The Mighty Quinns: Dermot-Dex. Kate Hoffmann

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style="font-size:15px;">      “So, I guess we have some free time,” Rachel said. “What are we going to do with ourselves?”

      He draped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s take a walk.”

      “Where?”

      “I don’t know. Let’s just see where we end up.”

      She slipped her arm around him and they walked past the barnyard and then turned north, toward her favorite spot on the creek.

      “I think they’re doing all right,” Rachel said. “What do you think?”

      “I think you’re worrying far too much.”

      “This is a lot of responsibility,” Rachel explained. “I’m the adult in charge. What if something goes wrong? What if they… do something bad?”

      “Just what would you consider bad?” Dermot asked. “I’m very interested to hear this.”

      “I don’t know. What if they get an F at school? Or they get in a fight? Or they swear at a teacher? There are a million things that could go wrong. God, being a parent must be sheer hell. No wonder my sister looked like such a wreck.”

      “It can’t be that bad,” Dermot said. “Most people seem to come through it without major problems.”

      “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mother. There’s just too much that could go wrong. I’d be a bundle of nerves.”

      He dragged her into his arms and gave her a hug. “Rachel, you would be a fabulous mother.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because you’re kind and compassionate and loving. A child would be lucky to have you for a mother.”

      She pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Have you ever thought about having children?”

      “No, not really. Not until this afternoon. I was talking to Trevor and I was thinking, maybe I could do this. I think I’d have a lot to teach a kid.”

      “I guess it wouldn’t be that much different than goats,” Rachel said.

      Dermot couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?”

      “You know what I mean. Goats can be very mischievous. And they never listen to what you say. And when they get sick they can’t tell you what’s wrong with them, you’re just left guessing. And you spend a lot of time cleaning up after them.”

      “Goats are exactly like children,” Dermot teased. “And husbands are exactly like donkeys and wives are exactly like chickens.”

      “You have that right,” Rachel said with a nod. She set off across the field.

      Dermot caught up to her and grabbed her hand. “So that’s your opinion of marriage?”

      “I have no opinion of marriage,” Rachel said. “I think it can be harmful to develop an opinion of marriage before you’ve actually had a proposal. If that ever happens, then I figure I’ll decide what I think.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Do you have an opinion you’d like to share?”

      Dermot frowned. Considering her opinion, or nonopinion, maybe it was best that he kept his to himself. “No,” he said. “I haven’t thought much about it.”

      “It’s a big risk,” she said. “A leap of faith. I mean, my parents were married for forty-five years. How did they know that they weren’t going to get bored with each other after ten or fifteen years. I buy a sofa that I love one day, and two months later, I think it’s the ugliest sofa on the planet.”

      “Now men are no longer donkeys, they’re sofas?”

      “I’m just throwing out some analogies,” she said.

      “You’re lucky you’re such a good artist, because you suck at analogies,” Dermot said.

      Rachel giggled. “All right. Maybe I do. But the thought of mating for life is kind of scary. It’s a long, long time.”

      “Penguins mate for life,” he said. “I saw that on Nat. Geo.”

      “Eagles do, too. And geese. And swans.”

      They walked the rest of the way in silence, Dermot considering her comments. He’d never met someone he could imagine marrying, until now. In truth, he’d spent more time with Rachel than he had with any other woman in his life. Every day for almost six weeks. Almost every night, too. They were as close to married as he’d ever been and he hadn’t thought once about running.

      He raked his hand through his hair, stunned by the realization. In the past, he rarely continued a relationship after a few months. He grew bored and she grew clingy or they both were too busy to pursue anything further. But with Rachel, he’d stepped into her life one day and hadn’t thought about leaving.

      Five weeks together and he still looked forward to waking up with her beside him in the morning and falling asleep wrapped in her arms at night.

      They reached the creek and Rachel sat down on a grassy spot near the bank. It was the kind of perfect scene that he would remember for a lifetime, the sun gleaming off the wet rocks, milkweed seeds floating on the air, and a sky so blue it hurt to look at it. And then there was Rachel, her pale hair caught up in a haphazard knot and her face flushed from the heat.

      Dermot wandered to the edge of the water and picked up a wildflower from a clump on the creek bank. He’d grown so comfortable here on the farm and he tried to imagine Rachel in his environment. Could she ever feel the same way about Seattle?

      As much as he tried, he couldn’t seem to make the image jell in his mind. This was exactly where she belonged, in this place, on this farm. Dermot turned and looked at her, her gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon.

      He’d never expected these choices to be easy. But then, he’d never expected them to be excruciatingly painful either. Once he fell in love, he’d just assumed it would all work out exactly as he wanted. He had a week left on the farm before he’d head home. She’d stay here forever, as she was always meant to.

      There was only one thing he knew for certain. He’d have to learn to deal with the loss or spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been.

      THE TOWN OF LAKE GENEVA was the closest thing to a tourist trap that could be found in the county. Known for its quaint shops, pretty streets and gleaming lake, Rachel usually made the short drive every few months to treat herself to a haircut or manicure.

      Today she had Dermot, Trevor and Taylor for company. They’d stopped first at a discount store and picked up the list of school supplies she’d downloaded from the high school website, reassuring the boys that they would be ready when Monday rolled around.

      After that, they’d enjoyed a leisurely lunch at a local hamburger joint, the boys inhaling their meal between one-word answers to Dermot’s and Rachel’s questions. Though they were feeling more comfortable at the farm, taking them out of that environment made her nephews a bit uneasy. And any discussion of school sent them both into a silent funk.

      “Hey,

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