Page 38 of Quinn

Moving to stand at Eloise’s side, Quinn gently brushed her cheek before turning to face the rest of the room. “We’ve moved most of the vehicles and some of the equipment into the garages, and covered and secured the ones that don’t fit.”

Uncle Sean nodded. “And the barns and outbuildings are locked and secured, vents closed. Hopefully there’ll be minimal dust seepage.”

“Good.” Aunt Eileen nodded.

For a ranch family, preparing for a little dust up was just another day at work. Quinn just wished things weren’t happening so fast. Everything in him said this was going to be a doozy of a duster, and his uncle looked to be thinking the same thing.

“Well.” Aunt Eileen slapped her hands together and smiled at everyone in the room. “Dinner is almost ready. I suggest y’all settle down for a bit and I’ll whistle when supper is served.”

Several heads bobbed as everyone scattered.

Seeing the concern in Eloise’s eyes, he reached out and took hold of her hand. “You okay?”

She nodded, her gaze lifting upward to the ceiling. “You guys look like you’ve got everything under control.”

“It’s Danny you’re worried about?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s been napping an awfully long time. I’m torn between checking on him and leaving him be.”

“It’s okay to check on him.” Quinn wished he had some soothing words for her. Truth was he had no clue what was best for a person suffering from PTSD, but he did know that sitting here worrying wasn’t good for Eloise. “If you’d like, I’ll go with you.”

A dim light returned to her eyes, some of the worry—but not all—slipping away. “Thank you.”

Taking the hand he held in his and lifting it to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “You can always count on me to have your back. Always.”

A smile touched the corners of his mouth. Ever so softly, she muttered, “Ditto.”

Still holding her hand, he followed her slow pace climbing the stairs. He could feel the tension building in her as she tightened her grip. Halfway down the hall, Danny’s door stood slightly ajar.

She tapped lightly. “Danny?” When he didn’t answer, she inched the door open.

Looking over her shoulder, he could see what she did. The bed made with military precision, corners crisp enough to bounce a quarter. The clothes that usually littered the chair had vanished.

“Danny?” she repeated, her voice sounding small in the empty room.

Letting go of her hand, Quinn looked into the bathroom. Empty. The counters wiped clean. This was not a good sign. Turning back into the room, he could see the closet door hung open, the hangers empty. No sign of the duffle bag he’d arrived with. On the perfectly centered pillow lay an envelope with Eloise’s name neatly printed across the front.

Moving ever so slowly toward the bed, Eloise reached over, her fingers trembling as she picked up the envelope.

Coming up beside her, Quinn placed his hands on her shoulders. If he could think of something appropriate, he would say it, but nothing came to mind. All he could do was stand there and be ready when she needed a shoulder to cry on, because if there was one thing he knew was certain from the condition of the room, she was not going to be happy with whatever the note had to say.

A stronger gust rattled the windows. Outside he could see a dark wall of dust building in the distance. As if punctuating his observations, lights overhead flickered a moment before shining brightly again. Not sure what else to do, he waited for her to open the letter.

Her hands still trembling, she read the letter to herself. Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and handed Quinn the paper. “He’s going back to Chicago.”

Quickly, he glanced at what Danny had to say. Basically, he knew the VA would cut his benefits, he knew his sister would have to carry his weight, and he knew that she was falling in love with Quinn and he didn’t want to be a fifth wheel. For a short instant, he stumbled over the words falling in love, but brushed them aside. This was no time to linger on how he felt about her or how she felt about him. They had a bigger problem on their hands. If Danny was heading for Chicago, then he was out there somewhere and Quinn would bet his last dollar, Danny had never been in a dust storm and had no idea what he was in for.

Chapter Seventeen

“Try calling him. Depending on where the storm is, it might not work, but it’s the best place to start.” Quinn’s words snapped Eloise from her daze.

Her fingers punched one for speed dial. Nothing. The call went straight to voice mail. Whether it was the storm, or knowing she would try to call, he might have turned the phone off, she didn’t know. Disconnecting the call, she shook her head at Quinn.

“All right. We need to tell everyone what’s going on, starting with Declan.”

Of course. In Chicago a person would call 911, in West Texas, you called on the police chief. A plus when the police chief was part of the family. Clutching the letter in her hand, she followed Quinn out of the room and downstairs.

It took Quinn all of thirty seconds to explain the situation.

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