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.
“You think I’m going to do something to hurt your grandfather?” she asked.
He wasn’t expecting such a direct question from her, but then he probably should have. She had a blunt way of getting things out in the open.
“Not necessarily. Sometimes Gramps just expects too much out of people. And when they fall short he gets disappointed.”
She leveled her green gaze on him and Quint felt his heart pause, then jerk into a rapid thud.
“Have you ever disappointed anyone, Quint?”
What was the matter with him? Why did just watching her speak feel like an erotic adventure? Sexual starvation, he thought. And that was a fixable problem.
“Hell, yeah,” he answered. “Haven’t you?”
Something flickered in the depths of her eyes before they dropped away from his.
“Oh, yes. More than I’d like to think.”
She drew in a deep breath, then looked up at him one more time. “Whatever you’re thinking, Quint, I’m here to help your grandfather. Not hurt him. As long as you understand that, I think you and I can be friends.”
He wanted to be more than Maura’s friend. When he’d come to that realization, he wasn’t sure. Maybe just a few seconds ago when he’d looked at her moist lips. Or had it been minutes ago when he’d first looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, that dress hugging her breasts like the hands of a lover? Yes, he wanted to be more than Maura Donovan’s friend and the idea was shaking the fire right out of him. She wasn’t a casual sort of woman. But his body didn’t seem to care one whit about that fact.
“I believe you’re here to help Gramps. So let’s not rehash the issue, okay?”
A slow smile spread across her face and Quint stifled a groan. If he could just kiss those luscious lips once, maybe twice, then he could hopefully put these crazy urges behind him.
“I’m perfectly agreeable to that,” she said, then picked up the tray and offered it to him. “We’d better get back to Abe before he thinks we’ve deserted him.”
Smiling to himself, Quint took the tray and followed her out of the room.
Much later, as the three of them finished coffee around the dinner table, Maura quietly listened while Quint and his grandfather discussed the pros and cons of allowing Red Bluff Mining Company to reopen the Golden Spur. Maura’s knowledge about mining or taking gold from raw ore was practically nil, but from listening to their debate she could see that each man had good, solid reasons to back up his stand on the subject.
Throughout the meal, Maura had been a bit surprised to see that Quint wasn’t a yes-man to Abe on any subject, even though the elder Cantrell was the patriarch of the family and held the strings to a fortune in land and money. Clearly Quint respected his grandfather, but he wasn’t shy about speaking up when he didn’t agree with the old man.
Maura admired Quint’s spunk, but she was touched even more by the closeness and love she felt flowing between the two men. Gilbert had never shown much respect for his parents or tried to be a part of her family. She’d often voiced her disapproval about his lack of family connection and tried to make him see the joys he was missing, but her pleas had gone unheeded. One thing she knew for certain about Quint, he’d always be around for anyone he cared about.
“All right, Gramps, I’ll call them. Maybe not in the next few days. But soon. And I’ll get a rough estimate as to the initial cost to start things up. But that’s all I’m going to promise. I’m not interested in gold,” Quint was saying toAbe.
Maura smiled to herself as she saw Abe’s eyes begin to twinkle. Clearly he believed he was the winner tonight.
“Maybe not. But the gold will make it easier for you to be a rancher. And it sure as heck might be nice to leave to your young’ns.”
The muscles around Quint’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t make any sort of reply to his grandfather’s suggestion. Maura wasn’t surprised. When she’d brought up the idea of him raising children, he’d turned as cool as a frosty morning. Which could only mean he wasn’t interested in acquiring a wife, much less kids.
Putting down his coffee cup, Abe stretched his arms over his head, then pushed back his chair. “Well, I’m gonna go watch a little news,” he said. “Quint, why don’t you take Maura down to the stables and show her the new stud. She’s not seen him yet.”
Fully expecting Quint to come up with an excuse to leave, Maura got to her feet and began gathering the dirty dishes. “That’s all right, Abe,” she said, not bothering to glance Quint’s way. “I can walk down to the stables another time. It’s almost dark anyway.”
“It’s at least another half hour until dark,” Quint spoke up. “We have plenty of time.”
Maura’s gaze jerked to the end of the table just in time to see him rising from his seat. Instead of a look of boredom, she was surprised to see a smile on his face.
“Are you game?” he asked.
“Uh—sure.” She
