A Dream of His Own. Gail Gaymer Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ nameless. “Ava Darnell.” As she spoke, she dug into her bag and pulled her driver’s license from her wallet, then slid it on the counter.

       He glanced at it. “Phone number?”

       She eyed Quinn, but he was looking at her license. She wanted to cover it with her hand. “You won’t need my number. We’re going to wait.”

       “You’re welcome to wait.” He tilted his head, his pencil poised. “But I still need your phone number.”

       She drew up her shoulders and gave him her number.

       He pulled out another form and jotted Quinn’s name at the top. She couldn’t read the last name, and Quinn spieled off his telephone number. The area code was local, but she expected that.

       “I know you have insurance, Quinn.” He turned to her. “How about you, Ms. Darnell?

       She reached for her wallet again. “I have insurance.” Her stomach churned knowing she’d still have a deductible. Where would she get the money?

       “No.” Quinn’s voice startled her.

       Randy scowled, his eyes shifting from her to Quinn. “Which is it?”

       “I have insurance.” She delved into her bag.

       “The accident was my fault.”

       Quinn’s admission stopped her cold. “You admit it?”

       Quinn ignored her and looked at Randy. “I’d prefer to pay for whatever she needs. Pretend she doesn’t have insurance.”

       His meddling heightened her irritation. She attempted to save money, but she wasn’t a pauper if that’s what he thought. “Please, I have—”

       His eyes captured hers. “I know, but allow me to do this.”

       Addled, she slipped the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and studied him.

       Randy dropped the pencil on the counter. “Whatever you say.” He pointed to the garage. “I have a job to finish. It’ll take another twenty minutes or so. You can wait here if you want. I’ll get to your cars as soon as I can.” He motioned to the chairs in the waiting area.

       Ava strode across the room, sank into a seat and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Quinn stood beside her. She scrutinized him a moment. “What’s wrong with you?”

       He drew back, his eyes widening. “What?” He shook his head and looked away. “I’m trying to be conscientious.”

       “I have insurance.”

       He sank beside her. “And a deductible.” His head lowered as if he were looking for a further response on the floor.

       Though the deductible was correct, Ava still didn’t understand his determination to pay. “I have a job.” The income wasn’t great, but it was a job. “I don’t need charity.”

       He lifted his head, his expression darkened by her judgment. “I know you aren’t looking for a handout, and I’m sorry it came across the wrong way.”

       Her teeth clamped over the inside of her bottom lip, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I—” She straightened her shoulders. “We haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Ava Darnell.” She extended her hand as much for goodwill as for her introduction.

       Quinn peered at it a second before grasping it. “Quinn O’Neill.”

       Definitely Irish. She gave his hand a firm shake. “Let’s hear the estimate before you make offers, okay?”

       Though his eyes darkened, he nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed to find the floor interesting.

       She settled into silence, trying to understand this man. His offer to pay for her repairs seemed odd, but it took all kinds of people to make up the world. Maybe he was a staunch Christian compelled to show kindness or generosity. Whatever it was, she hoped he wasn’t a scam artist. She flinched, realizing her attitude stemmed from her late husband Tom’s financial problems. She had to be more trusting. He said he knew Lexie and Ethan. Still, being a single woman always put the fear of being ripped off in the forefront of her mind.

      * * *

       Quinn watched Ava in his peripheral vision. Her determination to resist his help drove him crazy. On the other hand, he admired her, too—her pride and her self-assurance. He couldn’t help but notice how she’d charged from her car after she’d parked outside. She walked with a decisive manner, her head high and her solid frame giving her an air of knowing what she was doing.

       Lydia had a way of carrying herself that showed her confidence and her receptiveness. That’s what had attracted him when he met her. She’d made a perfect wife for him, the owner of a prestigious business. She knew how to plan excellent dinner parties and how to add elegance to even the simplest event. He couldn’t imagine meeting another woman like Lydia, and yet today those attributes weren’t as important as they had been. After her death, he’d readjusted his priorities. His old life had been self-centered, more driven to earn status and wealth. Now other things were more important.

       When Ava shifted in the chair, her knee bumped his. He lifted his gaze to her face, aware she had something on her mind.

       “It’s difficult being a single parent.”

       One of his questions had been answered. She was single as he suspected. “How old is your son?”

       “He turned fifteen a few weeks ago.”

       His lungs drained of air. His son had been fifteen when he died—full of life, strong and ready to tackle the world and often his father. The trait had grinded Quinn, and his own determination grew to show Sean who was boss. He’d done it the day Sean and Lydia died in the horrendous car crash when a drunk driver hit them head-on.

       The day burst into his mind. Tired of jumping to Sean’s every whim, he’d said no to his nagging about taking him out to practice driving. The new learner’s permit burned in Sean’s hand. Despite his son’s insistence, he’d refused, but Lydia determined if he wouldn’t take Sean for a driving lesson, she would. He didn’t stop her. The old ache knifed his chest. If he’d given in and gone with Sean that day, the accident may have been avoided. He would have been quicker to grab the wheel than Lydia. She rarely drove.

       His lawyer insisted on suing, and they’d won, but the money meant nothing to him. It couldn’t buy back his wife and son. It couldn’t fill his empty heart. It couldn’t replace everything that was precious. That’s when he realized that his business, his wealth, his success meant nothing at all. He’d cursed God. A God who promised to be faithful. A God who assured His children He heard their prayers. For so long those empty promises controlled his life. But time healed even the deepest wound, and he’d made restitution with the Lord, clawing his way up from darkness into the light of faith. He would never have survived without it.

       Quinn’s thoughts cleared, and he noticed Ava looking at him. How long had he been silent? “Fifteen. They can be difficult at that age.”

       She studied him a moment as if curious about his silence. “You must have experience with teens.”

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