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

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СКАЧАТЬ That doesn’t sound like you.”

      Tess made a face. “You know I hate that nickname.”

      Her mother touched her arm, leaving a little spot of dirt on her work shirt. “I know you do, dear. And I’ll be honest, as a mother who is nothing but proud of the woman you’ve become and what you have done with your life, it’s a bit refreshing to find out you’re subject to the occasional human folly just like the rest of us.”

      Everyone in town saw her as some kind of martyr for staying with Scott all those years, but they didn’t know the real her. The woman who had indulged in bouts of self-pity, who had cried out her fear and frustration, who had felt trapped in a marriage that never even had a chance to start.

      She had stayed with Scott because she loved him and because he needed her, not because she was some saintly, perfect, flawless angel.

      No one knew her. Not her mother or her friends or the morning crowd at The Gulch.

      She didn’t like to think that Quinn Southerland might just have the most honest perspective around of the real Tess Jamison Claybourne.

      * * *

      THAT EVENING, TESS kept her fingers crossed the entire drive to Winder Ranch, praying she wouldn’t encounter him.

      She had fretted about him all day, worrying what she might say when she saw him again. She considered it a huge advantage, at least in this case, that she worked the graveyard shift. Most of her visits were in the dead of night, when Quinn by rights should be sleeping. She would have a much better chance of avoiding him than if she stopped by during daylight hours.

      The greatest risk she faced of bumping into him was probably now at the start of her shift than, say, 4:00 a.m.

      Wouldn’t it be lovely if he were away from the ranch or busy helping Easton with something or tied up with some kind of conference call to Seattle?

      She could only dream, she supposed. More than likely, he would be right there waiting for her, ready to impale her with that suspicious, bad-tempered glare the moment she stepped out of the car.

      She let out a breath as she turned onto the long Winder Ranch access drive and headed up toward the house. She could at least be calm and collected, even if he tried to goad her or made any derogatory comments. He certainly didn’t need to discover he possessed such power to upset her.

      He wasn’t waiting for her on the porch, but it was a near thing. The instant she rang the doorbell of Winder Ranch, the door jerked open and Quinn stood inside looking frazzled, his dark hair disheveled slightly, his navy blue twill shirt untucked, a hint of afternoon shadow on his cheeks.

      He looked a little disreputable and entirely yummy.

      “It’s about time!” he exclaimed, an odd note of relief in his voice. “I’ve been watching for you for the past half hour.”

      “You...have?”

      She almost looked behind her to see if someone a little more sure of a welcome had wandered in behind her.

      “I thought you were supposed to be here at eight.”

      She checked her watch and saw it was only eight-thirty. “I made another stop first. What’s wrong?”

      He raked a hand through his hair, messing it further. “I don’t know the hell I’m supposed to do. Easton had to run to Idaho Falls to meet with the ranch accountant. She was supposed to be back an hour ago but she just called and said she’d been delayed and won’t be back for another couple of hours.”

      “What’s going on? Is Jo having another of her breathing episodes? Or is it the coughing?”

      Tess hurried out of her jacket and started to rush toward her patient’s room but Quinn grabbed her arm at the elbow.

      Despite her worry for Jo, heat scorched her nerve endings at the contact, at the feel of his warm hand against her skin.

      “She’s not there. She’s in the kitchen.”

      At her alarmed look, he shook his head. “It’s none of those things. She’s fine, physically, anyway. But she won’t listen to reason. I never realized the woman could be so blasted stubborn.”

      “A trait she obviously does not share with anyone else here,” she murmured.

      He gave her a dark look. “She’s being completely ridiculous. She suddenly has this harebrained idea. Absolute insanity. She wants to go out for a moonlight ride on one of the horses and it’s suddenly all she can talk about.”

      She stared, nonplussed. “A horseback ride?”

      “Yeah. Do you think the cancer has affected her rational thinking? I mean, what’s gotten into her? It’s after eight, for heaven’s sake.”

      “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 СКАЧАТЬ