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Branded with his Baby
Branded with his Baby
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Branded with his Baby

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His suggestion caught her by surprise and she dared to glance over her shoulder at him. “Do you really want to?”

He suddenly chuckled and Maura was amazed at how different he looked with humor softening his features.

“I don’t make offers unless I want to.”

Something about the husky tone of his voice, the warmth in his eyes, sent prickles of excitement racing through her. She could feel her cheeks growing warm and pink and she suddenly felt like a foolish teenager instead of a thirty-six-year-old woman who’d been married and divorced.

But just for this once, she wasn’t going to think about the dangers this man represented to her peace of mind. Tomorrow she would remind herself that she was behaving like an idiot. Today she was going to let herself enjoy the pleasure of being in the presence of a very sexy man.

“In that case,” she said, “I’d love to have a look around.”

Moving forward, he touched a hand to her back and Maura felt her senses splintering in all directions.

“Good,” he murmured. “Just let me get my hat and we’ll be on our way,” he told her.

Chapter Three

Once they stepped onto the porch, Quint dropped his hand from her back and Maura was finally able to draw in a normal breath. But as they moved into the yard, he immediately wrapped a hold around her upper arm.

“Let’s go to the barn first,” he suggested. “I need to let Jake, my ranch hand, know I’m okay.”

Nodding, she looked away from him and tried not to dwell on his warm, rough fingers pressing into her flesh.

The afternoon was all bright sunshine, while a soft west wind carried the scent of sagebrush and juniper. A lone aspen shaded one corner of the house, but that was the only bona fide tree that she could see for miles around. The rest of the vegetation growing beyond the ranch yard amounted to a few spindly pinyon pines, some twisted snags of juniper and a sea of jumping choya cactus and sagebrush. It was a stark, yet beautiful sight and Maura instinctively knew it would be even more so in the late evening when the sun fell from the sky and twilight purpled the nearby mountains.

“How many men do you have working for you?” she asked.

Now that they were walking abreast, he dropped his hold on her arm and Maura didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Either way, just being this near him left her shaky and nothing like the practical, no-nonsense nurse that had dealt calmly with all sorts of men. She kept remembering the way he’d looked without his shirt and how the warmth and scent of his body had filled up the little bathroom and stifled her breath.

“The contractor working on the barn and storage sheds has several men working with him. But as far as the ranch goes, I only have two hands. Once I start putting livestock on the place, I’ll hire more. Though my grandfather deeded over the land a few years ago, I only started full-time here about two years ago.”

She kept her gaze on the rocky ground in front of her. “Do you have plenty of land here to support cattle?”

“Ten thousand acres. Not that much, but enough to do what I want to do.”

Glancing over at him, she asked curiously, “And what is that?”

He shrugged and not for the first time, Maura couldn’t help thinking how serious and driven he was for a man his age. Abe had commented one day that his grandson wasn’t yet thirty so that meant he was either twenty-eight or twenty-nine. He certainly didn’t look any older than that, Maura thought. Yet he seemed older, as though the years he’d been on this earth had pushed his soul to manhood long before his body had caught up.

“My plans aren’t anything grand. Just raise a few purebred cattle and a few horses.”

“What about the old gold mine—the Golden Spur—that your ranch is named after?”

She’d not meant to ask that question. It had just slipped out on its own. The same way her heart seemed to jump into a crazy jig each time she looked at his face.

Frowning, he glanced her way. “What about it?” he asked curtly.

Knowing she’d touched on a tender spot, she shrugged in an effort to appear casual. “Nothing really. Except that I couldn’t help noticing the letter Abe asked me to deliver to you. The return address was Red Bluff Mining Company. And your grandfather doesn’t make any secret about wanting to reopen the old thing.”

His footsteps paused on the barren ground and Maura came to a stop with him. As he looked at her, she could see frustration edging his features.

“Gramps thinks the mine could be profitable again. But I don’t want anything to do with it. Having a bunch of trucks and men and equipment going across the ranch is the last thing I need.”

“If it turned out to be profitable, the extra money might come in handy,” she suggested. “Especially when you start buying stock for this place.”

“I don’t need the money,” he said flatly. “Nor do I want it. I’m a rancher, not a miner.”

He picked up his stride again, only this time it was much longer and purposeful as he covered the last few yards to the barn. Maura quickened her steps to stay up with him.

“So if money isn’t the issue, why does your grandfather want to reopen the mine?” she said, darting a quick glance at his sober face.

“For the adventure, Maura. He’s always wanted to turn over a rock just to see what was beneath it. That’s how he got rich in the first place—on the plains of Texas, drilling for oil. He hit it big and brought his fortune out here to New Mexico to buy land and cattle. To him, the mine takes him back to those days when he was drilling for black gold. Guess it makes him feel young all over again. He didn’t care about the mine for years when he owned it, but now that I have the land, it’s all he seems to care about.”

“Sometimes feeling young or having a dream is very important. Sometimes it even keeps a person from dying.”

The muscles around his hard mouth tightened with impatience. “Don’t try to make me believe that Gramps is dying. That he needs you or the mine to keep him healthy.”

“I wouldn’t attempt such a thing,” she said defensively. “Abe isn’t ill. He has a perfectly good mind. And the way I see it, he has the right to dream his own dreams. Just like you.”

By now they had reached the massive barn. Instead of opening the huge double doors at the south end of the building, Quint led her to a smaller entrance at the side.

With his hand pausing on the door latch, he turned a searching look on her. “And what about you, Maura? What are your dreams?”

A few years ago his questions would have been easy to answer. Her dreams were waiting for the day her roving husband would settle down to a life exclusively with her. She’d been dreaming of the time they could start having children and Gilbert would be home so that they could parent them together. She’d waited because he kept promising he’d be ready the next year, and she wanted to raise her children with her husband home every night. But none of those dreams had come true. Instead, she’d discovered he’d changed women as often as he’d changed the cities his job had taken him to. And she’d had to accept the fact of his infidelity and that he’d never intended to change his job and settle down to family life. That had only been one of his false promises.

Maura had spent the past year trying to restore her broken self-confidence and move on from her shattered marriage. For months after her divorce, she’d struggled to simply put one foot in front of the other, and looking back, she realized her responsibilities as a nurse had been the only thing keeping her going. She was good at her job and no man could take that fact away from her. As for her dreams, she wasn’t sure what they were now.

“I don’t know, Quint,” she said honestly. “Sometimes dreams get lost along the way.”

Nobody had to tell him that, he thought grimly. His romantic dreams had been busted years ago. Now his goals were concrete and didn’t depend on another person—particularly a woman.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “And when that happens, it’s damned hard to find new ones.”

While the two of them had been talking, her face had taken on a sad hue and Quint realized he didn’t like seeing her in such a mood. Maybe because it reminded him of his own lonely existence. Or maybe because he simply didn’t like to think of this woman suffering over anyone or anything.

The unwanted notions disturbed him so much that he quickly turned away from her and shoved open the door.

“Let’s go in,” he urged. “I think Jake is probably at the back of the building where the men are working.”

Since livestock hadn’t yet been moved onto the ranch, the barn was missing the smells of animals and hay and leather. Instead, the scents of sawdust and fresh paint filled the air. On the opposite side of the building, a table saw buzzed and hammers rang out as men erected a frame of lumber that Quint explained would eventually become a large feed room.

“The contractor hasn’t yet finished the horse stalls or the tack room. They’ll get to that next,” Quint continued as they slowly made their way through the building.

She was looking around her with real interest, a fact that surprised Quint. Even though she came from a ranching background, she didn’t seem the sort that would be personally interested in such things. After all, she’d chosen a profession outside the Diamond D, her family’s famous thoroughbred ranch. Add to that, she had a soft, feminine air about her that was totally opposite of an outdoor girl.

“This is going to be very nice,” she said. “And I like the way you’ve laid out everything. When you open the big doors, the horses will be able to look outside. They like that, you know. When they can see what’s going on, they’re more content.”

Bemused by her observation, Quint paused to look at her. Now that they were indoors, her features were muted by shadows, yet the dimness couldn’t diminish the pearly sheen of her skin and for a brief moment he wondered what it would feel like to press his cheek against hers, to experience such softness next to him.

“You know about horses, do you?” he asked.

A smile tilted her lips and at that moment he decided he’d never seen anything so fetching or genuine.

“Why wouldn’t I? My family raises thoroughbreds.”

He folded his arms against his chest. “But you don’t work with them. The horses, I mean.”

Her smile turned whimsical. “No. Not since I went into nursing. But I spent a lot of time at the barns when I was young.”

“I know that Bridget is a doctor, but if I remember correctly, you have another sister. What does she do?”

She glanced away from him. “Dallas operates Angel Wing Stables, a therapy riding clinic for handicapped children. It’s completely nonprofit and something she feels deeply about.”

So all three of the Donovan sisters were dedicated to helping needy people. That should have reassured Quint and allowed him to quit worrying aboutAbe hiring Maura as his nurse. But it didn’t. The more he got to know this woman, the more concerned he was. And not because he believed she was out to snag any sort of money from the old man. No, he’d written that idea off fairly quickly. The more he’d thought about it, the more he’d concluded she wasn’t the gold-digger sort. Furthermore, the Donovans had just as much money or more than the Cantrells. She didn’t need it.

No, Quint was far more concerned about his grandfather’s emotional state than his bank account. It was obvious the old man had already grown extremely fond of Maura. And just because Abe was in his eighties, didn’t mean he was immune to a female’s charms. His grandfather might even fall in love with her. Stranger things had happened. And Maura had just now talked about the importance of a man’s dreams. When she left Apache Wells, and she would, what would happen to his grandfather’s dreams? They’d be broken.

Forcing his thoughts back to the moment, he touched a hand to her shoulder and urged her forward. “I see Jake. Let’s go catch up with him.”

At the end of the building, a young man wearing a black cowboy hat and ranch gear was applying neat’s-foot oil to a fancy tooled saddle. The moment he saw their approach, he laid the oily rag to one side and stepped up to meet them.

“I was about to come to the house to make sure you weren’t bleeding to death,” he said to Quint, while his gaze strayed curiously over to Maura.

“I’m fine,” Quint replied. “It just so happens that Maura is a nurse. She was kind enough to bandage me up.”

A wry grin crossed the man’s face. “Now isn’t that something? A beautiful woman comes to your house and she’s a nurse—just when you need one. You always were a lucky dog, Quint.”

Quint couldn’t see where slicing his arm open was lucky, but apparently Jake considered having Maura as a nurse more than fortunate. The idea grated on Quint to no end. Which was a ridiculous reaction. She wasn’t anything to him. If Jake, or any man, wanted to make a play for her, then that was their business, not his.

“Maura, this is my good friend and ranch hand, Jake Rollins. Jake, this is Maura Donovan. She’s my grandfather’s personal nurse.”

Ignoring the last tidbit, the dark-haired man reached to take Maura’s hand. “Are you by any chance related to Liam Donovan?” he asked.

She smiled at Jake and Quint had to fight the urge to jerk her away from the other man and usher her back outside where the two of them would be alone, where her smiles would be directed only at him.

What the hell was coming over him? Quint wondered with self-disgust. Instead of worrying about his grandfather, he needed to be concerned about his own reaction to this woman. He was behaving like a moony bull turned loose in a herd of cows.

“He’s my brother,” Maura said.

“I know him from working the barns at Ruidoso Downs,” Jake informed her. “Nice guy. Heck of a trainer, too. No one told me that he had a beautiful sister.”

Quint made a loud display of clearing his throat. “You’d better finish that saddle, Jake. In a few minutes, we’ve got to get back on that wire stretcher.”

The other man cast him a look of faint surprise, then reluctantly dropped Maura’s hand. “Maybe you’d better keep Maura around. Just in case one of us gets hurt again,” he joked. “Next time it might be me who needs her touch.”

“Keep it up, Jake, and I’ll make sure you get tangled up in barbed wire,” Quint muttered, then carefully steered Maura away from the ranch hand and out a back door.

Once they were well away from the barn, Maura asked, “Have you two known each other long?”

Quint grimaced. “Since kindergarten. We grew up together. He’s like a brother. That’s why I put up with his big mouth.”

Smiling, Maura shrugged. “I didn’t pay him any mind. He was only joking.”

“Don’t bet on it. Jake loves women. Always has.”

They were walking toward a long corral built of rough cedar boards. Attached to one end were several smaller pens with separate gates leading to the outside. Like the barn, the riding arena would have taken lots of time and effort to build. And as Maura looked around her, she could plainly see that Quint was far from the idle sort. He obviously worked hard for everything he had and she admired him greatly for that. Especially when she knew he loved what he was doing.

Gilbert, her ex-husband, had been a pharmaceutical representative and his job was to sell medical products to doctors in private practices, health clinics and hospitals. There was nothing physical about the job. He’d used his mouth and a pen. Two things he was good at. Especially the mouth, she thought grimly. He could sweet-talk a rabid dog into lying down and wagging his tail.

Thanks to his glib tongue, everyone had liked Gil and for several years running, he’d been top salesperson for his company. And that same gift of gab had made him very attractive to women, including Maura. In the beginning of their marriage his sweet talk had sustained and convinced her of his love. Then later, when things between them had grown difficult and doubts of his sincerity had haunted her, that same sweet, persuasive talk had kept her clinging to a man who was incapable of changing.

Yes, she knew all about flirts and all about trying to keep a man at her side. The first had fooled her into thinking she could succeed at the second. And in the end, her five-year marriage had crumbled along with her self-worth.

Shaking away the humiliating thoughts, Maura leaned a shoulder against the board fence and gazed back at the simple stucco house. What would it be like, she wondered, to live in such a simple place? With Quint Cantrell? He wasn’t a wanderer. Apparently he was a homebody, choosing to make his livelihood, his future, with the land. But it didn’t appear that he was a family man. Or maybe he was and just keeping those plans hidden, she silently mused.

“You’re going to have a fine place to raise a family here someday, Quint.”

His features stiffened. “It’ll raise cattle and horses. As for a family—I’m not looking for a woman or family right now,” he said flatly. “And I’m sure not holding my breath until that day.”

Seeing that her comment had rubbed him the wrong way, she pushed away from the fence. “Well, thanks for the tour, Quint. I enjoyed it. But I’d better be heading back. It’s not exactly a short drive back to Apache Wells.”

She started walking back in the direction of the house and her parked truck. Quint followed alongside her.

“Gramps rarely leaves Apache Wells. Maybe you can talk him into coming over here and taking a look at all the work we’ve finished. If that doesn’t interest him, then maybe visiting the old mine might budge him.”

Just from his words, Maura could see that having his grandfather’s admiration meant a lot to him. But what else really mattered to this man? If there was no special woman, no children to be had in his dreams, then what was the Golden Spur going to mean to him? Other than just a place to hang his hat?

At least the man has a future planned for himself, Maura. You have nothing on your agenda, except taking care of an old cantankerous man who could buy a dozen nurses like yourself.

Shoving away the mocking voice in her head, she said to Quint, “I’ll see what I can do about getting him to come for a visit. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that your grandfather does what he wants. Not what others would like for him to do.”

“No. You don’t have to tell me that.”

As they walked the remaining distance to the house, Quint realized he couldn’t keep his eyes off the woman. Her white shirt was sheer enough for him to see the imprint of her bra, the pattern of feminine lace covering her breasts.

She was not a small woman and he could tell by the silhouette of her curves that one breast would be more than enough to fill his hand, his mouth. The idea caused desire to flicker in some part of him that he’d long ago crossed off as dead. And he could only wonder what it was about her that had suddenly stirred him like this.

Since Holly had removed herself from his life, and he’d gotten burned by some superficial gold diggers, sex had become casual, something to forget afterward. And down through the years he’d pushed so hard and so long that he’d felt positive he’d never want another woman in his lifetime.

So why had Maura Donovan come along and reminded him that he was still a man? Lord, he didn’t know the answer. But now that she had, he was going to have to deal with her and himself in a smart and practical way.

At the truck, Quint opened the driver’s door and helped her up into the cab. She smiled down at him and he felt his practicality fly off with the dusty wind.


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