Caught Up in a Cowboy, page 26
He kept his eyes on the road but pressed a kiss to the top of her head and felt her tense muscles relax against him. That was all he needed for now.
They didn’t talk as they drove back to the ranch. They didn’t need to. It was enough to just take comfort in holding on to each other.
Pulling up in front of the house, Quinn sat up and looked around the driveway. “I can’t believe my dad isn’t even back yet. They’re probably sitting in the café, blissfully eating apple pie and vanilla ice cream.” She shook her head. “I guess it’s really only been a few hours, but it feels like a lifetime since I left your house and came back here to find Monty in Max’s room.”
“What the hell was he doing in Max’s room?”
“That’s what I asked him. He was stealing Max’s money from his piggy bank.”
“What?”
“Yeah, that’s what started this whole thing. I caught him stealing money from his own son—money that Max had saved for church.”
“I would have kicked the guy out on his ass.”
“That’s what I tried to do. That’s when he attacked me. I didn’t realize until just now that I haven’t even told you about it. I got so caught up in getting the dog.” The puppy had fallen asleep, and she lifted him from her lap and set him down gently in the box so as not to wake him.
“I didn’t need to know everything that happened. All I saw were the bruises on your skin and I…” He took a deep breath, knowing it wouldn’t help to rehash it. “Do you want to tell me about the rest of it now?”
She nodded, then leaned back against his arm, which was still resting along the back of the seat. His hand moved to her shoulder, to offer comfort as she told him what had happened in Max’s room. He had a feeling she was leaving out some of the details. But what she did say was bad enough.
Rock’s teeth clenched, and he struggled not to put the truck in gear and drive back over to Monty’s to finish the job he’d started.
He pounded his fist against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I didn’t know. Hell, maybe I did. But I didn’t want to know—didn’t want to be right. For Max’s sake. For that sweet little kid, I wanted Hill to have changed—to have turned into a decent guy.”
“I wanted that too. I swear, I wanted to believe him. Believe in him. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Max. How I’m going to break it to him. He thinks Monty hung the moon.”
“It’s going to be tough.” He pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder and holding her tightly. Pulling back, he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and looked into her eyes, hoping she saw the sincerity there. “I’ll help if I can. I’m here for you.”
He dipped his head, unable to hold back, and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss.
She melted into him, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her fists as she deepened the kiss. A soft sound escaped her lips, a cross between a moan and a sigh, and he wanted to pull her onto his lap, to hold her and protect her. And to peel her clothes off and lay her down on the seat of his truck.
Slanting his mouth across hers, he cupped her cheek, holding her face with both hands as he tasted her lips.
She kissed him, hard, balling her hands into fists, then pushed him away. “No. Stop. You can’t do this to me. You say you want to help, that you’re here for me. But you’re not. You weren’t.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”
She scooted back, away from him. “I can’t. I can’t take it again. You left me back then, broke my heart and left me behind. And I thought I’d die of it. Instead, I made a stupid choice and wound up a single mom. And I swore I would never trust another man. Not after you left me, then Monty left me.”
She shook her head, a tremor sounding in her voice. “But I did. I trusted you. You came back and seduced me with your sweet words and your thoughtful gestures. You made me believe in you again. Believe in love again. Then just when I thought we might really have a chance at this thing, you turned tail and ran. Again.”
“I didn’t run.”
“Oh no, you’re right. You let me go. Isn’t that what you said? Some bullshit about loving me enough to let me go?”
“It wasn’t bullshit. It was real. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I was trying to do the right thing—do what was best for you. And for Max.”
“Well, that’s what I’m doing too. And I think what’s best for me and for Max right now is for my son to see that he has a strong woman for a mom. A woman who doesn’t have to depend on a man. Who can stand up for herself, on her own two feet.”
“He’s already seen that. You’ve been doing that for years.”
“Not really. Not totally. Because in my heart of hearts, I always hoped—always prayed—that you would come back. Come back and save us. And then you did. You came back to me, but you didn’t save us. You didn’t make things any better. You did for a very short time when I thought you had really come back, when I thought we had a future, and I could see you getting close to Max and filling up my heart again. But then you left once more. I know what it’s like to love you, Rock, and then have you walk away. And I can’t let that happen to my son. I can’t let his heart be broken the way mine has been.”
Her words were like shards of broken glass piercing his heart. He knew he’d hurt her, knew he’d screwed up when he’d walked away the first time, but damn it, this time he’d been trying to do the right thing. The best thing for all of them.
“Quinn. I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to do that, and I never want to hurt Max. I love that kid. If we could just—”
She held up her hand, cutting off his next words. “Don’t. This is hard enough as it is. You say you don’t want to hurt us, then don’t.” She opened the truck door and slid out of the seat.
Picking up the box with the puppy inside, she stood next to the cab and lifted her chin as she looked him square in the eye. “You said you wanted to let us go. So do it. Let us go. It’s not like it’s going to be that hard—you’re going back to Denver anyway. As soon as you recuperate, you’ll go back to the team, back to your life. Your real life. You can look back on this time as a momentary distraction and get back to the business of being who you really are—Rockford James, team legend, hockey superstar.”
“That’s not fair.” He leaned forward, reaching out his hand, afraid that the best thing in his life was slipping away from him and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
Quinn shook her head and let out a hard breath. “No, it’s not fair. None of this is fair. It’s not fair that you came back and let me fall in love with you again. It’s not fair that you’re leaving and going back to the life you have without us. But that is life. And life’s not fair.”
Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, breaking Rock’s heart further.
He knew this was hard on her, and it was killing him, but what she said also hit a nerve. He did have a life in Denver, did have a career that he was going back to, a team that was counting on him. He didn’t live here. He lived an hour and a half away.
But it might as well be twenty hours away or a hundred, because even though his house was in Denver, he was hardly ever there. He was always at the rink or on the road, traveling with the team.
“You know what I’m saying is true,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I can see it in your face. You know you’re going back as soon as you’re well enough to play. So go back. I’m not asking you to stay. I’m asking you to do what you said you would do this morning. Let us go.”
She took a step back, shut the door of the truck, then turned and ran up the porch steps and into the house.
Rock sat in the truck, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. No, not punched. Stabbed. Like someone had ripped a hole in his stomach, then reached in and pulled his insides out.
Nausea swelled in his throat, and he leaned his head on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to open the door and throw up.
He rubbed his chest, trying to quell the pain in his heart. Pain that burned his throat, that made his bones sore, his soul ache.
He’d been in hundreds of fights in his career, on the ice and off. He’d been punched and kicked and tomahawked with a hockey stick. He’d had his teeth busted and his eyes blackened and more stitches than he wanted to count, but nothing hurt or felt as painful as watching Quinn walk away and knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Because everything she’d said had been true.
Chapter 23
Quinn picked at the food on her plate the next night as she tried to listen to the story Max was telling her. It had been a long day, and she’d sought to stay busy to keep her mind off Rock.
She’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, done several loads of laundry, paid the bills for the ranch, and had made a big supper of spaghetti and homemade meatballs. Anything to keep her hands and her mind busy, so she wouldn’t have time to think about her heart.
Her brother had come back late that afternoon with a load of cattle and supplies, and Rock’s brother Mason had been over, helping him unload. Logan had invited him for supper, and although she’d always loved Mason, it seemed that everything he did tonight—his mannerisms, the way he talked, the way he laughed, heck, even the way he held his dang fork—reminded her of Rock.
The only blessing she’d had that day was the fact that she hadn’t heard anything from Monty. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she’d felt an odd sense of tension throughout the day, as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. She knew he wouldn’t quietly disappear. She just didn’t know what he would do instead.
It had been hard watching the disappointment in Max though. Watching as he stood at the front windows, looking down the driveway, hoping Monty’s car would appear. He hadn’t ever called before. He’d just shown up. This was the first day they hadn’t seen him, and she could sense the frustration and hurt in Max.
Her son was usually so easygoing, but today he’d been moody and cranky.
Ham must have sensed something was going on as well, because he spent most of the day outside, in the barn and the pastures. She hadn’t told him what had happened the day before, but he knew her well enough to know that if she started a cleaning spree like the one she was on today, that it was best to make himself scarce.
“So what do you think about that, Mom?” Max asked, his fork held up in the air as if punctuating his question.
She blinked, trying to form a plausible answer out of the few tidbits of the story she’d heard him talking about. “I think that sounds reasonable.”
He gave her a funny look but accepted the answer.
“I think it’s about time you got ready for bed, young man,” her dad said. “Why don’t you take your plate into the kitchen and go get your pajamas on.”
Quinn offered Hamilton a thankful look. “Don’t worry about your plate. I’ll get it this time. You just worry about getting all that spaghetti sauce off your face. And I mean with a washcloth, not with Truman licking it off.”
Max giggled and slid from his chair. He headed down the hall toward the bathroom, the puppy bounding at his heels.
“That was a delicious meal,” Mason said, setting down his napkin and pushing back from the table. “Thanks, Quinn.”
She smiled over at him. He is not Rock. “You know you’re welcome anytime.”
A knock sounded, and she looked up to see Len Larson filling the frame of the screen door.
“Come on in, Lennie,” her brother called.
Len opened the door and took off his hat as he stepped into the living room. He hung his head and shuffled forward. “I’m sorry to disturb your supper. I’m looking for Quinn.”
What the heck was wrong with him? The guy was normally cheerful and easy to laughter. But something was up. His face was pinched, and he twisted his hat nervously in his hands. He looked like either his dog had just died or his underwear was too tight and causing him some degree of discomfort.
“You don’t have to look too far, Lennie. I’m sitting right in front of you,” she said, failing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Her patience was already thin, and she had a bad feeling about what was causing Lennie to act so out of the ordinary.
He dipped his head and wouldn’t look her in the eye as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I’m real sorry about this,” he said as he held the envelope out.
Logan grabbed the envelope and looked at the front of it before passing it to Quinn. “It’s a summons. What the hell is going on, Len?”
The big man shrugged. “Like I said, I’m real sorry. I’m just doing my job.”
Quinn tore open the envelope and scanned the pages inside. She couldn’t believe it. That son of a bitch. “It’s from Monty. He’s filed a petition with the courts for custody of Max. Claiming that he’s in danger. This is a summons to appear in court tomorrow. It’s to meet the judge for a first appearance to determine if Max is safe.”
“Tomorrow?” Logan asked, looking from Quinn to Lennie. “What is going on? What do you know about this, Lennie? Spill it.”
Len swallowed. “Apparently, he ended up in the emergency room yesterday and ain’t too happy about having to get his eye stitched up. He told me he pulled these forms from the internet and filed ’em with the county clerk yesterday. He said the courts have been quiet this week, and you know his brother’s a cop, and I guess he helped him get the case on the docket for tomorrow because of the urgency of the situation.”
“What urgency? And what does him having to go to the emergency room have to do with us?”
Len stared down at the floor, his face going another shade of red, like his drawers had just gotten even tighter. “He claims Rockford beat him up and Quinn watched, and he’s saying it’s Rock’s fault that Max got his arm busted and that the boy isn’t safe with her.”
Logan’s and Mason’s mouths dropped open at the same time, but her father’s lips pulled into a tight line as his jaw set.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” Len continued, “but I think he’s trying to get Social Services involved to see if they’ll come in and take Max. I know he’s mad and all, but I don’t think that’s right. I know you’re a good mom, Quinn.”
“All right, I think we’ve heard enough. You go on now, Len.” Ham’s voice was hard, his words a command, not a request.
Lennie ducked his head and hurried out of the house, scurrying across the room like a scared rat.
A hard grip of fear tightened like a fist around her heart. Social Services?
She shook her head, her eyes widening, and turned to Ham. “They can’t do that, can they, Dad? They can’t take Max from me.”
Hamilton pushed back from the table and stood up, his body tensed as if ready for a fight. “They can’t if he isn’t here. I’ve been thinking about taking the boy camping anyway. This is as good a time as any. If you can get some of his things packed, we can leave in thirty minutes.” He didn’t wait for an answer but marched toward his room, muttering, “I knew we shouldn’t have let that son of a bitch into the house.”
Quinn sat, stunned, trying to digest the information she’d just heard. Why was Monty doing this? What was his end game?
And how the heck did he get a preliminary hearing set up so quickly? She knew his brother was a cop, but didn’t realize he had that much pull.
Apparently, it took only one string to make something happen, as long as it was the right string. And Franklin was a smaller town than Creedence, so maybe their docket had an opening.
She wasn’t sure if having her dad whisk Max off in the night was the smartest decision, but it was the only one she could think of that would keep her son completely safe. She trusted her dad and knew he would die before he let anything happen to Max.
And his behavior this afternoon showed that Monty was a true wild card. She’d seen violence and temper in his eyes and knew he was like a snake trapped in a corner and ready to strike out.
Taking Max out of the county might not be the smartest idea, but she’d be damned if she was going to let that low-life rattlesnake get his fangs into her boy.
“This is ridiculous,” Logan said, eyeing Quinn across the table. “But it sounds like there’s more to the story about what happened yesterday. Why don’t you tell us what’s really going on?”
She picked at the seam of the place mat, her gaze trained on the quilted rose pattern, instead of at her brother, as she told him and Mason what had happened.
“That bastard,” Logan said between clenched teeth.
“I can’t believe Rock didn’t break his legs,” Mason said.
“He might have if I hadn’t pulled him away. Monty had called his brother, and he or someone from the police department was headed toward their house when we got out of there. I’m assuming it was his brother and that he must not have filed an actual police report, because no one showed up here last night. Did they come out to your place?” she asked Mason.
He shook his head. “No. We didn’t see anyone last night. I barely saw Rock. He stayed in his room most of the night. I knew he was in a foul mood, and now this explains it.”
This didn’t explain all of it.
His mood might have something to do with the fact that they’d broken up again. This time for good.
Should she warn Rock? Let him know what was happening?
Maybe he got a summons as well. But his name hadn’t appeared on any of her paperwork. And calling him would just drag them right back into each other’s lives again, and she couldn’t take that right now.
“What can we do to help, Quinn?” Mason asked. “You want us to come over here tonight? Stand guard in case Hill or his brothers try something?”
