A Dream of His Own. Gail Martin Gaymer

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СКАЧАТЬ His heart rate escalated as her smile lines deepened. “You’ll fix it?” Grateful for the new topic, his mind wrapped around a dimple flickering in her cheek. He tried to picture her repairing the leak. His only involvement in repairing a faucet had consisted of paying the plumber.

       Her brows lifted. “I read articles on how to do plumbing repairs on the internet. It’s not hard, and it saves money.”

       Hearing her reference awakened his regret. He had more money than he needed. She had to tighten her finances while dealing with a seriously ill son. Her courage amazed him.

       Quinn studied her profile, his gaze lingering on her ear decorated with a small jeweled earring, the stone the color of a leaf budding in spring. She wore her hair short but with a slight wave curving at her neck. On the left side, she tucked the strands behind her ear.

       As his thoughts sank in, Quinn cringed and glanced away. He needed to get a grip. Why would he feel so much concern for a woman he’d only met an hour ago? His emotional reaction irritated him. Yet unable to control his thoughts, he let his gaze drift back to Ava. Proud, strong and capable seemed a good description. A grin played on his lips. He could never picture Lydia shopping at a hardware store and fixing a faucet.

       Her eyebrow arched as if she’d noticed his half grin. “You think women can’t do plumbing?”

       He was the one who couldn’t. “No. I think some women can do anything they set their mind to.”

       “You have more faith in me than I have, but I’m going to do my best.”

       His stomach churned as he witnessed her brave admission. “I’m only a novice, but could I help?”

       Her head jerked upward with question.

       “Maybe I could give you a hand…that is, if you run into problems.” Air streamed from his lungs as he faced the dumbest suggestion he’d ever made. What did he know about plumbing? He shrank into a chair. “I’ll give you my phone number, and you can give me a call.” And he could contact a plumber. His shoulders relaxed.

       “Thanks. You’re too kind.”

       “Ms. Darnell?”

       Quinn’s attention shot to the doorway.

       Randy strode forward. “I’ll need your car keys.”

       She grasped her handbag and dug out a small ring of keys. “Here you are.”

       When she dropped them into his hand, Randy turned to him. “I might as well take yours, too.”

       Quinn pulled the keys from his pocket, and Randy vanished through the garage doorway with the sets of keys as Quinn sank back into the chair wishing he had a magazine or anything that would stop him from offering to do plumbing and feeling his pulse skip each time Ava looked at him. He stretched his legs in front of him, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. Maybe if he concentrated he could get a grip on his wayward emotions. Sean and the accident surged in his mind and was only distracted by the image of the attractive woman beside him, saddled with too many problems.

       He remained silent, trying to ignore the waves of Ava’s presence. When she shifted in the chair, her arm brushed his and the hairs on his arms rose. His eyes jerked open. “Sorry about the long wait.”

       “It’s not your fault.” She shrugged. “I wish I’d brought in the magazine I picked up at the hardware store. It’s on home decor.”

       Quinn pictured the outside of his once lovely home that needed trim work, and the inside rooms as drab and colorless just as his life had been.

       “I love decorating. That would have been a great career for me.” The comment sounded as if she was speaking to herself.

       His mind ticked with ideas while his heart stretched beyond his belief. He was drawn to this woman in a strange and unexpected way—somewhere between esteem and curiosity. She was different and admirable.

       He opened his mouth to speak, but she’d sunk into thought again, and if he allowed it, he’d never learn more about her. “Why didn’t you pursue a career in home decorating?”

       She turned her head and looked out the window with a shrug. “I married young. My husband had a good job and preferred my staying home.”

       “So that ended your dream.”

       Her head swivelled toward him. “I put my energy into my home. I made it my own little showplace.”

       Pride rose on her face, and he realized she hadn’t appreciated his comment. “That’s a good use of talent.”

       Her expression changed. “Thank you, but then you haven’t seen my home.” Her tone softened. “It’s a little worse for wear without the income…the time to keep it up, but I do my best. Most things fall on my shoulders at home. I’m a widow. My husband died a few years ago—five years actually—when Brandon was ten.” She drifted away for a moment. “Coronary thrombosis right before my eyes. I asked him if he’d like a cup of coffee, and he said yes. Before I turned my back, he was gone.”

       Quinn’s lungs emptied. “That must have been awful.” He had forced the words from his throat. Sean’s and Lydia’s death had been as swift, but he hadn’t witnessed it. Two police officers had come to his door with the horrible news.

       “It was a shock.” Her voice infiltrated his thoughts. “Tom was young. Only thirty-four. He never knew about Brandon’s illness. He’d been gone two years before Bran was diagnosed.”

       Quinn shook his head. He was forty-five. He couldn’t imagine his life ending eleven years early. Sean slipped into his thoughts again. At fifteen his life had ended.

       They both sank into silence, and he pondered what to do to make life better for Ava.

       Randy reappeared and stepped to the counter. “Damage could have been worse.” He bent over the counter and wrote notes on the quote form he’d filled in earlier with their information.

       Ava rose first and grasped the form he handed her before Quinn could get a look at the quote. She gazed at it, her eyes losing their color. She pulled out her wallet and slid him her insurance information. “I’ll need to use my insurance.”

       Quinn shifted beside her. “I thought we were going to talk about it.”

       “No need to talk.” She folded the form and slipped it in her purse. “How long will it take to repair?”

       Randy glanced at the calendar and then through the garage door as if sizing up the jobs they had. “Maybe three days. Two if we’re lucky. If you want, you can bring it in Monday. But you’ll need to call your insurance company because they may want you to get another estimate.”

       Her head jerked toward Quinn and then back to Randy. “Why?”

       “It’s policy. And if you need a loaner car, I’ll call you when one’s available. I only have three.”

       Her downcast look constricted Quinn’s chest. “Give us a minute.” He linked his arm in Ava’s and pulled her across the room. “I accepted the blame for this, and I want to pay for the damage. Let me see the estimate.”

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