Don't Cry for Me (10 page)

“Quinn, help me inside.”

“Your leg?”

She nodded.

He picked her up and carried her into the house.

“So much for not making a scene,” she said.

“You scared the hell out of me today, so just shut up and humor me.”

The baby was asleep on her makeshift pallet on the living room floor. Mariah couldn’t remember ever being secure enough in her world to have fallen asleep so quickly and soundly. She stretched out with a weary sigh as Quinn laid her on her bed, then pushed a couple of pillows under her leg to elevate it.

Wearily she closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

He wanted to stay with her, but when she rolled over, turning her back to him, he took it as a dismissal.

“Back in a few,” he said, and rejoined the crowd outside only to find his mother and Jake head to head in conversation, and Ryal and the Doolen brothers on their way out to look at the bear. He ran down the steps to join them.

Ryal pointed at the animal’s hip. “Look at that. I think it’s the broken shaft of an arrow. And that smell… Damn, that’s gangrene, isn’t it?”

Quinn nodded. “Every bit of this happened because someone was hunting out of season, and in the national reserve at that. That jackass got a man killed and another one mauled, not to mention the misery the animal was in or the number of animals it killed along the way.”

“Daddy said the rangers were bringing a wagon to haul the carcass away,” Avery said. “Why would they want it?”

“For starters, it killed someone on federal land, and there always have to be answers when the government is involved. I imagine they’ll be interested to dig out this arrow, for sure,” Quinn said.

Ryal glanced toward the road. “Speaking of rangers, here they come with a truck and a trailer, along with your Jeep.”

A short while later the rangers had loaded the bear’s carcass onto the trailer with a winch, returned Quinn’s car keys and driven away, one bear to the good.

Jake and his sons had gone with them, needing a ride back to where they’d left their trucks. Quinn wasn’t sorry to see everyone go. He’d had more visitors at this place today than he’d had in the past year and a half, and his patience for all of them was gone. He wanted to check on Mariah. He needed peace and quiet and his family, and nothing more.

* * *

“Is there any more of that apricot cobbler you said Mom brought?” Ryal asked, as he poked through the refrigerator.

Beth frowned. “For goodness’ sakes, Ryal, this is Quinn’s house. You can’t come here and eat everything like you do at Dolly’s.”

“Why?”

Dolly pushed her son out of the way and closed the refrigerator door.

“For starters, because Mariah’s here and she isn’t up to cooking, so you have to leave the leftovers alone.”

Ryal had the grace to be embarrassed. “Oh. Yeah. Right. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Quinn asked, as he walked in the back door, patting the very subdued puppy lying on a mat against the wall with his tail tucked between his legs.

Ryal grinned. “You don’t want to know.” He quickly changed the subject. “Are they gone?”

Quinn nodded as he washed his hands at the sink. “Are you guys hungry? Except for an energy bar, I haven’t eaten since morning, and I’m starved. I think there’s some apricot cobbler left.”

Ryal turned to the women. “If it’s offered,
then
can I eat it?”

Beth rolled her eyes.

Dolly sighed. “I’ll get bowls.”

“I’m gonna check on Mariah,” Quinn said, and pointed at Ryal. “Save some for us, too.”

“I will, I will. I’m not a complete pig,” he muttered.

“That title falls to James, right?” Quinn said.

Ryal grinned. “For sure. James is the true garbage disposal of the family.”

Quinn was still smiling as he walked past the baby on the pallet to the darkened end of the living room, where Mariah lay sleeping with a pillow clutched against her chest. Just as he started to walk away, he realized her shoulders were shaking.

Oh, shit. She’s crying.

He sat down on the side of the mattress and laid a hand on her hip.

“Hey, you,” he said softly.

“Go away,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“I don’t want them to know I’m awake.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m crying, that’s why. I’ve made an ass of myself enough for one day, don’t you think?”

“Really? You save Beth’s life, and you call that making an ass of yourself?”

She rolled over. With her eyes red and swollen, her vulnerability was showing.

“Yes, I did that—and then proceeded to freak out and scare them all to death.”

“They weren’t afraid
of
you. They were afraid
for
you. They didn’t know what to do, Mariah. Truth be told, when it happens to me, I don’t know what to do, either, because so far nothing has actually worked.”

“Oh, my God,” she muttered. “How do you live with it?”

He shrugged. “This is how I look at it, honey. We came home breathing. The others came home in flag-draped coffins. Do you want to die?”

“No, I don’t want to die. What a stupid question.”

Her anger was encouraging. He wasn’t going to admit that he’d had a few moments when he’d had a different opinion, but fortunately the thought had passed before he could act on it.

“Then are you going to just lie there and let Ryal eat all the leftover cobbler?”

She sat up with a sigh, smoothed down her hair and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands.

“I guess not.”

“Then go wash your face and come to the table with us. I’ll even let you sit in my lap.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Only if you want me to be kidding.”

Her eyes narrowed even more, irked that he was still able to get under her skin.

“I want you to be kidding.”

“Then your wish is my command.”

“Whatever, Prince Charming. You need to move so I can get up.”

He stood, then offered his hand.

She took it without hesitation, thankful for the lift.

Her leg was stiff, but she held on to his arm until it loosened before hobbling through the kitchen to the bathroom.

“We saved you some cobbler,” Beth said.

Mariah managed a smile. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Mariah was out of sight, Beth turned on Quinn, her voice low and anxious.

“She’s been crying. Did we do something wrong?”

He shook his head. “She’s just overwhelmed and embarrassed, I think.”

Dolly sighed. “Poor girl. She’s had her share of hard knocks.”

Ryal was quiet, leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. When Mariah came back, he handed her a spoon and a bowl of cobbler.

“Does that look good to you?” he asked.

Not sure what he meant, Mariah looked at the cobbler, then nodded.

“It does to me, too, but not for the reasons you might think.” He took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, but he wasn’t entirely successful, because when he spoke his voice was shaking. “Thanks to you, I’m here mooching my brother’s food and not at Mount Sterling looking for an undertaker.”

Mariah’s eyes widened, but Ryal wasn’t through.

“I can’t change what you went through in Afghanistan, and I am as sorry as I can be that you’re still suffering. But as far as I’m concerned, you are one hundred percent, A-one perfect on every level that matters, and I’ll take out the first person who says otherwise.” Then he pointed at the cobbler she was holding. “Want ice cream with that?”

Her eyes welled again, but this time not from shame. She nodded.

He plopped a scoop of ice cream into her bowl and then proceeded to put two scoops on his own before putting the carton back in the freezer.

“Sit by me,” Dolly said, patting the empty chair beside her.

Mariah sat, then took a big bite. The crust was flaky, the fruit filling perfectly sweet, and the ice cream put it over the top.

“This is so good,” she said.

Dolly beamed. “I can teach you, if you’re interested.”

Mariah rolled her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

Quinn sighed. God bless his family for always being there. He took a big bite, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. This was his favorite dessert.

He was quietly cleaning the bowl when his phone began to ring. He took another bite before answering, hoping to God it wasn’t another emergency. He wanted to be done with lost hikers and crazy animals for at least the rest of the day. Then he saw the Caller ID and knew he was in for another inquisition.

“Hey, James, what took you so long?” he asked.

James was pissed and scared all at the same time. “What the hell has been going on? I just got a call from one of my neighbors—who, by the way, should not know more about my family than I do—saying that killer bear everyone’s been tracking showed up at your place and went after Beth. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Quinn! Why didn’t someone call me? They said you shot it. Is it really dead?”

“It’s dead, but I didn’t kill it. Mariah did.”

James inhaled sharply. “The friend you brought home from the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” There was a long silence, and then he added, “Is she okay?”

For the second time in five minutes, Quinn realized how much he loved his family. They honest-to-God got what was happening to him and Mariah, and understood what gunfire could do to a soldier with PTSD.

“She will be.”

“When do I get to meet this wonder woman?”

“I guess when you next head this way.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

Quinn eyed Mariah’s pallor. “Yes. What about Sunday, after church? I’ll grill hamburgers for you guys if you’ll bring some stuff to go with them.”

“It’s a deal. Can she handle being around the kids?”

“I think we can manage. See you then,” he said, and hung up. Then he glanced at Mariah. “That was my other brother, James. He just invited himself and his family to Sunday dinner. Do you think you’re up to a little chaos? They won’t stay long. They have a couple of kids, one of them still young enough to need an afternoon nap.”

“As long as I don’t have to feed them,” Mariah muttered, and then shrugged as everyone laughed at her. “I open cans. I microwave. I eat takeout.”

“I’ll grill the burgers,” Quinn promised. “They’ll bring whatever they want. Don’t sweat it, okay?”

She nodded and took another bite of cobbler.

Ryal dropped his spoon in his bowl, well aware that it clattered. When everyone looked up, he was frowning.

“So we’re not invited to the party?”

Mariah stopped chewing, thinking he was seriously upset. She looked to Quinn, wondering what he would say.

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to overwhelm Mariah with a crowd.”

Ryal turned to her. “We’re not a crowd, are we, girl? You wouldn’t care if we came, too, would you? Look how good
our
baby is. She’s quiet as a little mouse.”

Mariah blanched. She had no idea what to say.

Dolly frowned. “Oh, for the love of God, stop it right now, Ryal. She thinks you’re serious.”

Beth laughed. “He
is
serious, Dolly. Can’t you see that he’s drooling?”

Once Mariah knew it was a joke, she relaxed. “You guys are nuts,” she said, scraping her bowl for the last bite.

Beth nodded. “Yes, they are, but they’re lovable nuts. On a serious note, honey, if this all sounds overwhelming, it can happen another time.”

Mariah shook her head. “No, it isn’t overwhelming at all. I’m not breakable. Just a little frayed.”

Dolly smiled. “I’ll bring potato salad, and fresh-baked cookies for dessert.”

“We’ll bring paper plates and cups, extra ice and the buns,” Beth offered.

“I guess I’ll sit around and look pretty,” Mariah said.

Quinn grinned. That was the last thing Mariah Conrad would be thinking of doing, which made it even funnier. She was the least prissy woman he’d ever met, and that was one of the reasons she was so intriguing.

* * *

After cleaning up the kitchen, his family left, which gave Quinn a chance to focus on what was next. After that race through the woods, he wanted a shower and clean clothes.

As soon as he went up to the loft, Mariah went back out to the deck. If she was going to be able to stay here, she needed to come to terms with what had happened. She couldn’t let a fear of the unknown take root and grow into something she couldn’t handle.

Ryal had hosed the blood off the deck, but the planks were still damp. Unsure whether it was slippery, she eased herself carefully toward the railing to look across the meadow to the trees beyond. Before they’d seemed appealing, but now they felt threatening—a harbor for creatures she didn’t understand. She’d grown up on the streets and could handle herself in almost any urban situation. She’d fought alongside the toughest soldiers without feeling incompetent, but here on this mountain she was no better than a baby—unaware of where danger might lie.