she just didn’t feel anything for him except a mild friendship.
As his car pulled away, she went back inside to the kitchen table. She finished making her list and by then it was time to kiss the kids good-night.
She went into the boys’ bedroom first. The room held two bunk beds and at the moment all four sleeping places were occupied. Barry and Sam, the two older boys, had the top bunks and eight-year-old Jimmy Nigel and seven-year-old Caleb Torrel had the lower bunks.
“All tucked in?” she asked Barry as she approached him first.
He nodded. “Will you keep the nightlight on?” he asked anxiously. “I’m not scared or anything, but I just don’t like the dark.”
Jewel smiled at the dark-eyed boy. They had this same conversation every night. “The nightlight will be on until morning. Sleep tight, Barry.”
As she moved from Barry to Sam and then to the two younger boys, she couldn’t help but think of the baby she’d lost. She’d desperately wanted to be a mother, had been thrilled to discover she was pregnant. The minute the doctor had confirmed what she’d suspected, her heart had filled with a happiness she’d never known before and hadn’t known since.
As she moved from the boys’ room to the girls’, she shoved away thoughts of the baby she’d lost and dreams of what might have been.
There were three girls in residence at the moment. Kelsey slept on the top bunk of one of the beds and on the lower bunks were Lindy Walker and Carrie Lyndon, both ten years old.
Jewel went to Kelsey first. She didn’t touch the girl in any way, wouldn’t invade Kelsey’s personal space unless she was invited to do so. “Ready to call it a night?”
Kelsey nodded, her green eyes less guarded than they’d been the day before. “I’m not used to going to bed so early.”
Jewel smiled. “We believe in the routine of early to bed, early to rise around here. Besides, with school starting next week, it’s important that all of you get plenty of sleep.”
Jewel moved to the other beds, where the girls demanded good-night kisses and hugs, then she left the room and turned out the light. As in the boys’ room, a small nightlight burned in a wall socket.
She met Cheryl in the hallway and smiled tiredly. “Another day done,” she said.
Cheryl returned her smile and swept a strand of her long, dark hair behind an ear. “I wanted to run an idea by you. Jeff and I would like to plan a day trip for the kids in the next couple of weeks. There’s a Native American museum two hours from here and we thought it would be fun to visit the museum and have a picnic lunch at a nearby park.”
“Sounds like something they would enjoy,” Jewel replied.
“We haven’t finalized a day yet, I just wanted to put a bug in your ear about it.”
“Let me know what you and Jeff decide and we’ll work out the details.”
Cheryl nodded. “Then I’ll just say good night.”
As Cheryl headed toward the front bedroom where she and Jeff slept, Jewel returned to the kitchen. She tucked into her purse the list of supplies she needed to buy, then once again sat at the table to make notes in the files she kept on each of the children.
Busywork. In the back of her mind she knew that’s what she was doing, creating work to keep her mind off the fact that soon it would be time to go to bed.
To sleep.
To dream.
Again the taste of dread mingled with a simmering terror. If only she could have one night of peaceful sleep and happy dreams. If only she could wake up in the morning well-rested and happy.
If only Andrew hadn’t died in the car accident.
She sighed and focused back on the files in front of her. These were her children, the ones who came to Hopechest Ranch in need of stability and love. They were all she needed. And maybe a good night’s sleep was vastly overrated.
She didn’t know how long she’d sat working when she heard a strange scratching sound. She got up from the table and followed the noise to the front door. Definitely sounded like something scratching for attention.
Equally curious and wary, she unlocked the door and cracked it open. The door shoved inward and a chocolate-colored dog jumped up at her. In surprise she stumbled backward and fell on her behind. The dog licked her face as if she were a long-lost friend that he was thrilled to see again.
“Okay, okay,” she said with a burst of laughter as the dog continued to lavish her with kisses. She looked up to see Quinn standing in the doorway. Her heart jumped with a quickened beat.
He stepped inside and took the dog by the collar. “Sorry about that,” he said as she quickly got to her feet. “He’s a Lab and just a puppy so he hasn’t learned his manners yet.”
“It’s okay.” Jewel reached up and self-consciously raked her fingers through her hair. As always the sight of Quinn sent an electrical tingle through her. “He’s a cutie. Is he yours?”
“Actually, I was hoping he’d be yours,” Quinn said.
“Mine?” She looked at him in surprise.
The dog sat on the floor next to him, looking first at Quinn, then at Jewel, as if aware that they were talking about him.
“It might be presumptuous of me, but I thought maybe you could use a companion, especially when you decide to take a walk in the woods late at night.” Quinn shoved a strand of his thick, wavy hair away from his eyes, and shifted from foot to foot, as if suddenly extremely uncomfortable. “Maybe it was a stupid idea.”
“No, it was a lovely idea,” she replied, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “Actually, we’ve talked about getting a dog since I first opened the doors here, but we’ve just never gotten around to it. What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have an official name yet.” Quinn’s eyes were a warm topaz. “I have to warn you, he’s only twelve weeks old. He’s not quite housebroken, but he’s a big lover and has a terrific personality. Most important, he’s great with kids.”
“Then how can I possibly turn away such a wonderful gift?” she replied. The children would be positively thrilled with this new addition to the family. “Maybe we’ll put him in the garage for tonight. Do you think that’s okay?”
He nodded and clipped a leash to the collar. “I’m sure that’s fine. Why don’t you take him and I’ll unload the supplies from the truck.”
“Supplies?”
He smiled, a warm, beautiful gesture that detracted from the scar across his cheek and transformed him from slightly dangerous-looking to more than slightly wonderful-looking. “In the truck I’ve got a doggie bed, food and water bowls, a couple of toys and several bags of kibble.”
“Quinn, you didn’t have to do all that,” she protested as she took the leash from him.
“It wouldn’t be fair to
