint wondered with self-disgust. Instead of worrying about his grandfather, he needed to be concerned about his own reaction to this woman. He was behaving like a moony bull turned loose in a herd of cows.

“He’s my brother,” Maura said.

“I know him from working the barns at Ruidoso Downs,” Jake informed her. “Nice guy. Heck of a trainer, too. No one told me that he had a beautiful sister.”

Quint made a loud display of clearing his throat. “You’d better finish that saddle, Jake. In a few minutes, we’ve got to get back on that wire stretcher.”

The other man cast him a look of faint surprise, then reluctantly dropped Maura’s hand. “Maybe you’d better keep Maura around. Just in case one of us gets hurt again,” he joked. “Next time it might be me who needs her touch.”

“Keep it up, Jake, and I’ll make sure you get tangled up in barbed wire,” Quint muttered, then carefully steered Maura away from the ranch hand and out a back door.

Once they were well away from the barn, Maura asked, “Have you two known each other long?”

Quint grimaced. “Since kindergarten. We grew up together. He’s like a brother. That’s why I put up with his big mouth.”

Smiling, Maura shrugged. “I didn’t pay him any mind. He was only joking.”

“Don’t bet on it. Jake loves women. Always has.”

They were walking toward a long corral built of rough cedar boards. Attached to one end were several smaller pens with separate gates leading to the outside. Like the barn, the riding arena would have taken lots of time and effort to build. And as Maura looked around her, she could plainly see that Quint was far from the idle sort. He obviously worked hard for everything he had and she admired him greatly for that. Especially when she knew he loved what he was doing.

Gilbert, her ex-husband, had been a pharmaceutical representative and his job was to sell medical products to doctors in private practices, health clinics and hospitals. There was nothing physical about the job. He’d used his mouth and a pen. Two things he was good at. Especially the mouth, she thought grimly. He could sweet-talk a rabid dog into lying down and wagging his tail.

Thanks to his glib tongue, everyone had liked Gil and for several years running, he’d been top salesperson for his company. And that same gift of gab had made him very attractive to women, including Maura. In the beginning of their marriage his sweet talk had sustained and convinced her of his love. Then later, when things between them had grown difficult and doubts of his sincerity had haunted her, that same sweet, persuasive talk had kept her clinging to a man who was incapable of changing.

Yes, she knew all about flirts and all about trying to keep a man at her side. The first had fooled her into thinking she could succeed at the second. And in the end, her five-year marriage had crumbled along with her self-worth.

Shaking away the humiliating thoughts, Maura leaned a shoulder against the board fence and gazed back at the simple stucco house. What would it be like, she wondered, to live in such a simple place? With Quint Cantrell? He wasn’t a wanderer. Apparently he was a homebody, choosing to make his livelihood, his future, with the land. But it didn’t appear that he was a family man. Or maybe he was and just keeping those plans hidden, she silently mused.

“You’re going to have a fine place to raise a family here someday, Quint.”

His features stiffened. “It’ll raise cattle and horses. As for a family—I’m not looking for a woman or family right now,” he said flatly. “And I’m sure not holding my breath until that day.”

Seeing that her comment had rubbed him the wrong way, she pushed away from the fence. “Well, thanks for the tour, Quint. I enjoyed it. But I’d better be heading back. It’s not exactly a short drive back to Apache Wells.”

She started walking back in the direction of the house and her parked truck. Quint followed alongside her.

“Gramps rarely leaves Apache Wells. Maybe you can talk him into coming over here and taking a look at all the work we’ve finished. If that doesn’t interest him, then maybe visiting the old mine might budge him.”

Just from his words, Maura could see that having his grandfather’s admiration meant a lot to him. But what else really mattered to this man? If there was no special woman, no children to be had in his dreams, then what was the Golden Spur going to mean to him? Other than just a place to hang his hat?

At least the man has a future planned for himself, Maura. You have nothing on your agenda, except taking care of an old cantankerous man who could buy a dozen nurses like yourself.

Shoving away the mocking voice in her head, she said to Quint, “I’ll see what I can do about getting him to come for a visit. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that your grandfather does what he wants. Not what others would like for him to do.”

“No. You don’t have to tell me that.”

As they walked the remaining distance to the house, Quint realized he couldn’t keep his eyes off the woman. Her white shirt was sheer enough for him to see the imprint of her bra, the pattern of feminine lace covering her breasts.

She was not a small woman and he could tell by the silhouette of her curves that one breast would be more than enough to fill his hand, his mouth. The idea caused desire to flicker in some part of him that he’d long ago crossed off as dead. And he could only wonder what it was about her that had suddenly stirred him like this.

Since Holly had removed herself from his life, and he’d gotten burned by some superficial gold diggers, sex had become casual, something to forget afterward. And down through the years he’d pushed so hard and so long that he’d felt positive he’d never want another woman in his lifetime.

So why had Maura Donovan come along and reminded him that he was still a man? Lord, he didn’t know the answer. But now that she had, he was going to have to deal with her and himself in a smart and practical way.

At the truck, Quint opened the driver’s door and helped her up into the cab. She smiled down at him and he felt his practicality fly off with the dusty wind.

“Thank you for taking care of my cut,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Although, I wish you would consider going to a doctor. With a stitch or two, you would heal even quicker. And depending on how long it’s been since you’ve had one, you might need a tetanus shot.”

His lips took on a wry slant. “If I ran into town and got a tetanus shot every time I cut or punctured myself, I’d need a new set of tires every few weeks. Not to mention my body would look like a pincushion,” he said, then added in a more serious tone, “But I promise I had a booster a little while ago.”

Her smile turned to one of patient resignation. “Okay, I guess I trust you to take care of yourself.” She turned her attention to starting the engine, then glanced back at him. “Goodbye, Quint.”

He lifted a hand in farewell and she quickly backed away from him, then headed the nose of her truck down the rocky drive.

The urge to watch her drive away clawed at Quint, but he forced himself to turn in the direction of the barn. Her unexpected visit was over, he told himself. More than likely she wouldn’t return to the Golden Spur. And that was for the best.

The Diamond D thoroughbred ranch was located in a stretch of valley known as the Hondo Valley, a rich, fertile area where ranchers raised cattle and horses, and farmers tended acres of fruit orchards. To the north and south of the Donovan ranch house, desert mountains jutted starkly toward the sky, while in-between, irrigated meadows grew seas of knee-deep grass. The three-mile graveled track leading to the house split through one of those lush meadows and Maura drove slowly as she watched a herd of mares frolic with their colts behind a white board fence. Closer to the road, tall Lombardy poplars edged the long drive and towered like green spires into a sky as blue as Quint Cantrell’s eyes.

A rueful grimace touched Maura’s mouth as she steered her truck to a stop in front of the huge house built of native rock trimmed with rough cedar. She’d driven to the Diamond D this afternoon for a quick hello to her parents, whom she’d not seen in several weeks. This was hardly the time to be thinking about the young rancher with sky-blue eyes. In fact, no time was a good time to let her mind dwell on the man, Maura told herself. But for the past three days, since she’d visited his ranch, daydreaming about Abe’s grandson was all that she seemed to be doing.

After letting herself in, Maura passed through a long foyer and was entering a formal great room, when Regina, a tall, middle-aged woman with short, brown hair, appeared through an open doorway.

The woman spotted her immediately and gave her a little wave. “Well, look who’s here! Are you lost or something?”

Chuckling, Maura hurried across the room to kiss the woman’s cheek. For the past twenty years Regina had worked as a maid for the family. To the Donovans she was as much a part of the family as the six children were.

“I had a few chores to do in town,” Maura explained. “So I thought I’d drive out and let everyone know I’m still alive. Are my parents home? And Grandmother?”

Reggie snagged a hold on Maura’s shoulder and turned her toward the rear section of the house. “Fiona’s here. But Doyle drove your grandmother to Ruidoso for a visit with the dentist.”

“Oh, shoot,” Maura practically wailed, then sighed with resignation. “I should have called beforehand.”

Reggie said, “Well, the dentist visit was unexpected. Kate bit down on a piece of hard candy and chipped a tooth. Doyle practically twisted his mother’s arm to make her go have it examined.”

At age eighty-three, Kate Donovan was still in great health and just independent enough to think she didn’t need anyone taking care of her. Maura had always admired her grandmother’s spunk, especially after Arthur, her husband and Maura’s grandfather, died eight years ago. Since then Kate hadn’t waned or whined. She’d continued to have an input into the ranch her husband had founded more than forty years ago.

By now Maura and the maid had reached a point in the hallway where a wide opening led into a huge family room. With a flick of her hand, Reggie gestured toward the opening.

“Fiona is still in there, I think. Would you like me to bring in some fresh coffee, Maura? And I think Opal did some baking.”

Maura smiled gratefully at the woman. “You’re wonderful, Reggie. That would be great.”

Moments later, as Maura stepped into the long room, she spotted her mother sitting at a small desk. Even from several feet away, Fiona’s beauty radiated like a full bloomed rose. Her hair, threaded with silver, was still mostly black and wrapped in an elegant chignon at the back of her neck. A pair of dark slacks and pale pink blouse enhanced her slender figure.

Maura couldn’t imagine looking so wonderful at fifty-nine years of age, especially after giving birth to six children and raising them to adulthood. But then Maura couldn’t imagine herself with even one child. To have a family, she first needed a man. And after being so careful and turning down dates in her twenties, she’d done a miserable job when she’d chosen Gil.

Fiona must have heard her footsteps on the tile because she suddenly looked up from her work.

“Maura! Darling!”

The other woman put the ledger aside and rose to her feet. Maura hurried toward her mother’s outstretched arms. After a brief hug, Fiona stepped back and gave her daughter a thorough glance. “My gracious! You look so rested and pretty! And that dress—I’ve never seen you wear anything like it.”

For the first time in ages, Maura had felt a bit daring this morning. Instead of her usual jeans and blouse, she’d pulled a halter-styled sundress from her closet. The flowery fabric exposed Maura’s back and arms and revealed a hint of cleavage. No doubt her mother was wondering about this new flirtatious image. Especially since Maura was considered the most reserved of the Donovan sisters and usually dressed the part.

“It’s very warm out today,” she said in a dismissive way, then took her mother by the hand and drew her down on a long couch upholstered in red suede.

“Your father and grandmother are at the dentist’s office,” Fiona explained. “They should be back well before dinner. Do you plan to stay?”

Having dinner with her big, boisterous family was probably just the thing Maura needed to get Quint Cantrell from her mind. But Abe would be looking for her to return soon and though he didn’t demand her company every minute of the night and day, she wanted to get back to Apache Wells before a late hour.

“Not tonight, Mother. Abe will be expecting me.”

Fiona grimaced. “You told me the man wasn’t that ill. Surely you could be away for one evening,” she argued. “Aren’t there other people on the ranch who could watch out for him?”

Maura bit back a sigh. She wasn’t in the mood to defend her job to her mother. She didn’t want to have to explain to Fiona that her fondness for Abe was only part of the reason she’d chosen to live and work on Apache Wells. The problems she’d endured at the hospital with Dr. Weston were something she’d only shared with her sister Bridget. And she’d only discussed the matter with her because Bridget was a doctor and understood the nuances of medical life.

Before Maura had taken the job with Abe, Bridget had advised her to tell Dr. Weston to take his tacky flirting and go jump in the lake. And Maura had attempted to do that. Only in a nicer way. He’d not gotten the message and as Maura had contemplated Abe’s offer, she’d decided that even if Dr. Weston had gotten the message and quit pursuing her, the awkwardness of being around him would remain.

Face it, Maura, you jumped at Abe’s offer because you’re afraid to deal with men. Because you’re too much of a chicken to think about the dating game or confronting a man that might want you in a romantic way. You knew that you could hide on Apache Wells. Hide from men and your own failure as a woman.

The mocking voice inside her caused Maura to instinctively stiffen her spine. Maybe taking the job with Abe had been an escape for her. But since then she’d developed deep feelings for Abe and he’d become an important part of her life. To Maura, that alone was enough to justify her job.

“Tonight isn’t a good time, Mother. But I’ll make a point to come out for supper soon. I promise.”

Thankfully, Fiona didn’t press the issue and after Reggie arrived with coffee and homemade pralines, their conversation turned to Maura’s siblings and other happenings within the Donovan family.

A little more than an hour later, Maura bade her mother goodbye and was walking through the foyer to leave the house when her younger sister suddenly popped through the door.

“Maura!”

“Bridget!”

Both women laughed as their names came out in unison.

“Okay, you first, big sister,” Bridget said. “What are you doing here?”

Maura gave her younger sister a brief hug. “I could ask the same of you. Aren’t you working today?”

Bridget, who was somewhat shorter than Maura and had flaming copper hair, grinned in naughty fashion. “S-s-shh. I’m supposed to be back at the clinic by now. But I made a house call not far from here and I thought I’d stop by for a few minutes and see what I can swipe from the kitchen.”

“Opal just made pralines,” Maura told her.

“Sugar. That’s not what I need,” she said while patting a hand on her waist, then her green eyes sparkled as she took a closer look at Maura.

“My, my.You’re looking sexy today. What’s the occasion? Trying to give old Mr. Cantrell a heart attack or something?”

“Bridget! You’re awful! You shouldn’t be allowed to practice medicine!” Maura scolded.

Bridget laughed and Maura wondered how it would feel to be able to really laugh, to look at life with the same fun and excitement she’d once had. Perhaps if she’d been smart enough to avoid men entirely, the way her little sister had, she’d still be a happy woman.

“I’ve had a few patients tell me that very thing,” she confessed with another chuckle.

Maura started to scold her again, but the cell phone in her purse suddenly rang. Quickly, she fished out the small instrument and was faintly surprised to see the caller was Abe.

“Excuse me for a moment, Bridget. I’d better take this.”

Bridget lingered in the foyer while Maura exchanged a few brief words with the man. Once she’d ended the call, Bridget looked at her with concern.

“What’s the matter? Who was that? You’ve gone pale.”

As her sister shot questions at her, Maura slowly put the phone back in her handbag.

“It was Abe. He wanted to let me know that we’re going to have company tonight.”

“Is that all? From the look on your face I thought a tornado was about to hit. Who is this company anyway? Someone interesting?”

Maura did her best to wipe all expression from her face. “You might think so. It’s Quint Cantrell. Abe’s grandson.”

“Mmm. I saw him not too long ago in Ruidoso,” Bridget said thoughtfully. “I was pulling into a parking space on the street and he was coming out of the Blue Mesa. I have to admit he looks sexier now than he did when we were in high school.”

Like a jolt of loud, unexpected thunder, jealousy shook Maura. “Then maybe you should join us for dinner,” she quipped. “I’m sure you’d be more than welcome.”

Unaware of her sister’s reaction, Bridget playfully wrinkled her nose. “No thanks, sis. Quint obviously isn’t into redheads with freckles. Actually,” she added in a more serious tone, “I don’t think he’s into women. Period. Not after the wringer Holly put him through.”

For the past few days that was exactly what Maura had been telling herself. The man didn’t want a woman in his life. Yet during that short time she’d spent with him on the Golden Spur, he’d touched her, looked at her as though he’d actually wanted to be close to her. Or had that only been the twisted imaginings of a lonely divorcée?

One way or the other, Maura supposed she would find out tonight. And she wasn’t ready for the answer.

“Maura? Are you all right?”

As Bridget touched her arm, Maura’s thoughts jerked back to the present and she turned a strained look on her sister.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Her gaze shrewdly studying Maura’s face, Bridget shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me. Is something going on with Quint that you haven’t told me about?”

Setting her jaw, Maura quickly turned and started toward the door. “Don’t worry, little sister. If I see that Quint Cantrell is back into women you’ll be the first to know.”

Chapter Four

An hour later, when Maura arrived back at Apache Wells, she was surprised to find Quint’s pickup already parked next to Abe’s old Ford. But once she entered the small ranch house, neither he nor Abe was anywhere to be found.

But before she could get to her room to change out of her revealing dress she heard voices on the porch, then footsteps entering the house.

“Maura! Where are you, girl?”

Abe’s yells had her groaning as she turned from her room. Quint would just have to see her like this and she’d have to appear as though she was comfortable with exposing plenty of skin to his sharp gaze.

“Here I am,” she announced as she stepped into the cozy living room.

Abe, who’d been reclining in his favorite leather chair, plopped his boots on the floor and let out a low whistle. Across from him, sitting at one end of a long couch, Quint stared at her. Maura found it much easier to focus her gaze on the elder Cantrell.

“Ooooeee! Don’t you look pretty!” The old man glanced over at Quint. “Look at her, boy. Have you ever seen anything so pretty around here?”

Quint’s shocked stare couldn’t decide if it wanted to settle on Maura or his grandfather. “Grandma wasn’t exactly ugly,” he reminded a grinning Abe.

Abe’s grin turned into an impatient frown for his grandson. “Been many a long year since your grandma was with us. It’s high time we had another pretty woman in the house.”

Across the room, Maura cleared her throat and like a magnet Quint felt his gaze drawn to her slender image outlined by the open doorway. The flowered dress she was wearing made her look all woman and then some. His male ego wanted to think she’d worn the sexy garment for his benefit, but he knew otherwise.

“You should have warned me earlier that Quint would be here for supper,” Maura said to Abe. “I would’ve gotten back sooner. It will take me a while to prepare something and—”

“Forget about cookin’, honey!” Abe interrupted. “I didn’t hire you as kitchen help! Jim has already fixed things. All we have to do is heat it up.”

She looked surprised and Quint got the feeling that his grandfather probably manipulated his nurse as much as he tried to maneuver him. He could only wonder how long Maura would be willing to put up with the old man and what it would do to him when she flew the coop.

Maura said, “Oh. Well, I usually prepare our meals. You—”

“Tonight you’re gettin’ a rest,” Abe interrupted again. “So don’t worry about it.”

A smile fluttered around her lips. “All right.”

Abe motioned for Quint to get to his feet. “Go find us some of that blackberry wine and pour us all a drink, Quint. I feel like celebrating tonight.”

Quint rose from the couch and ambled toward the doorway where Maura still stood. “What do you have to be celebrating?” he asked his grandfather.

“Bein’ alive. Ain’t that enough?”

Quint exchanged a pointed look with Maura and this time when she smiled the expression was genuine.

“I’ll help you find some glasses,” she told him.

He followed her down a short hallway and into the small kitchen. Along the way, he caught the rosy scent of her perfume as his eyes watched the folds of her dress move to the sway of her shapely hips.

Lord, it was no wonder Abe was behaving in such a goofy manner, Quint thought. Just looking at this woman was enough to send a man’s temperature skyrocketing.

“I think the wine is over there,” she said while pointing to a white metal cabinet situated at the far end of the room. “If you’ll look for it, I’ll find the wineglasses.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Quint tore his eyes off her backside and headed to the cabinet. “Gramps hardly ever drinks spirits. I don’t know what’s come over him—he’s acting strangely happy,” he mumbled as he pushed aside cans and jars on the jammed pantry shelf. “Is it okay for him to drink this stuff, anyway?”

He pulled out the bottle of blackberry wine and walked over to the cabinet where she was placing goblets on a silver tray.

“A small amount won’t hurt,” she said, then slanted a glance at him. “And why do you call Abe being happy strange? I’d think him being happy is a good thing.”

It would be a good thing, Quint thought, if his grandfather’s joy didn’t depend on a woman. He’d learned through the years that they were fickle creatures and more often than not slanted the truth to their own advantage. Before their breakup, he’d caught Holly in several lies, yet she’d insisted she’d kept the truth from him because she’d loved him. He’d heard the same excuse from his own mother when he’d discovered she’d been dishonest about her past. Women never separated right and wrong with a clear line. They always wanted to soften and blur the edges with emotions and reasons. As though that would keep a man from feeling hurt and betrayed.

“I just don’t want his bubble burst.”

After twisting off the cap, he offered the wine bottle to her. She took it and carefully began to fill each glass with a small amount of the dark liquid. Quint’s gaze fell to the shiny crown of her head and the dark red strands of hair lying on her bare shoulders.