The Pines Of Winder Ranch: A Cold Creek Homecoming / A Cold Creek Reunion

“It’s a bit difficult to go on a moonlit ride in the middle of the afternoon,” she pointed out.

“Don’t you take her side!” He sounded frustrated and on edge and more than a little frazzled.

She hid her smile that the urbane, sophisticated executive could change so dramatically over one simple request. “I’m not taking anyone’s side. Why does she suddenly want to go tonight?”

“Her window faces east.”

That was all he said, as if everything was now crystal clear. “And?” she finally prompted.

“And she happened to see that huge full moon coming up an hour or so ago. She says it’s her favorite kind of night. She and Guff used to ride up to Windy Lake during the full moon whenever they could. It can be clear as day up in the mountains on full moons like this.”

“Windy Lake?”

“It’s above the ranch, about half a mile into the forest service land. Takes about forty minutes to ride there.”

“And Tess is determined to go?”

“She says she can’t miss the chance, since it’s her last harvest moon.”

The sudden bleakness in the silver-blue of his eyes tugged at her sympathy and she was astonished by the impulse to touch his arm and offer whatever small comfort she could.

She curled her fingers into a fist, knowing he wouldn’t welcome the gesture. Not from her.

“She’s not strong enough for that,” he went on. “I know she’s not. We were sitting out in the garden today and she lasted less than an hour before she had to lie down, and then she slept for the rest of the day. I can’t see any way in hell she has the strength to sit on a horse, even for ten minutes.”

Her job as a hospice nurse often required using a little creative problem-solving. Clients who were dying could have some very tricky wishes toward the end. But her philosophy was that if what they wanted was at all within reach, it was up to her and their family members to make it happen.

“What if you rode together on horseback?” she suggested. “You could help her. Support her weight, make sure she’s not overdoing.”

He stared at her as if she’d suddenly stepped into her old cheerleader skirt and started yelling, “We’ve got spirit, yes we do.”

“Tell me you’re not honestly thinking she could handle this!” he exclaimed. “It’s completely insane.”

“Not completely, Quinn. Not if she wants to do it. Jo is right. This is her last harvest moon and if she wants to enjoy it from Windy Lake, I think she ought to have that opportunity. It seems a small enough thing to give her.”

He opened his mouth to object, then closed it again. In his eyes, she saw worry and sorrow for the woman who had taken him in, given him a home, loved him.

“It might be good for her,” Tess said gently.

“And it might finish her off.” He said the words tightly, as if he didn’t want to let them out.

“That’s her choice, though, isn’t it?”

He took several deep breaths and she could see his struggle, something she faced often providing end-of-life care. On the one hand, he loved his foster mother and wanted to do everything he could to make her happy and comfortable and fulfill all her last wishes.

On the other, he wanted to protect her and keep her around as long as he could.

The effort to hold back her fierce urge to touch him, console him, almost overwhelmed her. She supposed she shouldn’t find it so surprising. She was a nurturer, which was why she went into nursing in the first place, long before she ever knew that Scott’s accident would test her caregiving skills and instincts to the limit.

“You don’t have to take her, though, especially if you don’t feel it’s the right thing for her. I’ll see if I can talk her out of it,” she offered. She took a step toward the kitchen, but his voice stopped her.

“Wait.”

She turned back to find him pinching the skin at the bridge of his nose.

“You’re right,” he said after a long moment, dropping his hand. “It’s her choice. She’s a grown woman, not a child. I can’t treat her like one, even if I do want to protect her from...the inevitable. If she wants this, I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

The determination in his voice arrowed right to her heart and she smiled. “You’re a good son, Quinn. You’re just what Jo needs right now.”

“You’re coming with us, to make sure she’s not overdoing things.”

“Me?”

“The only way I can agree to this insanity is if we have a medical expert close at hand, just in case.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Can’t your other patients spare you?”

That would have been a convenient excuse, but unfortunately in this case, she faced a slow night, with only Tess and two other patients, one who only required one quick check in the night, several hours away.

“That’s not the issue,” she admitted.

“What is it, then? Don’t you think she would be better off to have a nurse along?”

“Maybe. Probably. But not necessarily this particular nurse.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not really much of a rider,” she confessed, with the same sense of shame as if she were admitting stealing heart medicine from little old ladies. Around Pine Gulch, she supposed the two crimes were roughly parallel in magnitude.

“Really?”

“My family lived in town and we never had horses,” she said, despising the defensive note in her voice. “I haven’t had a lot of experience.”

She didn’t add that she had an irrational fear of them after being bucked off at a cousin’s house when she was seven, then later that summer she had seen a cowboy badly injured in a fall at an Independence Day rodeo. Since then, she had done her best to avoid equines whenever possible.

“This is a pretty easy trail that takes less than an hour. You should be okay, don’t you think?”

How could she possibly tell him she was terrified, especially after she had worked to persuade him it would be all right for Jo? She couldn’t, she decided. Better to take one for the team, for Jo’s sake.

“Fine. You saddle the horses and I’ll get Jo ready.”

Heaven help them all.

CHAPTER SIX (#ufa68ccb0-1880-5e5c-83a9-0b8e1ae01159)

“LET ME KNOW if you need me to slow down,” Quinn said half an hour later to the frail woman who sat in front of him astride one of the biggest horses in the pasture, a rawboned roan gelding named Russ.