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“You’re a rich woman, Maura. You never had suspicions about his motives?” His brows pulled together. “Damn, you must have been a trusting soul.”
She groaned with regret. “That’s what I meant about being a good actor. Gil was the sort that could make a person believe the sun was shining in the middle of a rainstorm. Even Mother believed he was sincere. But Daddy totally disapproved of him. He described Gil as slicker than an oil pit. At that time I thought Daddy was just being overly protective with his daughter. But unfortunately, it turned out that Daddy was right and I was the naive one. I believed Gil truly loved me.”
He caught the sound of self-deprecation in her voice and was amazed at how much that sound depicted his own feelings.
“So how did you learn he’d married you for your money? Weren’t there signs on the wall that you could have read?”
Maura answered ruefully, “There was nothing about Gil that appeared out of line. Until after we were married. And even then I didn’t think it suspicious when he wanted to use our money—or technically you could call it my money—to buy luxury items like vehicles and boats and exotic vacations. He always reasoned the purchases away by insisting he wanted me to have the best of things. Because he loved me. Because I worked so hard as a nurse that I deserved them.” Full of shame, she looked at him. “I couldn’t see through him, Quint. I wanted to believe that he loved me so much he merely wanted to spoil me with gifts. I didn’t want to consider, even for a moment, that he was in the marriage for ulterior reasons. But as time went on I couldn’t ignore his lavish spending. Then finally I started asking myself if he was really buying these things for himself and using me as an excuse.”
“How did you discover the truth?” he asked gently.
She let out a long sigh. “It all happened over the course of two or three years,” she told him. “But the turning point began when I wanted to get pregnant and have a child.”
Struck by that, he turned toward her. “He didn’t want children?”
Shaking her head, she said, “Gil’s job had him traveling at least three or four days out of the week, sometimes more. We both agreed that wasn’t conducive to raising a family. So I promised to wait and he promised to put in for a desk job that would allow him to stay home. But year after year began to pass and everything stayed the same. He always came up with excuses as to why he couldn’t change jobs within the company.”
His expression stern, he said, “Maybe he resented the fact that you were working at a career you liked while you expected him to change jobs? What did he think about you working?”
“He did resent me asking him to change—but I didn’t find out about that until—” She paused, then went on bitterly, “Well, until later. But as for me working, he was all for it. My job kept me occupied and out of his way. So that he’d be free to do his own thing.”
“I think I see,” he said thoughtfully. “So what did you do?”
She turned her palm upward in a helpless gesture. “I began to question him and he promptly accused me of nagging.” Bending her head, she said in a strained voice, “Most women want to bear a child, Quint. That’s all I wanted. But he couldn’t even give me that much.”
The pain in her voice stabbed him right in the middle of his chest. What kind of man would want to hurt this woman, lose this woman? he wondered.
“That’s why you divorced him?”
She grimaced. “That was only a part of it, Quint. I found out…at the clinic where I worked, I accidentally overheard a couple of nurses discussing us. They were saying how sorry they felt for me because he’d had so many women during his travels and I didn’t seem to know.”
“What they were saying could have been unfounded gossip,” he reasoned.
“That’s what I wanted to think. But I confronted Gilbert about it and he confessed. He’d never intended to take a desk job or have a family. He liked things as they were. In short, he wanted his fun and a rich wife on the side.”
“Sounds like a real nice bastard.”
Her expression was stark as she turned her head and looked at him. “See. A man like that—I should have known all along. From the very first my father tried to warn me about Gilbert. But I was so blinded I wouldn’t listen to him. I let love lead me around by the nose. And now—well, I’m not going to let that happen again.”
Her firm vow sounded like so many he’d made to himself. And yet he had the strangest urge to tell her she shouldn’t be bitter or wary. She was a gentle and lovely woman and some man would eventually come along and love her. Really love her. So why wasn’t he thinking that about himself? he wondered wryly. He was a good and honest man. Why didn’t he believe a good, sincere woman would come along and love him?
Quint couldn’t answer that question. He didn’t even try. Instead, all he could say was, “I understand where you’re coming from, Maura.”
Twisting her body toward his, she reached over and clasped his hand between hers. The unexpected touch warmed him, excited him in ways he’d couldn’t explain.
“Do you, Quint? You and Holly—”
“Weren’t compatible,” he finished for her. “Mainly she wanted a different lifestyle than me. A rancher’s day-today grind wasn’t glamorous enough for her.”
Maura frowned. “Everyone around here knew you would always be a rancher. Surely she didn’t think you would change that for her.”
Grimacing, he shook his head. “No. We’d been dating since high school, but when we got engaged we were both in our senior year of college and I was earning a degree in agriculture business. She had hopes that I would put that to use in other ways than a hands-on rancher. She saw me becoming an executive for some cattle-buying firm or working my up to a prestigious position in the equine business. Or even just sitting back and managing the ranch from an office.”
A faint smile curved her lips. “I can’t see you doing any of that. You’re an outdoor man.”
He grunted cynically. “Holly never understood that about me. She also believed we’d make our home at the Chaparral. I explained that I considered that my parents’ home and I wanted something of my own. And when I made it clear that I wanted something far more modest than the Chaparral, she didn’t hide her disappointment in me. In her opinion, I gave her plenty of reasons to look elsewhere. And maybe I did. But a man can’t compromise his basic roots.”
“Well, if I remember right the Johnsons were well-off,” Maura reasoned. “I guess Holly’s parents had always given her whatever she wanted. That’s never a good thing.”
Quint grimaced. “I thought her family being well-off meant that she couldn’t be interested in my money. Not when she already had her own. I was a fool for not realizing that people like Holly always want more. I suppose when she met that rich real estate guy up in Denver she saw her chance to get everything she wanted. It didn’t matter that he was nearly twice her age.” Sarcasm twisted his features. “She would consider my little house on the Golden Spur a shack. But you know what, it’s me and I like it. I wouldn’t change it for her. For anyone.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” she said softly.
Her fingers moved gently over the top of his hand as though she wanted to console him in some way. But Quint could have told her that he didn’t need that sort of comforting from her. He wanted her lips fastened to his, her body crushed beneath him. The thought of making love to this woman was beginning to consume him and make everything else seem very unimportant. That couldn’t be healthy. But he’d already gone past the point of stopping it.
He sighed. “Since Holly, I’ve met a few women who thought they could change me. In a way, I guess I’ve had the same sort of problem that you had with your ex. Most of the women I’ve dated seemed to equate Cantrell money with easy living. But that’s not what I’m about, Maura.”
“No,” she said gently. “I can see you’re not that sort of man.”
He believed her and that in itself was scary. He wasn’t expecting this woman to be able to read him, empathize with him. He’d looked for her to be cut from the same cloth as the rest that had come and gone in his life. The fact that she was so different knocked him totally off guard.
Clearing his throat, he tugged on her hand. “Well, time is getting on, we’d better mount up,” he told her.
With his hand beneath her elbow, he helped her across the rocky ground and over to where the horses stood tethered in the shade. After a few minutes of untying reins and tightening girths, they were ready to mount up and Quint automatically moved behind Maura to assist her into the saddle.
He was about to reach for a hold on her waist when she suddenly turned to face him. And as he found his face close to hers, he felt his heart thudding hard and fast. She was looking at him with eyes as soft as a summer night.
“I just wanted to thank you, Quint. For listening to my troubles. I used to be terribly embarrassed for anyone to know that Gilbert chased after other women.” Her long lashes fluttered demurely downward to hide her green eyes. “For a long time I thought—well, that I must be lacking as a woman. Now I’m beginning to believe that he was the one who was lacking something. Not me.”
Quint couldn’t stop himself from groaning as his hands settled on her shoulders. “Oh, Maura, you’re lovely and sexy and I want to kiss you. Very much.”
Maura didn’t stop to think or even speak. She simply closed her eyes and leaned into him. And when his lips came hungrily down on hers, something inside her melted like a sand castle beneath a wash of tide. He swept her away, made her forget, made her long for all the things she’d been trying to forget.
Expecting the kiss to turn as torrid as it had the other night when he’d visited Apache Wells, Maura was surprised when he soon lifted his head and gave her a crooked grin.
“We’d better mount up this time,” he said huskily. “Before I forget where we are.”
Unable to do much more than nod, Maura turned to Pearl and, with Quint’s help, climbed into the saddle. But as the two of them rode out of the quiet arroyo, all she could think about was being in his arms.
Chapter Six (#u8604a1f9-c492-5802-bb46-74e1e372fc68)
Chillicothe consisted of five buildings grouped together in one small area and split by a dimly rutted road that, back in the town’s heyday, had probably been considered the main street. These days, tall sage and prickly pear had taken over most of the roadway.
As Quint and Maura rode through the ghostly village, she looked around with keen interest.
“This is very neat—having an old mining settlement on your property,” she said.
He shrugged. “It can also be a nuisance. Gramps and I are often approached about opening the place up to tourists. Some even suggest rebuilding it into a wild west town and charging admission. Can you imagine what a circus that would cause around here?”
“I wouldn’t like it,” she admitted. “What does Abe think?”
“Thank God he agrees with me on that issue. This little town is just like a grave site. It shouldn’t be trampled on by a bunch of strangers.”
Shaded by several tall cottonwood trees, the largest building of the lot had once been a company store and directly across from it, the swinging doors of an old saloon had long ago fallen from their hinges and landed on the planked porch. Down the street three more buildings were partially standing, one of which appeared to have been a blacksmith shop. Part of a forge was visible in the open doorway.
“We’ll come back in a few minutes for a closer look and have lunch,” he told her. “Right now let’s ride on to the mine. It’s just a short distance from here.”
“Fine,” she agreed.
After leaving the remnants of Chillicothe, they rode northwest for another quarter of a mile. Here the landscape changed to low mountains covered with short grass, a sprinkling of orange and purple wildflowers and a few pines.
When they reached a small creek trickling with crystal clear water, Quint said, “Back in the eighteen hundreds the miners first found gold panning this little creek. But it was a long time afterward before they began to dig for it.”
Bemused, Maura looked down at the stream. “I wonder if any nuggets are still around?”
“You’re welcome to pan,” he teased.
Laughing, she looked over at him. “No thanks. I might get the fever and then I’d have to set up camp out here.”
The grin slowly faded from his face. “That might not be a bad thing. Then I wouldn’t have to make excuses to see you.”
Since their stop at the arroyo, something had changed between them, Maura thought. She didn’t know exactly what it was or what had brought it about. But with every beat of her heart she could feel herself drawing closer and closer to this man. With every breath she took, the protective wall she’d built around her was crumbling away into useless rubble.
“You mean showing me Chillicothe and the mine was just an excuse to see me?” she asked.
His low chuckle was both sensual and suggestive and Maura’s cheeks burned with self-conscious heat. In her younger days, she’d never had trouble attracting the opposite sex and even since her divorce from Gilbert, she’d been asked on dates by a few men. But she could safely say none of them had been half as masculine or sexy as Quint. And just the idea that a man like this young rancher wanted her company rattled her senses.
“No. I honestly wanted you to see them,” he admitted with a grin. “Having your company is a nice addition.” He motioned for her to follow him across the creek. “Come on. The mine is just around this next hill.”
Maura was surprised when the entrance to the Golden Spur finally came into view. From all the talk that Abe had been doing about the mine, she’d expected something far more grand than a small hole in the side of the mountain.
Like the buildings in the nearby ghost town, the lumber used to frame the entrance had now weathered to little more than gray pieces of wood. In some places the nails had rusted completely away and the boards looked as though a strong puff of wind would cause them to collapse. But above the dark entrance, a large piece of tin with the name of the mine was still erect and dark enough to read.
After they dismounted and tethered their horses on an old broken wheel that someone had discarded, they walked near enough to the entrance to peer inside.
“So this is what has Abe all stirred up,” Maura said with amazement. “It doesn’t look like much from here.”
“It probably isn’t. As far as I know no one has been inside to do any type of work since back in the 1950s. At that time the miners weren’t pulling enough gold out to warrant keeping the thing open. But for some reason Gramps believes there are more veins of gold ore to be found here. Why, I don’t know,” Quint said wryly. “He just gets these hunches.”
“Well, from what he’s told me about his oil-drilling days, he’s had some good hunches.” Bracing her hand against one of the sturdier boards, Maura stuck her head inside and tried to peer into the dark cavern. “Can we go inside?”
“You mean you’d want to?” he asked with a bit of amazement.
“Sure. I’m not a scaredy cat.” As long as losing her heart to a man wasn’t involved, she thought. Though, she had to admit that the longer she hung around Quint, the more she was feeling the danger.
“Well, want to or not, it wouldn’t be safe. A few months ago, I went a short distance inside and from what I could see the timbers appeared to still be intact, but I’m sure the years have compromised their sturdiness. Since no one knew I was out here, I decided it would be foolish to explore any deeper.”
“Do you have any idea how far the mine goes back into the mountain? I’ll bet you could probably find old maps through county archives.”
“Gramps has a copy of one of the most recent maps made. There’s a network of shafts in there, but I don’t remember how deep they go. A fair distance, I think.”
She turned away from the dark cave to find Quint standing a few inches behind her and she wondered if he realized how tempting he was, how much she wanted to reach out and connect to him, even in the most simple ways.
Drawing in a breath, she asked, “Have you decided anything about bringing in the mining company to reopen the Golden Spur?”
His gaze narrowed keenly on her face. “I haven’t. Not yet. Why?”
She smiled gently. “Just curious. And if you’re thinking I’m going to take Abe’s side of things, you’re wrong. I’m not going to take yours or his. This old mine is between the two of you. The only thing I will say is that I can see pros and cons either way.”
He chuckled. “Very diplomatic, Maura. Maybe you should have been a politician instead of a nurse.”
She laughed along with him. “Well, my dad set me on a fence long before he put me on a horse. So I learned to straddle it first.”
His hand wrapped around her shoulder and she felt her breath catch in her throat as his fingers gently kneaded her flesh.
“Thank you, Maura. It feels good to be able to laugh and not take the mine issue so seriously.”
As she looked into his eyes, nerves fluttered in her stomach and unconsciously the tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lips. If he kissed her again, as he had in the arroyo, she didn’t know if she could hide the desire that was subtly simmering deep within her. “It feels good to me to be here and forget about a lot of things.”
Suddenly clearing his throat, he urged her away from the cave door. “Let’s go have our lunch. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Yes, she was starving all right, Maura thought. And she’d not realized just how much until Quint had stepped into her lonely life.
By the time they rode back to Chillicothe, the clouds overhead were pulling together to form a gray, menacing sky. After leaving their horses in the shelter of the old blacksmith shop, they carried their saddlebags down to the mercantile building.
Maura was totally surprised when Quint opened the door and she stepped inside to see an old table and chairs in the middle of the large wooden floor.
“I know this hasn’t been here since the town was deserted,” she declared.
“No. Jake and I hauled it out here. This building is in the best condition of all of them, so we chose it to fix up for a line shack. You never know when an electrical storm or a blizzard might blow up and it’s good to have a place to shelter or even spend the night, if need be. We have candles, kerosene lanterns, firewood and some canned goods and bedding all stored in the back.”
“This is neat,” she said as she gazed around her at the rows of dusty shelves lining the walls and a long counter running across the back. “We can leave the door open for light and it will almost be like we’re eating outside.”
Quint slanted her a rueful glance. “Unfortunately we only have an outhouse for a bathroom. It’s behind this building just in case you need it. But there’s piped water from a nearby spring for washing. You’ll find it at the side of the building near a wooden water trough.”
“Thanks,” she told him. “I’ll be right back.”
When she returned he had sandwiches laid out on the tabletop, along with four cans of beverages. In the middle of the table, a fat candle held by a shallow jar lid was now lit and the glow of the flame helped chase away the gloom of the threatening rain clouds. She’d been present at a few candlelight dinners before, but none had been quite like this. And Maura realized the quaintness of their surroundings had only a small part to play in the specialness of the meal. It was Quint who was making it all so unique. Quint who was making her very aware of their isolated setting.
He helped her into one of the chairs and as she thanked him, he said, “I’d better warn you that the food is sorta sloppy. I’m not too good with kitchen duties.”
“I can eat most anything,” she told him. “And I brought a few things, too. Potato chips, candy bars and brownies.”
“That sort of bad stuff? From a nurse?” He chuckled as he took the chair across from her. “Where did you pick up such nasty habits?”
Laughing along with him, she said, “S-s-shh. Don’t tell anyone, but we nurses don’t always follow doctor’s orders.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Now I won’t feel guilty about stuffing myself.”
