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

“No,” she said gently. “I can see you’re not that sort of man.”

He believed her and that in itself was scary. He wasn’t expecting this woman to be able to read him, empathize with him. He’d looked for her to be cut from the same cloth as the rest that had come and gone in his life. The fact that she was so different knocked him totally off guard.

Clearing his throat, he tugged on her hand. “Well, time is getting on, we’d better mount up,” he told her.

With his hand beneath her elbow, he helped her across the rocky ground and over to where the horses stood tethered in the shade. After a few minutes of untying reins and tightening girths, they were ready to mount up and Quint automatically moved behind Maura to assist her into the saddle.

He was about to reach for a hold on her waist when she suddenly turned to face him. And as he found his face close to hers, he felt his heart thudding hard and fast. She was looking at him with eyes as soft as a summer night.

“I just wanted to thank you, Quint. For listening to my troubles. I used to be terribly embarrassed for anyone to know that Gilbert chased after other women.” Her long lashes fluttered demurely downward to hide her green eyes. “For a long time I thought—well, that I must be lacking as a woman. Now I’m beginning to believe that he was the one who was lacking something. Not me.”

Quint couldn’t stop himself from groaning as his hands settled on her shoulders. “Oh, Maura, you’re lovely and sexy and I want to kiss you. Very much.”

Maura didn’t stop to think or even speak. She simply closed her eyes and leaned into him. And when his lips came hungrily down on hers, something inside her melted like a sand castle beneath a wash of tide. He swept her away, made her forget, made her long for all the things she’d been trying to forget.

Expecting the kiss to turn as torrid as it had the other night when he’d visited Apache Wells, Maura was surprised when he soon lifted his head and gave her a crooked grin.

“We’d better mount up this time,” he said huskily. “Before I forget where we are.”

Unable to do much more than nod, Maura turned to Pearl and, with Quint’s help, climbed into the saddle. But as the two of them rode out of the quiet arroyo, all she could think about was being in his arms.

Chapter Six

Chillicothe consisted of five buildings grouped together in one small area and split by a dimly rutted road that, back in the town’s heyday, had probably been considered the main street. These days, tall sage and prickly pear had taken over most of the roadway.

As Quint and Maura rode through the ghostly village, she looked around with keen interest.

“This is very neat—having an old mining settlement on your property,” she said.

He shrugged. “It can also be a nuisance. Gramps and I are often approached about opening the place up to tourists. Some even suggest rebuilding it into a wild west town and charging admission. Can you imagine what a circus that would cause around here?”

“I wouldn’t like it,” she admitted. “What does Abe think?”

“Thank God he agrees with me on that issue. This little town is just like a grave site. It shouldn’t be trampled on by a bunch of strangers.”

Shaded by several tall cottonwood trees, the largest building of the lot had once been a company store and directly across from it, the swinging doors of an old saloon had long ago fallen from their hinges and landed on the planked porch. Down the street three more buildings were partially standing, one of which appeared to have been a blacksmith shop. Part of a forge was visible in the open doorway.

“We’ll come back in a few minutes for a closer look and have lunch,” he told her. “Right now let’s ride on to the mine. It’s just a short distance from here.”

“Fine,” she agreed.

After leaving the remnants of Chillicothe, they rode northwest for another quarter of a mile. Here the landscape changed to low mountains covered with short grass, a sprinkling of orange and purple wildflowers and a few pines.

When they reached a small creek trickling with crystal clear water, Quint said, “Back in the eighteen hundreds the miners first found gold panning this little creek. But it was a long time afterward before they began to dig for it.”

Bemused, Maura looked down at the stream. “I wonder if any nuggets are still around?”

“You’re welcome to pan,” he teased.

Laughing, she looked over at him. “No thanks. I might get the fever and then I’d have to set up camp out here.”

The grin slowly faded from his face. “That might not be a bad thing. Then I wouldn’t have to make excuses to see you.”

Since their stop at the arroyo, something had changed between them, Maura thought. She didn’t know exactly what it was or what had brought it about. But with every beat of her heart she could feel herself drawing closer and closer to this man. With every breath she took, the protective wall she’d built around her was crumbling away into useless rubble.

“You mean showing me Chillicothe and the mine was just an excuse to see me?” she asked.

His low chuckle was both sensual and suggestive and Maura’s cheeks burned with self-conscious heat. In her younger days, she’d never had trouble attracting the opposite sex and even since her divorce from Gilbert, she’d been asked on dates by a few men. But she could safely say none of them had been half as masculine or sexy as Quint. And just the idea that a man like this young rancher wanted her company rattled her senses.

“No. I honestly wanted you to see them,” he admitted with a grin. “Having your company is a nice addition.” He motioned for her to follow him across the creek. “Come on. The mine is just around this next hill.”

Maura was surprised when the entrance to the Golden Spur finally came into view. From all the talk that Abe had been doing about the mine, she’d expected something far more grand than a small hole in the side of the mountain.

Like the buildings in the nearby ghost town, the lumber used to frame the entrance had now weathered to little more than gray pieces of wood. In some places the nails had rusted completely away and the boards looked as though a strong puff of wind would cause them to collapse. But above the dark entrance, a large piece of tin with the name of the mine was still erect and dark enough to read.

After they dismounted and tethered their horses on an old broken wheel that someone had discarded, they walked near enough to the entrance to peer inside.

“So this is what has Abe all stirred up,” Maura said with amazement. “It doesn’t look like much from here.”

“It probably isn’t. As far as I know no one has been inside to do any type of work since back in the 1950s. At that time the miners weren’t pulling enough gold out to warrant keeping the thing open. But for some reason Gramps believes there are more veins of gold ore to be found here. Why, I don’t know,” Quint said wryly. “He just gets these hunches.”

“Well, from what he’s told me about his oil-drilling days, he’s had some good hunches.” Bracing her hand against one of the sturdier boards, Maura stuck her head inside and tried to peer into the dark cavern. “Can we go inside?”

“You mean you’d want to?” he asked with a bit of amazement.

“Sure. I’m not a scaredy cat.” As long as losing her heart to a man wasn’t involved, she thought. Though, she had to admit that the longer she hung around Quint, the more she was feeling the danger.

“Well, want to or not, it wouldn’t be safe. A few months ago, I went a short distance inside and from what I could see the timbers appeared to still be intact, but I’m sure the years have compromised their sturdiness. Since no one knew I was out here, I decided it would be foolish to explore any deeper.”

“Do you have any idea how far the mine goes back into the mountain? I’ll bet you could probably find old maps through county archives.”

“Gramps has a copy of one of the most recent maps made. There’s a network of shafts in there, but I don’t remember how deep they go. A fair distance, I think.”

She turned away from the dark cave to find Quint standing a few inches behind her and she wondered if he realized how tempting he was, how much she wanted to reach out and connect to him, even in the most simple ways.

Drawing in a breath, she asked, “Have you decided anything about bringing in the mining company to reopen the Golden Spur?”

His gaze narrowed keenly on her face. “I haven’t. Not yet. Why?”

She smiled gently. “Just curious. And if you’re thinking I’m going to take Abe’s side of things, you’re wrong. I’m not going to take yours or his. This old mine is between the two of you. The only thing I will say is that I can see pros and cons either way.”

He chuckled. “Very diplomatic, Maura. Maybe you should have been a politician instead of a nurse.”

She laughed along with him. “Well, my dad set me on a fence long before he put me on a horse. So I learned to straddle it first.”

His hand wrapped around her shoulder and she felt her breath catch in her throat as his fingers gently kneaded her flesh.

“Thank you, Maura. It feels good to be able to laugh and not take the mine issue so seriously.”

As she looked into his eyes, nerves fluttered in her stomach and unconsciously the tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lips. If he kissed her again, as he had in the arroyo, she didn’t know if she could hide the desire that was subtly simmering deep within her. “It feels good to me to be here and forget about a lot of things.”

Suddenly clearing his throat, he urged her away from the cave door. “Let’s go have our lunch. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Yes, she was starving all right, Maura thought. And she’d not realized just how much until Quint had stepped into her lonely life.

By the time they rode back to Chillicothe, the clouds overhead were pulling together to form a gray, menacing sky. After leaving their horses in the shelter of the old blacksmith shop, they carried their saddlebags down to the mercantile building.

Maura was totally surprised when Quint opened the door and she stepped inside to see an old table and chairs in the middle of the large wooden floor.

“I know this hasn’t been here since the town was deserted,” she declared.

“No. Jake and I hauled it out here. This building is in the best condition of all of them, so we chose it to fix up for a line shack. You never know when an electrical storm or a blizzard might blow up and it’s good to have a place to shelter or even spend the night, if need be. We have candles, kerosene lanterns, firewood and some canned goods and bedding all stored in the back.”

“This is neat,” she said as she gazed around her at the rows of dusty shelves lining the walls and a long counter running across the back. “We can leave the door open for light and it will almost be like we’re eating outside.”

Quint slanted her a rueful glance. “Unfortunately we only have an outhouse for a bathroom. It’s behind this building just in case you need it. But there’s piped water from a nearby spring for washing. You’ll find it at the side of the building near a wooden water trough.”

“Thanks,” she told him. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned he had sandwiches laid out on the tabletop, along with four cans of beverages. In the middle of the table, a fat candle held by a shallow jar lid was now lit and the glow of the flame helped chase away the gloom of the threatening rain clouds. She’d been present at a few candlelight dinners before, but none had been quite like this. And Maura realized the quaintness of their surroundings had only a small part to play in the specialness of the meal. It was Quint who was making it all so unique. Quint who was making her very aware of their isolated setting.

He helped her into one of the chairs and as she thanked him, he said, “I’d better warn you that the food is sorta sloppy. I’m not too good with kitchen duties.”

“I can eat most anything,” she told him. “And I brought a few things, too. Potato chips, candy bars and brownies.”

“That sort of bad stuff? From a nurse?” He chuckled as he took the chair across from her. “Where did you pick up such nasty habits?”

Laughing along with him, she said, “S-s-shh. Don’t tell anyone, but we nurses don’t always follow doctor’s orders.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now I won’t feel guilty about stuffing myself.”

Quint passed the sandwiches and drinks between them and they began to eat.

After Maura had downed a few bites in silence, his expression turned rueful.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. “That the sandwiches are soggy?”

“I couldn’t have made better,” she assured him with a smile, then added thoughtfully, “I was just trying to picture the people who used to live in this little town. I wonder if there were whole families who made their home here? Babies born here?”

He shrugged as he reached for one of the beer cans. “Probably. I think there was a population of about three hundred at one time. There’s another area just to the south of these buildings where you can find old foundations and other signs of houses. Gramps says not long after he purchased the land a fire swept through here, so the home sites might have burned. Thankfully that was many years after this little community died.”

She sighed wistfully. “Well, when the place was booming it must have been an exciting time for people. Each morning they probably climbed out of bed thinking today they’d discover the mother lode.”

He leveled a suggestive grin at her. “Why, Maura, you sound like a gamble excites you.”

He excited her. And he was definitely a gamble, she thought as her heart danced rapidly against her ribs.

“Funny you should say that. I’m considered the cautious little mouse of my family.” Her gaze fluttered awkwardly down to the planked tabletop. “And I suppose I am. I’ve never been one to play the odds—at anything. Out at the mine I told you I wasn’t a scaredy cat, but that was sort of an exaggeration. I’d like to be more adventurous, but I guess I’m just a sure-thing sort of person.”

“You got married,” he said softly. “I’d say you were adventurous.”

A cynical grimace tightened her lips. “Marriage isn’t supposed to be a risk. At least, I thought it wasn’t. I figured I knew all the important things there were to know about Gil. But I guess a person sometimes takes chances when she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.”

The corners of his mouth tilted into a faint smile. “That might be a good thing. Otherwise, we’d all be living in bubbles.”

Normally, Maura didn’t eat mayonnaise, but as she took another bite of the sandwich that Quint had made, she was surprised at how much she liked the taste. She was even more surprised at how much she was beginning to like him. Which was something completely separate from being swept away by his kiss.

“What about you, Quint? Are you a man who takes chances?”

“Only when I need to.”

His answer was evasive, but Maura didn’t prod him. Today was the most special day she’d had in a long, long time. There was no need for serious talk. This was a day to simply enjoy.

“That was a silly question from me,” she said after a moment. “Ranchers take risks every day. Dad always says that raising horses is like raising children—the job is hard as hell and you never know if any of them will turn out to be worth a damn.” She let out a short laugh. “But he loves us all—the horses and the kids—no matter if we aren’t stars.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Surely you don’t think you’re any less important than your siblings?”

One of her shoulders lifted and fell. “Did I say that?”

“Not in so many words. But there was something in your voice.” He reached across the table and touched his fingers to hers. “I sometimes get the feeling, Maura, that you’re down on yourself.”

The touch of his fingers was like a branding iron, sizzling a fire right through her hand and straight up her arm. He couldn’t possibly know how shaky and vulnerable he made her feel.

“My sisters are special. They’re both very beautiful and spunky. They go at life at full speed. I’m…just drifting.”

He frowned at her. “That’s plain wrong. You have a meaningful, admirable profession. You’re young and intelligent and very lovely. And you’re not drifting—unless you consider seeing after Gramps trivial.”

Surprise parted her lips. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean that at all. Abe is very important to me. I just meant that personally I’m drifting.” She sighed with a bit of frustration, then tried her best to smile. “I’m not down on myself, Quint. Just a little disappointed in the mistakes I’ve made.”

Unable to bear the burning touch of his fingers any longer, she pulled her hand away and reached for a plastic bag filled with brownies.

“Aren’t we all?” he murmured.

Her eyes locked with his and suddenly her heart lifted and a soft smile curved her lips.

“Yes,” she said huskily, then deciding it was time to change the subject completely, joked, “Is there a coffee house down the street? Coffee would be great with all these desserts we have.”

“We don’t have to go down the street, my lady. We can make coffee right here.” His eyes twinkled as he popped the last of a sandwich into his mouth and rose to his feet. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

She followed him to where the long counter separated the front of the room from the back. Behind the L-shaped barrier she was surprised to see a cast-iron potbellied stove and a small metal cabinet filled with canned food and basic staples for cooking. On the opposite side of the space, jammed in an out-of-the-way corner, an army cot covered with a faded Navajo blanket served as a bunk. Clearly, Quint had taken special efforts to make the place comfortable for him and the hired hands.

With his money, he could have gone overboard and rebuilt the whole structure. He could have supplied it with electricity, a bathroom and all the comforts of home. Instead, he’d chosen to keep the old building simple and full of character. He didn’t need or want everything he had to be new or perfect. And she realized she liked that very much about him.

“This is all very neat,” she told him. “Have you ever stayed here overnight?”

He chuckled as he shoved a few sticks of wood into the stove. “Once. About a year ago when Jake and I first started building the ranch. The two of us got caught out here in a blizzard and we ended up sleeping on the floor in our bedrolls and freezing our behinds. After that, we decided to fix this place up.”

He stuck a match to the kindling and when tiny flames began to lick at the sticks of wood, he shut the door on the stove and turned the damper wide.

“You’re very close to Jake, aren’t you?”

“He’s like a brother to me,” he said as he fetched a sack of coffee from the metal cabinet.

“Is that why you have him working for you?” she asked.

A faint grin touched his mouth as he filled the granite pot with water from his canteen. “I have him working for me because he knows everything there is to know about horses and cattle and can do more than three men put together. He was making good money at the track, working as manager over the training barns. But I was fortunate enough to talk him into helping me.”

“Hmm. From what I can see, you two are so different. How did you get to be such good friends?”

He poured a hefty amount of grounds into the water, then set the pot on the stove.

“In kindergarten and grade school we constantly whipped up on each other. He was always lipping off, daring me to do something I shouldn’t do. And I was the quiet one who exploded when he pushed too far. After a while, we both realized that neither could beat the other one up and we earned each other’s respect.” He looked at her and chuckled. “Thankfully, we don’t test each other anymore. Now that we’re grown men, I’m not sure who’d win. But I do know we’d fight for each other.”

She gravitated toward him and the heat that was now radiating from the stove. “I wish I could say I had a friend like that. But I don’t. In school, I guess you could say I was a loner of sorts. I had friends, but I didn’t build deep bonds with them. I saved all that for my sisters. The three of us are very close.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. My sister is my buddy, too. Although I don’t get to see her much now that she’s moved to Texas. Abe is trying to lure her and Jonas back, but I don’t think he’ll get that done. You see, Jonas is a Texas Ranger.”

“Abe tells me that you’ve driven him to San Antonio a couple of times to visit them,” Maura said. “If I remember right, he said the two of you made the trip to see Alexa and Jonas’s new daughter shortly before he started suffering from vertigo. That’s a long drive to make.”

Quint shrugged. “Gramps won’t fly. He says he doesn’t want to get any higher off the ground than a horse’s back. And when he dies he wants it to be with his boots on. But I don’t want to think of him dying in any fashion. I want to think of him living to be a hundred.”

Maura smiled gently. “And he’s just ornery enough to do it.”

His gaze met hers. “Yeah. He is.”

Something in his eyes, the softness in his voice, drew her to him in a way that was somehow even deeper and stronger than his kiss.

It was a strange sensation and so unsettling that she finally had to turn away and draw in a calming breath.

Behind her, she heard him move away, then the scrape of cans being pushed around the metal shelf. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he was putting away the sack of coffee grounds. Nearer to her, in the corner of her eye, she could see part of the makeshift bed and though she tried to keep her mind off it, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining how it might feel to lie with him here in the quietness, to feel his hands and lips moving over her body.

“Oh, hell! It’s going to storm!”

Quint’s exclamation had her spinning around just in time to see a huge gust of wind ripping through the doorway and snuffing out the candle on the table. Except for the light coming from outside, the space around them suddenly went dim and shadowy.

“I’ll get the door!” he shouted as he rushed around the counter and hurried to fasten the door.

Maura raced after him and peered through the slatted boards covering the empty squares that used to hold glass windows.

A wall of blue-black clouds was descending upon them at a rapid rate. Cold wind was tearing down the street, ripping clumps of dry sagebrush from the soil to send them rolling in erratic trails toward the opposite end of town.

“Oh, my, Quint, this looks like it’s going to be nasty!”

She’d hardly gotten the words past her mouth when a streak of lightning bolted across the sky and sent her leaping backward from the rickety window. Deafening thunder followed and she wrapped her arms protectively around herself as she waited for the sound to subside.

With the door latched as securely as he could manage, Quint walked over to her. Her face was pale with alarm and he instinctively reached out and circled his arm around her shoulders.

“We’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure her. “And the horses are safely sheltered away from the lightning. So we don’t need to worry about them.”

She looked up at him and tried to smile, but he could see her lips were quivering with the effort.

“I’m okay, Quint. I’m not normally afraid of storms. But in this flimsy old building, the force of it just feels closer.”

He gave her an encouraging grin. “Just think of it this way, Maura. This old store has been here for more than a century. Why should it crumble around us now?”

“Why indeed?” she asked, then just as she was trying to laugh at their predicament another clap of thunder rattled the roof far above their heads. “Oh!”

Grabbing her hand, he urged, “Let’s go to the back. The building is studier there. And the coffee is boiling over. I’ve got to get the pot off the stove.”