A Hero of Her Own

“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 give you a gift that cost you a ton of money,” he replied. “And along with the gift comes free veterinary services for the life of that guy. Consider it my donation to Hopechest Ranch.”

She started to protest once again at the generosity of the gift, but then changed her mind and smiled. “Thank you.”

Together they walked out of the door. She headed for one of the three garages as he went out to his truck. The first garage was the playroom for the kids. The second was where she parked her car and the third was currently empty. It was to the empty one that she led the puppy.

As she waited for Quinn she crouched down and stroked the puppy’s back. “We’ll let the kids give you a name,” she said. He gazed at her with big, brown, adoring eyes.

Her heart expanded with warmth. Quinn had brought her a dog to walk in the woods. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her. He thought she could use a companion.

Had he sensed the deep, abiding loneliness that had been her constant companion for the last couple of years? A loneliness that never went away, no matter how many people surrounded her, no matter how the children filled her days and nights.

She stood as he approached with two big sacks of dog food over his shoulder. Although he was tall and lean, he had broad, strong shoulders that easily managed the heavy bags.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said. As he drew closer, a new spark of electricity swept through her.

“I figured maybe if you’re grateful enough you might invite me in for a cup of coffee.” He set the bags on the garage floor.

“I think maybe we can work something out,” she replied. She told herself that the crazy buzz she felt at the very idea of spending some time with him was nothing more than the pleasure of having somebody fill these hours of darkness before she finally called it a night.

It took him only minutes to unload all the items from his truck. She got the pooch settled for the night, then Quinn followed her inside and to the kitchen.

The kitchen was one of the largest rooms in the house, but as Quinn took a seat at the long wooden table, she felt as if the room shrank. He possessed a simmering energy beneath his calm, cool exterior, an energy that seemed to shimmer in the air around him.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” he asked as she made the coffee. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I got to your front door.”

“It’s not a problem,” she assured him. “I normally don’t go to bed too early.” It was only when she turned away from him to check on the coffee that she remembered what had happened the night before—their encounter in the woods and the lie he’d told her about what he’d been doing there.

Quinn wasn’t sure what happened, but one minute her brown eyes were warm and inviting and the next minute they chilled and held a new wariness.

“You lied to me last night,” she said. “You told me that you had been over at Clay’s because he had a horse down, but I asked him about it and he said all his stock was healthy.”

So that’s what had caused the change in her expression. She’d obviously just remembered what he’d told her the night before.

“Yeah, I lied,” he admitted. “It was a stupid thing to do. I was embarrassed that I’d bumped into you, embarrassed to tell you the truth.”

She remained standing by the counter next to the coffeepot. The coffee was finished brewing but she made no move to get cups. He had a feeling that she was waiting for his explanation and if she didn’t like it, then the offer of coffee would be rescinded.

And he didn’t want that. It had taken him all evening to work up the nerve to come here. In fact, it had taken him months to work up his nerve to be here. He wanted to have coffee with her. He wanted to know more about her.

“And what, exactly, is the truth?” she asked, the coolness in her voice strong enough to frost his face.

“I don’t sleep well, haven’t for years. On the nights when I know I won’t be able to sleep I go to Clay’s and spend time with my horse, Noches. I board him there and right now he’s my favorite nighttime companion.”

She searched his face, as if on his features she’d discover if he was telling her the truth or not. “Jewel, why else would I be out in the woods in the middle of the night?” he asked.

She turned her back on him to reach for two cups in the overhead cabinet, but not before he saw a flash of emotion in her eyes, an emotion that looked something like fear. “You should have just told me that last night,” she replied. She poured the coffee then joined him at the table.