Quinn (9 page)

Micah merely laughed. “That’s springtime in Wyoming. If I’ve got to be stuck somewhere, it may as well be with wranglers who appreciate my cooking.”

Cheyenne’s head swiveled. “You don’t think I appreciate you?”

“Now, Cheyenne, honey, I never said that. But cooking for one’s not nearly the challenge as cooking for a dozen hungry cowboys. Whenever I get the chance to go up in the hills to cook for the ranch hands, I’m in hog heaven.”

She smiled. “I know. But I worry about you. Like Quinn said, there’s snow coming.”

He patted her shoulder, then turned away to stir
something simmering in a huge kettle. “Stop treating me like I’m some helpless old man and eat your breakfast.”

“Yes, sir.” She winked at Quinn across the table, and the two of them dug into the food.

When Micah returned the lid, Cheyenne breathed in the steam from the kettle. “You made your chili.”

“I wouldn’t dare show my face up in the hills without a pot of my chili. Those cowboys would have my hide.”

“I hope you plan on leaving some here for me.”

“Yes, ma’am. A big pot of it, so even if I get snowed in, you’ll have plenty of food until I get back.”

She touched a hand to her heart. “My hero.”

“And don’t you forget it.” He nibbled a sausage while he limped around the kitchen, wrapping loaves of freshly baked bread in plastic bags, filling giant containers with coffee, packing everything carefully on a wheeled cart that had been cleverly designed with shelves and drawers to keep from rolling around while being hauled in the back of a truck.

“You going to be okay alone here?” Micah glanced over at Cheyenne.

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

When he opened his mouth she held up a hand to stop him. “I said I’d be fine.”

“Uh-huh. And I told your daddy at his grave that I’d look out for you.”

“I know that. And you do. But you didn’t promise to be a nursemaid, holding my hand every minute of the day.”

“All the same, I wish this place wasn’t so far away from civilization.”

“Wishing won’t change things. Besides, maybe being isolated is a good thing.”

The old man paused in his work. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She merely smiled. “Being this far off the beaten track, it isn’t easy for someone to just happen to be passing through.”

Quinn looked up. “I did last night.”

“That’s different.” Annoyed, Cheyenne stabbed another pancake and smothered it in syrup.

“Different?” Quinn glanced from Cheyenne to Micah. “What’re we talking about here?”

“Nothing.” Cheyenne’s eyes narrowed on the old man, as though issuing a warning.

Micah shrugged. “I have a right to worry. I’ve known her since she was a runny-nosed kid.”

She huffed out a breath. “My nose never ran.”

“But your mouth did. Still does. You think you know it all, but you’ve still got a lot to learn. Who taught you to ride? To rope? To birth a calf?”

“You did.”

“That gives me the right to worry.”

She shoved back her chair and crossed the room to brush a kiss over his weathered cheek. “Yes, it does. And I appreciate it, Micah. Really I do. But I’ll be just fine here.”

“I know. Just don’t go taking any chances.” He stuck out his hand to Quinn. “Nice meeting you, wolf whisperer.”

“It was nice meeting you, too, Micah. Thanks for the fine food.”

“Any time.” After patting his pocket to assure that he had his pipe and tobacco, the old man headed toward the door, shoving the wheeled cart ahead of him, before pausing
to turn to Cheyenne. “If the weather holds, I could be back by sundown.”

“Wishful thinking.” She lifted a hand to wave him off before pouring another cup of coffee.

At the sound of the truck leaving Quinn carried his empty dishes to the sink, where he began to rinse them and set them in the dishwasher.

He glanced over. “Is there some reason why Micah is worried about leaving you alone?”

“Of course not.” She turned away, avoiding his eyes.

“Last night you suggested that I was someone’s bully. Would you care to explain?”

His question was met with complete silence.

He studied her for a moment before giving a slight nod of his head. “Well then, I’d better be leaving, too, and let you get to your chores.”

“Wait.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned a hip against the counter. “Sorry. You deserve an explanation. There was an… incident some time ago with a neighbor. I think it’s left me spooked.”

“You think you’re in danger?”

She shook her head. “Not really. But when I saw you in the barn holding that rifle, Deke was the only one I could think of.”

“That’s what you said. One of Deke’s bullies.”

“I guess he’s been on my mind. I hate the fact that a longtime friend and neighbor could let me down.”

Quinn shrugged. “People have a way of doing that.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She looked up. “Are you heading home to family?”

“Yeah.”

“A wife and kids?” She’d wanted to ask that sooner,
but there had never been a time that seemed right. Now, she realized, she was holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

“No wife. No kids. But I’ve got a father, grandfather, and two brothers.”

She let out a long, slow breath. “Tell me about them.”

He arched a brow, realizing that she was trying to draw out their good-bye. In a way it was flattering. He really would have enjoyed spending more time with her.

He leaned a hip against the counter. “Right about now my youngest brother, Jake, is taking his final exams at Michigan State University’s school of veterinary medicine.”

“He’s a vet?”

He nodded. “Or will be when he gets that piece of sheepskin that says it’s so. It’s perfect for Jake. He’s been doctoring the herd since he was a kid. Big Jim always says he’s assisted at more births than an obstetrician.”

“Big Jim?”

“My grandfather.”

Her tone was warm with sarcasm. “I guess it would be too easy to call him Grandpa like other kids.”

“Yeah.” Quinn chuckled. “He’s always been Big Jim. Always will be.”

Cheyenne laughed. “I think I’d like your grandfather and your little brother.”

“I know you would. Then there’s my father, who’s tougher than a grizzly, with a temper to match, and my brother Josh, who’s a rancher like the rest of us when he isn’t off rescuing missing hikers on the mountain.”

“That’s a pretty impressive family. And everybody lives together on your family ranch?”

“Yeah. Live together, eat together, fight together.” While he was talking he dried his hands on a kitchen towel and wondered at the fact that he was being so chatty. It wasn’t at all his style, but she’d asked and he’d sensed her need to keep him talking. “Now it’s time I let you get to your ranch chores.” He offered a handshake and a smile. “Thanks for the hospitality, Cheyenne. After the way I behaved last night, it was more than I deserved, but much appreciated.”

She returned the handshake and the smile. “My pleasure, Quinn Conway. I hope you find a new wolf to track.”

“I’m sure I will. In time.” He made his way to the utility room and pulled on his parka before snatching up his gear.

She followed him and slipped into her own parka. “I’ll walk you out. I’m heading to the barn.”

As they walked outside she studied his heavy gear. “You’ve got a lot of miles to haul that. If my wranglers weren’t up in the hills with all my trucks, I’d loan you one. But how about taking one of my horses?”

He arched a brow. “I’d be grateful. As long as you have one to spare.”

“More than one.” She crossed the distance from the house to the barn, with Quinn following.

Once inside she pointed to the various stalls. “You can take the spotted mare over there. Or the gray mustang.”

Quinn shrugged. “You choose.”

“The mustang.” She was laughing as she opened the stall and stepped inside. “He was tough as nails when we first caught and tamed him, but now he’s only skittish when it storms. I’ll just—”

The blow from the mustang’s hoof came out of
nowhere. One minute Cheyenne was reaching for the saddle blanket tossed over the rail. The next she was thrown against the rail with such force she could feel her world going black.

In that same instant Quinn dropped his gear and raced into the stall. Seeing the mustang’s eyes wild and terrified as he danced nervously around the tiny space, Quinn knew he had to get the horse out of there before Cheyenne was trampled.

In one quick movement Quinn scooped up the saddle blanket and covered her horse’s head before leading him into a nearby stall. Quinn hurried to kneel beside Cheyenne, who gave a low moan of pain.

“Lie still and I’ll see if anything’s broken.”

Her breath was coming hard and fast as she struggled to speak. “He’s never done anything like that before.”

“Shh.” Quinn took his time, checking for any breaks, but even though he found none, he could see the pain etched on her face. “I’m going to carry you back to the house. Think you can hold on?”

She nodded. “I think I can walk.”

At once Quinn had his arm around her, helping her to sit up before easing her to her feet.

She was moving slowly, her right arm gripped firmly around her left to keep it as still as possible. The slightest movement had her wincing and moaning.

Once inside the kitchen Quinn led her to a chair and unzipped her parka. “Let’s have a look at that arm.”

She was gritting her teeth as he removed the bulky coat. It was plain that even that slight movement caused her excruciating pain.

After a thorough examination he sat back on his heels.
“Not broken. But I’d lay money that you’ve dislocated your shoulder.”

She sucked in a breath. “I helped my dad treat my brother for that once. I think I’d rather have a break.”

“Yeah.” Quinn’s mind was working overtime.

They were too far from town to call a doctor. And since Quinn had had an intimate contact with a dislocation, he knew the pain she was suffering, and the even greater pain he would have to inflict on her in order to get that shoulder back into place.

“Got any whiskey?”

She nodded. “In the cupboard over the fridge.”

He crossed the room and located the bottle. Filling a tumbler to the top, he carried it to her and muttered, “Drink it. All of it. And then”—his voice lowered—“we’ll have to get on with it.”

Get on with it.

Cheyenne closed her eyes against the wave of pain, knowing there was more to come.

C
heyenne sipped the whiskey and made a face. “Ugh. I’ve never figured out how people can stand to drink this without something to soften the taste.”

“Don’t think of it as medicine. The trick is to just drink it down without tasting it.”

“Easy for you to say.” She took a big gulp and felt herself gag. Even the fumes of the whiskey made her stomach queasy.

Quinn saw the way she held the liquid in her mouth while she considered whether to drink it down or spit it in the glass. “Swallow it or you’ll be wearing it.”

Though she could feel herself gagging, she managed to swallow down the entire tumbler of whiskey.

When she lowered the glass she sniffed. “I smell like a brewery.”

“Trust me. In a couple of minutes, that’ll be the last thing you’ll be worried about.”

“Yeah.” She gritted her teeth, aware that her head was already swimming. “Okay. I’m ready, Doctor. Do what you have to.”

He was grateful that there was nothing small or frail about this woman. She was a rancher, whose body was toned and healthy from the million and one ranch chores she tended to each day. But from his own experience, Quinn knew that even in the best of health, the manipulation needed to treat a dislocation could cause the most unbearable pain.

“Maybe you ought to consider another glass of whiskey.”