few days later, as the weekend approached, Maura was considering driving over to the Diamond D on Saturday. Her mother was still hounding her about having supper with her family and Maura knew that Fiona wouldn’t let up with her nagging until her eldest daughter showed up.
But on Friday evening Abe came in early from the ranch yard and spent the last waning hours of sunlight in his easy chair. The behavior was out of character and, though he insisted he felt fine, Maura suspected the man was dizzy but just didn’t want to admit it to her.
Deciding she needed to stay close, Maura crossed the family meal off her plans and promised herself to go another time, when Abe wasn’t behaving so peculiarly. But by Saturday afternoon, he appeared to be back to his normal self and raring to get back with the ranch hands.
Late that evening, sometime after dark, Abe was still out when she answered the phone and was vaguely surprised to hear Quint’s voice. Since Abe carried his own cell phone, his relatives usually called him directly on it rather than over the landline.
“Hi,” he said. “I was about to think you weren’t in the house.”
Just the sound of his voice caused her heart to trip over itself and she realized no man had ever made her feel so giddy and young.
“I was in the laundry room,” she explained. “Abe is still down at the ranch yard. Did you try his cell?”
“I’m not calling to talk to Gramps,” he answered. “I wanted to speak with you.”
A warm flush swept up her torso and over her face. Since the night of their little kissing spree, she’d not seen or heard from him and she’d tried to write the whole thing off as a frivolous impulse on his part. There’d not been any other way to explain his behavior.
“Oh. Well, if you’ve been concerned about Abe, don’t be. He appears to be back to normal.”
“Concerned? I didn’t realize anything had been amiss with Gramps. I talked to him this morning. He sounded fine. Has anything been wrong?”
“Not exactly. Yesterday he stayed indoors more than usual. That’s all. But that appears to be over with now.”
“Good. Then you wouldn’t feel anxious about leaving the ranch for a few hours?”
Maura’s mind raced ahead. What could he be getting at? “No. I wouldn’t worry. Why?”
There was a long pause and then he spoke in a low voice that skittered lazily down Maura’s backbone.
“Because I wanted to see if you’d like to come over to the Golden Spur tomorrow. I’ve finally gotten a few of my good horses moved over here and I thought the two of us might take a ride. Maybe have a little picnic.”
It was a good thing Maura had sat on the edge of the armchair when she’d picked up the phone, otherwise she would probably be collapsing with shock.
“You’re inviting me on an outing?” she asked bluntly.
He chuckled. “Why not? I can’t think of anybody else I’d rather ask.”
What about asking no one and going on the ride alone, she silently asked. What about the guy who was so swamped with work he didn’t socialize? The guy who wasn’t that interested in women?
Her hands began to tremble ever so slightly and she gripped them tightly around each end of the telephone receiver in order to steady them.
“I don’t know, Quint. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a horse.”
“More reason for you to accept my invitation. So you can get back in the saddle.”
The heat in her cheeks grew hotter and she was very relieved he couldn’t see her. “I thought you had lots of work to do,” she countered. “That’s what Abe is always telling me.”
“He’s right. My kind of work never gets caught up. But tomorrow is Sunday. After church, I don’t work.”
She’d not expected him to be a man who kept the Sabbath. But then she didn’t really know everything there was to know about Abe’s grandson. Other than he was as sexy as all get-out and the perfect picture of walking, talking danger.
Releasing a long breath, she passed the tip of her tongue over her lips. The other night, after they’d walked on to the horse stables, he’d remained a perfect gentleman. She couldn’t believe the man was going to this much trouble just for a chance to kiss her again. Maybe he actually wanted her company? Liked her company? The idea thrilled her even more than the memory of their torrid kiss.
“Oh. Well, you make it sound like I shouldn’t refuse.”
“I’m not going to let you. Can you be here by twelve?”
If she went on this outing with Quint, what would Abe think? What would her own family think?
You’re a grown woman, Maura. This is nobody’s business but yours. And it’s high time you started acting like a woman instead of a fraidy cat.
Bolstered by that idea, she blurted, “Sure. I can be there by noon. What do I need to bring?”
“Nothing, except yourself. Just be sure to wear heavy jeans and cowboy boots. Just in case you get too close to a jumping cactus.”
She assured him that she’d be there at twelve and wearing appropriate riding gear, then they exchanged goodbyes. As Maura slipped the receiver back on its hook, she stared dazedly around the small kitchen, while a part of her wanted to dance and shout, laugh and run about the room like a wild thing that had just been let loose from a cage.
But she stopped herself short of expressing such exuberance. This wasn’t the first date she’d been asked on since her divorce with Gilbert, she grimly reminded herself. One of the main reasons she was here on Apache Wells was because Dr. Weston had made a daily habit of asking her to go out with him. So why had she continually turned him down and jumped at the first chance she’d gotten to be with Quint?
Because when Dr. Weston had looked at her, talked to her, the only thing Maura had felt was annoyance. There’d been no sudden pounding of her heart or normally even breaths dissolving into soft little gasps. No heat firing her blood, urging her to touch, to move closer and even closer still.
Had she gone crazy? She’d run from Dr. Weston as though he was the devil incarnate and straight to Quint Cantrell. A man that made the good doctor seem as hazardous as downing a bowl of vanilla pudding.
The next morning, Quint slapped pieces of meat between slices of white bread sopped with mayonnaise, then covered them in plastic wrap and shoved them in a worn saddlebag. For dessert, he smeared peanut butter and jelly on wheat bread, wrapped the lot up and added them to the meat sandwiches. In the opposite saddlebag, he packed cans of beer and soda, then felt enormously proud of himself for remembering to add napkins.
He supposed he should have driven into town and purchased something special for the picnic meal. Like fried chicken and chocolate cake. But he was miles from town. And anyway, he didn’t want to buy Maura’s friendship. He wanted her to like him just for himself. Not because he was rich. Or young. Or good-looking. The last of which he’d never thought of himself, until she’d said such a thing to him the other night.
