The Mighty Quinns: Tristan

Violet sighed softly. “Back to the matter at hand... We could be like cats with a mouse with this lawyer. When we grow tired of him, we’ll send him home. We haven’t had real amusement here in such a very long time. Let’s do ask him to stay.”

“I asked Finch to take him on a tour of the colony while we talked,” Lily said. “He’s supposed to bring Quinn back here for tea when they’re finished. But we should have our plans in place before he gets here.”

“How old is he?” Rose asked.

“I suppose he’s about my age,” Lily replied.

The aunts looked at each other and smiled. “And is he handsome?” Violet asked Lily.

“No, he looks like a lawyer,” Lily said, “one of those shrewd, ruthless types who eat people like us for breakfast.”

“Oh, he can’t be that bad. Even a lawyer has to have some redeeming qualities.”

“They can get you out of jail when you’ve started a brawl at the Opera Ball and slapped a policeman’s horse,” Daisy said.

“I’m sure, given time, the three of us can noodle the truth out of him,” Violet said.

A knock sounded on the screen door and Violet stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and beneath her scarf. “Well, shall we have a look at Lily’s lawyer?”

Lily held her breath as her aunt walked to the door. A few moments later, Mr. Quinn James stepped inside. He had an easy way of moving that made all eyes in the room follow him. Lily could see immediately that even her aunts found him attractive. What was it about him?

Was it the nearly black hair that looked as though he had just gotten out of bed? His face was a perfect balance of features, so composed that a search for any flaw was impossible. Or was it his voice? Deep and warm and so sexy that it made her heart beat just a tiny bit faster with every word that he spoke.

Violet held out her hand, arching her wrist and waiting for the customary kiss rather than a polite shake. Lily was surprised that he took the cue and touched his lips to a spot just above her fingers.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Violet.”

Violet introduced her sisters and Quinn kissed their outstretched hands, as well.

“Quinn James, at your service,” he said. He sat down next to Lily, his thigh brushing against hers. Warmth seeped into her bare leg and she found her attention fixed on the spot, her pulse pounding in her head.

“Where are you from, Mr. James?” Violet asked.

“Call me Quinn,” he said. “The Twin Cities. I was born in St. Paul. I’ve lived there all my life.”

“And how long have you been writing?” Rose asked.

“Five years, on and off. I’ve only just decided that it’s something I really want to pursue.”

“Lily tells us you’d like to stay with us for a while,” Rose said.

“I’m not sure that we have an opening,” Lily interrupted. “You may have to share a cabin. And we rarely take unpublished writers. Unless, of course, we have a chance to read their work first.”

“Now, darling, I’m sure we can find him a suitable place to stay. After all, he has important work to do.” Violet fixed her gaze on him.

“There is the other side of Finch’s cabin,” Rose suggested. “And I’m sure Finch would enjoy the company.” Rose turned to smile at Quinn. “What say you, Mr. James? We’d be happy to have you stay.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” he said.

* * *

“WELL DONE,” VIOLET SAID. “Now that everything is settled, would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. James?”

Tristan was trying not to fist-pump. “Actually, I’d rather head back to the city right away,” Tristan said. “I need to pack a few things.”

“You didn’t bring your things along?” Violet asked.

“I suppose I wasn’t sure that you’d let me stay.” He stood and gave them a smart bow. “But now that I am, I’m anxious to move in and get started. Ladies, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do be sure to arrive by seven tomorrow night,” Rose said. “Billy Farnsworth-Chadwick will be doing some scenes from Othello in our little theater, and he’s asked Violet to dust off her Desdemona. She hasn’t done that role since she was a stand-in opposite Olivier in London.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Quinn said.

Lily walked out the front door and held it open for him before they both went down the front steps. “I probably should’ve warned you about the aunts,” she said.

“No,” he said. “They’re wonderful. Did she actually play opposite Laurence Olivier on the stage?”

“You can never be sure with the aunts,” Lily said. “Sometimes their stories are true. And sometimes they’re just wishful memories. I usually don’t try to differentiate between the two. As long as they’re happy, so am I.”

When they reached the car, Tristan took her hand and pressed his lips against her wrist. A shiver skittered down her spine as the aftereffects of the simple kiss seeped through her bloodstream.

It had been a long time since a man had placed his lips on her body. And he hadn’t been able to hide the fact that he was attracted to her. Surely there was some way she could make that work to her advantage.

For now she’d simply keep her eye on him. She’d find out the real reason for his appearance here and if he was working for the family, she’d send him packing.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” said Lily.

“Is there anything you’d like me to bring you from the city?” Quinn asked.

“Not that I can think of,” Lily said. “Just bring me something interesting to read. Your novel would be nice.”

He chuckled softly before slipping behind the wheel and starting the car.

“Goodbye, Lily,” he said.

“Goodbye, Quinn.” Lily stepped back from the car and watched as he drove off, a small cloud of dust trailing after him.

She would have to keep a clear head if she was going to figure out his motives. He was quite a charmer, and she’d have to keep her wits about her. If he wasn’t who he claimed to be, she’d find a way to expose him.

Expose him... Lily smiled to herself. It wasn’t often that someone young and attractive wandered into camp, but Lily usually took advantage when it happened. A summer romance was always good for the creative juices. In the past, she’d done her best work while indulging in a little affair.

She shook her head. She had to remember that Quinn wasn’t all he appeared to be. For now and the near future, she would keep Quinn at a safe distance.

She shivered, then rubbed her arms against the goose bumps that prickled her skin. It was at that moment she realized she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath the loose cotton shift she wore.

Lily groaned, then turned and headed back to her cabin. She was used to running around in anything that she tossed on. With a dangerously attractive man nearby, she might actually have to put some thought into being more conservative with her wardrobe.

* * *

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, our firm has been working on this case for over three years and we have very little to show for it. The three sisters are still living happily on the property with no plans to vacate. I propose to get close to them, to live with them at the colony and find out what they really want. The big question I will answer is, what settlement would make them happy?”

Tristan scanned the conference room, searching for support for his unconventional idea. The law firm of Forster and Dunlap was not the kind of establishment that encouraged unconventional ideas. In fact, from the start, Tristan had felt like the odd man out among so many straightlaced and buttoned-up lawyers. But the firm had offered a start to a guy who was high on charisma and a little low on his law school GPA.

Getting through law school had been much tougher than Tristan had ever imagined. But then life had never been easy for him—or his two brothers. From a young age, they’d been forced to fend for themselves, first because their parents hadn’t cared, then because their parents had abandoned them and then because they’d been in the foster care system.

He and Thom and Jamie had survived, but just how, he’d never been able to explain. Maybe it was the strength they’d found in each other, or the stubborn resolve they all had to survive and succeed.

He’d worked his way through college with the help of grants and odd jobs, but law school had been a different story. The expense and the expectations had almost killed him. He’d held down both a job and a full schedule of night school classes. That usually left no more than four or five hours to sleep at night.

But Tristan had been determined. At first, he had wanted to prove to the world that the eldest of Denny Quinn’s boys was more than just a criminal’s son. And then he’d needed to prove to himself that he was safe. That there would always be food in the refrigerator and a warm place to sleep.

He cleared his throat, waiting for some reaction from the partners in front of him. Sure, his idea was a little “out there.” But they’d tried everything else and it had failed. Now was the time for creative solutions. And he’d already been invited to stay at the colony. Why not use that stroke of luck to their advantage?

Bob Forster, one of the two senior partners in the firm, finally decided to comment. “Just how are you going to carry off this charade? You’re not a writer.”

“That’s a minor detail,” Tristan said. “I’m sure I’ll have to provide some type of work at some point, but I’ll do my best to delay that. My sole focus will be to spend time with the Pigglestone sisters and try to get to know them better. If I can get them to trust me, they may consider an offer from us.”

Reggie Dunlap, the other half of Forster and Dunlap, chuckled softly. “I’ll say this. It’s a damn creative approach to our problem. You’re nothing if not charming, Quinn. I’ll give you that. So, how long do you think it will take before we have an answer?”

“That depends,” Tristan said.

“On what?” Forster asked.

“On how long I can pretend to be Quinn James. And how long it takes for the sisters to trust me.”

“What about Lily Harrison?” Forster asked. “She’s the one who has the most influence on the old ladies. How are you going to deal with her?”

“I suspect she’ll be the easiest,” Tristan said. After all, he could already sense she was attracted to him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been the one to convince the sisters to offer him a spot at the colony.

“Still, she’ll be the most suspicious. And I’m not satisfied that you’ve covered yourself on the writing angle. You need a manuscript.”

Tristan’s assistant, Melanie Parker, timidly raised her hand. Legal assistants usually didn’t speak at partners’ meetings, but this wasn’t just any meeting. “Melanie?”

“I—I’d like to offer a suggestion,” she said. “I do a little writing myself and I’ve been working on a novel for about a year now. It’s a legal thriller with some romance thrown in. It’s almost done. I could give it to Tristan to use as his own writing.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Tristan said.

“Who knows,” she said. “Maybe you’ll be able to make a connection with a famous writer who’ll help me get it published. At the worst, I could get some criticism or helpful notes.”

Tristan didn’t have the heart to tell her that the colony was made up of retirees and has-beens. He doubted there was anyone there who had any connections at all to publishing. But Melanie was a good person who was helping him out. If this plan worked, he’d find a way to make those connections for her. Tristan almost hoped that the book was bad, though. It would make Lily less suspicious.

“It’s a good plan,” Reggie said. He stood up, effectively calling an end to the meeting. “You’ve got a month, Quinn. You get the job done properly, you’ll be up for junior partner.”

Tristan stood as the partners left the conference room. When they were gone, he let out a tightly held breath. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at Melanie as he flopped back down in his chair. “I think your suggestion sealed the deal.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she said. “Now everyone will wonder if I have plans to be an author, instead of the best darn paralegal at Forster and Dunlap. Maybe it would be better if you told them all that my book is really, really bad.”

Tristan gathered his papers and tossed them into his briefcase. “I doubt it’s bad,” he said. “I think you’d make a great author.” He paused and snapped his briefcase shut. “Don’t you ever wonder what you’re really supposed to be doing in this world? I mean, maybe you were meant to be a writer and not a paralegal.”

“I’d like to think so,” Melanie said. “When you read my book, will you promise to give me your honest opinion?”

Tristan met her gaze and saw a vulnerability there that he’d only seen on a few prior occasions. He’d come to depend on Melanie over the three years they’d worked together. In truth, he felt somewhat protective of her, almost as if she were his little sister. Her dark hair was always pulled back in a haphazard bun and her horn-rimmed glasses sat on her nose at a perpetually crooked angle. She also seemed to prefer frumpy business suits that could only be described as unflattering.

There were times when he’d caught her looking at him with an odd expression on her face, and he wondered if she might harbor some unrequited feelings for him. But then she’d return to business as usual and he’d realize that there was at least one woman in the world who was immune to his charm.

“So, why don’t we get a copy of your manuscript and let’s talk about it.”

“Really? I haven’t told anyone that I’ve been writing. You’ll be the first to read it.”

“What’s the title?”

“Legal Tender,” she said.

“Nice title.”

2

LILY SAT ON the front steps of her cottage, her arms wrapped around her knees and her gaze fixed on the drive leading out to the main road. It was 3 p.m. and she had been waiting for Quinn’s arrival since nine that morning.

“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. Why not just go about her business as if this were just any other day? Today, she’d already walked down to the bathhouse and taken a shower. Then she’d sat on the end of the dock and combed through her hair before heading to the dining hall for breakfast. Lunch was followed by a short trip to her studio before she decided to give up entirely and focus her attention on the road.

What if he decided not to return? If her suspicions were correct and he was a lawyer pretending to be a writer, then he’d have every reason not to come back. His lies could easily be exposed, especially if he couldn’t produce a manuscript.

“Hey, Lily. That’s a pretty dress. Are you going into town?”

She forced a smile as Bernie Wilson shuffled up. Bernie was the only working author that lived at the colony, and at forty-five, he was also the only man even remotely close to her own age. He’d somehow taken this simple fact and twisted it into a belief that they were destined to be together.

Bernie wrote science fiction and made a decent living with his craft. He certainly didn’t need to live at the colony, but he’d been spending his summers on Fence Lake for the past eight years and in that time, had become their most successful resident.

“I heard someone new is moving in,” he mumbled, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Lily nodded. “Yes. He’ll be arriving later today, I think.”

“Where’s he going to stay?”

“There’s an extra bedroom in Finch’s cabin. He’ll stay there until we can get one of the cabins on the peninsula cleaned up for him.”

“I spotted a yellow-bellied sapsucker today,” Bernie said. “Right over there, on the point.”

“Yeah, they’ve been around,” Lily said. She stood up and brushed the dust from the front of her dress. “I’ll see you later, Bernie.”

“Are you coming to critique group tonight?”

“No, I don’t have anything to read. And Violet is doing some scenes from Othello with Billy tonight. She’s probably going to want my help setting up the stage.”

“Sure. No problem. Maybe next week.” He turned to walk away, then stopped. “You write really nice poetry,” Bernie said.

Lily smiled. “Thanks, Bernie. I should probably get to work on my painting. Bye.”

She hurried off in the direction of the tree house studios, the sound of harp music drifting on the humid morning air. Evaleen Deschanter, a folksinger, sat on the porch of her cabin, plucking on the harp strings as she sang a tragic ballad of ill-fated lovers.

“Hi, Lily,” Evaleen said, smiling slyly as she came closer. “I hear we’re getting a new member of the colony today. Violet says he’s quite a handsome young man. I can hardly wait to meet him.”

Gossip raced around the colony like wildfire in a dry field. Lily usually barely paid attention to it, but now some of the attention seemed to have turned toward her. This man could possibly be the enemy and everyone was delighted to let him in the gate.

Lily shook her head. “He’s very charming. I expect he’ll be very popular with the ladies.”

There were twenty-one artists who spent part or all of the summer at the colony. Fourteen of them were women and Lily was the only one who hadn’t yet celebrated her sixty-seventh birthday. The seven men were all over seventy, with the exception of Bernie, who was in his mid-forties. Lily had accepted the fact that she was spending her days and nights in a veritable retirement community. But now that was all about to change.

She passed three more artists and they offered her the same pleasant greeting and hopeful wishes. By the time she climbed the narrow steps up to her studio and dropped the trapdoor on the tree house, she could barely hold her temper in check.

The studios had all been built on stilts overlooking the lake. Of all the spots in the colony, her studio was where she felt most herself. Screened on four sides, it caught the summer breeze and it was just cozy enough to hold everything she needed for her painting. The trees blocked views of the other studios, so privacy was never an issue. She could cry, she could sing, she could tear off all her clothes and dance around and no one could see.

Lily raised the shutters to let in the light. Afternoon sun filtered in through the leaves on the trees, and she found a spot of light perfect for her work. She grabbed an abstract painting she’d recently begun and set it on an easel. Then she pulled up a stool and sat down, studying the painting for a long moment.

She’d never been a very good judge of her own work, but this painting seemed to be something special, a step ahead for her.

There had been moments in the past few years when she’d felt this way, as if she’d opened a door or discovered a new window and found something wonderful inside. But it hadn’t been often, and she usually found herself in front of a blank or disappointing canvas wondering what she was doing with her life.

Lily was lucky that she had money from her family to support her. Still, she wanted to believe that her work was headed somewhere. Maybe when this piece was done she’d finally feel she was a true artist.

It was easy to lose herself in her work, and before she knew it, an hour had passed. Her hands were covered with paint and there were rags that she’d used to wipe her brushes tossed about the floor. The painting now looked more focused, a new layer of color adding a deeper meaning. But she couldn’t help noticing that the color was very similar to that of Quinn James’s hair...

The sound of a bell ringing caught her attention and she stood up. Without telephones or a public address system, the camp relied on a single brass bell, mounted next to the door of the dining hall, to call the residents for a meal or to assemble for a meeting. There was only one reason to ring it at this time of the day. Their new guest had arrived!

Her heart skipped a beat and Lily felt a wild sense of anticipation. She hadn’t been able to put Quinn out of her head since the moment he had left the day before. Now that he was here, she had a better chance of figuring him out. Was he a wolf dressed in writer’s clothing? Or was he just a charming guy who enjoyed flirting with a single woman?

Until she knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, she reminded herself to maintain her distance. But she would at least greet him along with the others. She climbed down the stairs and ran along the soft dirt path that led back to the main lodge.

When she reached the clearing, she noticed a large crowd had already gathered. Lily made a quick count and smiled to herself when the number matched the total number at camp. “I guess we’re all excited,” she murmured.

Lily slowly approached the group, her gaze on the man removing his bags from the trunk of his sports car. He was dressed differently today. His dress shirt and tie had been discarded in favor of relaxed shorts and a faded T-shirt. Sunglasses still hid his eyes and his thick, dark hair was covered by a baseball cap.

She moved to stand beside Aunt Violet, knowing that the eldest sister would be the one to make the official welcome. And as she had so many times over the years, Violet made a lovely little speech celebrating the event and introducing Quinn James to the entire group. After a quick round of applause and individual introductions, the group wandered off and Quinn was left with just three others—Violet, Lily and Finch.

Lily held out her hand. “It’s good to have you here, Quinn. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks, Lily.”

A long silence descended between them and Lily continued to smile, waiting for Violet to chime in.

When she didn’t, Lily said, “I need to get back to my work.” She held up her paint-stained fingers. “I’m having a—a breakthrough. Very exciting. Perhaps I’ll see you this evening?”

“I was hoping that you would show Mr. James around the colony,” Violet said.

“I thought Finch did that yesterday,” Lily said.

“I only gave him a very brief tour,” Finch explained.

“And I’ve asked Mr. Finch to drive me into town to pick up a few things for tonight’s performance, haven’t I, Mr. Finch?”

The elderly man looked back and forth between the two women, then finally nodded. “Yes, you have, Miss Violet, you certainly have. And yesterday I just gave Mr. James a quick tour. My cabin, the dining hall. There’s much more for you to show him, Lily. I’ll just carry Mr. Quinn’s bags up to the cabin and then fetch the car.”

“Don’t worry,” Quinn said. “I can take care of that.”

Lily’s heart was beating so hard she was certain everyone around her could hear it. She swallowed hard. “Fine, let’s go, then.” Lily turned to Quinn. “Ready?”

“Lead on,” he said.

She picked up a pair of his smaller bags, then pointed in the direction of Finch’s cabin. “This way.”

As they walked, Lily tried to come up with something to say to him, but her mind was racing with thoughts of their first encounter and the attraction that had pulsed between them. “I hope you’re ready to live in rather primitive conditions,” she said. “There’s a sink in each cabin, but no en suite plumbing. For that, you have to go to the shower house just down the hill. Or pee in the woods, which most of the men do.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“There are screens on all the windows, but you’ll need to lower the shutters to keep the rain out. Some of the evenings can be chilly, so I hope you brought some heavy blankets.”

“I thought I’d go into town and buy whatever I needed,” he said. “Heavy blankets. I’ll put that on my list.”

When they reached the cabin, Lily pulled the door open, and stepped back to let him inside. The interior was cozy, the walls lined with windows and shabby furniture scattered about. Finch worked at a small desk by the window that he’d covered with papers and books. “You can take the empty bedroom. And we’ll find you another spot to work. One of the tree house studios is empty.”

“Tree house? That sounds like fun,” he said, setting the bags down on the floor.

“They’re not really tree houses, but...well, you’ll see.” She smoothed her hands over the front of her dress. “Is there somewhere else you’d like me to take you? I’m not sure how much Finch showed you yesterday.”