One Tiny Miracle. Jennifer Greene

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      “Living alone! Gramps, you have men all around you. That’s hardly being alone.”

      “Is that what you tell yourself?” Abe countered with a question.

      Quint frowned, then heaved out a heavy breath. “Look, Gramps, I’m not the one complaining about being lonely. You are. My life is one big whirlwind right now. I don’t have time to be lonely. And frankly, neither do you. So spare me.”

      Abe scowled at him. “Spare you? I’d like to kick your ass.”

      Seeing he was getting nowhere, Quint took a different direction. “So how long do you plan on keeping this nurse?”

      Abe gave him a palms-up gesture. “‘Til I don’t need her, I suppose. ‘Course if I get over this dizzy problem, I’m hardly likely to run her off.”

      Quint suddenly decided he’d been all wrong about the old man. Abe was sick. With dementia or something like it. Had Maura already recognized Abe’s problem and saw it as a way to get her foot in the door? He hated to think the woman might be that calculating. She didn’t seem the sort, at all. But then, he’d spent four years believing that Holly Johnson was a true-blue innocent and look what that had gotten him. She’d run off with a rich real-estate mogul and Quint had become the laughingstock of Lincoln County.

      “Gramps, I want you to have a complete checkup. You need blood work, scans, the whole nine yards. You’re not yourself and we both know it.”

      Abe laughed gleefully. “I’m not acting like myself, am I? Just because I’m enjoying a little female company? I think any doc would say you’re the one who’s messed up.”

      “What about Granny?” Quint challenged him. “Doesn’t she matter anymore?”

      Abe’s expression suddenly softened and he patted Quint on the shoulder. “She ain’t here anymore, Quint. All I have is memories and photos. A man needs more and you ought to understand that.”

      Lord, did his grandfather have romantic intentions toward the nurse? “Gramps, did you hire her to be your nurse or something more personal?” Quint asked point-blank.

      Abe turned a completely innocent look on him. “Why, to be my nurse, of course. But if she so happens to stumble around and fall in love with me—well, I sure as heck ain’t gonna push her away. If you know what I mean.”

      Unfortunately, Quint knew all too well what his grandfather meant. He also knew that if he didn’t do something about this situation and soon, Abe was going to be hurt. In more ways than one.

      Gazing thoughtfully in the direction of the ranch house, Quint rubbed a hand against his jaw. “I think I’ll stay for supper,” he suddenly announced.

      Clearly skeptical, Abe asked, “Why? You thinkin’ you’re gonna hang around and horn in on your grandfather’s business?”

      Quint looked at him. “No. I’m thinking that soup she was making smelled mighty good.”

      He was also thinking that the moment he’d first walked into the kitchen, Maura Donovan had set off some sort of spark in him, a flash of heat that had taken Quint totally by surprise. Now he wanted to get closer to the woman, he decided. So close that he could see right into her pretty head. He could take a second look into her green eyes and found out for himself if that spark he’d felt had been real or imagined.

      Though he wasn’t too sure which direction he wanted the decision to land…

      Two days later, on the dirt drive that led to the Apache Wells ranch house, Maura was finishing the last of a two-mile jog. The early afternoon sun was hot. Sweat sheened her body and dampened her red tank top. The thought of languishing over a tall glass of iced tea pushed her forward, until the musical ring of her cell phone sounded in the pocket of her shorts.

      Pausing in the middle of the narrow road, she fished out the small instrument and was immediately surprised to see the caller was her mother. Now that the Donovan children were all grown and capable of running the Diamond D horse ranch without them, her parents, Fiona and Doyle Donovan, had become regular globe-trotters. Only two days ago they’d been in Ireland visiting relatives on both sides of their extensive families.

      “Hello, Mother!”

      “You’re out of breath,” Fiona observed. “What did you do, run to the phone?”

      “No. I’m out jogging,” Maura explained.

      “Oh. I can call back later.”

      Having five siblings meant that getting any exclusive, one-on-one attention from their mother was rare and precious. Just having her mother call so quickly after her return home made Maura feel special.

      “Nonsense. I can walk and talk for a while,” she assured the other woman. “It’s so good to hear your voice. When did you get home?”

      “Late last night. Your father and I are so jet-lagged we’re just getting around to having breakfast. Dallas was the only one still up when we arrived last night and this afternoon everyone seems to be out of pocket.”

      “Just because you and Dad live the life of luxury doesn’t mean your children can loll around in bed until midafternoon,” Maura teased as she started to the house.

      “Hmm. It’s good to hear that we’ve taught you children good work ethics. And speaking of work, Dallas tells me you’re still with Mr. Cantrell.”

      Before her parents had left for Ireland more than a month ago, Abe had not yet approached Maura about the job here at Apache Wells. But once she’d decided to take the old man’s offer, she’d called her parents in Ireland and told them about her decision. Neither had understood her choice to abruptly change jobs, but they’d hardly tried to deter her. At thirty-six, it had been years since her parents had tried to tell her what to do. And even if they did try, Maura was too stubborn and strong-minded not to take the path she chose for herself. Even if it might be the wrong path, she thought drily.

      “That’s right.”

      “So what are your duties? Does he keep you busy fetching and complaining?”

      Maura smiled to herself. “Not in the least. Right now Abe is out riding range with the rest of the ranch hands. I don’t expect him in until later this afternoon.”

      “Riding—” Fiona gasped. “I thought—if I remember correctly, Abe Cantrell is older than your father! And I thought he was ill and needed a nurse!”

      The smile on Maura’s full lips deepened even more. “Abe is eighty-four. And he’s as healthy as a horse. Except for when he gets vertigo. And thankfully that’s only happened once since I’ve been here.”

      There was a long pause and then Fiona said in a slow, pointed voice, “Maura, I may be butting in, but I’d like to know why you gave up a wonderful, good-paying job at the hospital for a man who only needs you occasionally?”

      “Abe needs me more than occasionally, Mother.”

      “You

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