Page 10 of The Cowboy's Christmas
Chapter Three
Quinn watched froma chair on the far side of the waiting area as Deke Hudson’s niece exited the hospital holding her little girls’ hands. Twins, maybe? One was the image of her mother with dark wavy hair and the other, who had a reddish-brown ponytail that bounced when she walked, probably took after her father.
As soon as they were out the door, Quinn got to his feet and followed them into the parking lot, hoping he didn’t come off as stalkerish. He wasn’t there to stalk; he was there to help. Something the deputy had said to him while the sheriff tried to talk Deke into the ambulance had stuck and he wanted to make sure the woman wasn’t in a situation.
Not wanting to chase her to her truck, he walked a few steps, then called, “Ms. Dunn!”
Savannah stopped in her tracks, and, still holding her daughters’ hands, turned. Upon seeing him standing at the end of the sidewalk, hands stuck deep in the pockets of his heavy canvas coat, she straightened her back.
“Can we talk?” he called.
“Depends,” she answered, lifting her daughters’ hands a few inches to indicate she was not going to get too deeply into anything with her kids there to witness.
“Maybe after you get your girls in the truck?”
She was silent for a moment as the girls studied him curiously. The dark-haired one moved a little closer to her.
He squelched the urge to say something reassuring. If Deke’s niece didn’t want to talk to him, he wasn’t going to force the issue. Finally, though, her shoulders dropped, and he knew she’d made her decision. She’d hear him out.
“Let me get the girls situated and we can talk.”
“Sounds good.”
He stayed planted at the end of the sidewalk next to the ambulance entrance as she opened the back door of the truck and helped the little girls scramble in, one after the other. Apparently they had questions, because Savannah talked full time as they settled into their car seats. The red-haired girl twisted in her seat to point at him through the back window and Savannah shook her head, looking none too happy about this new wrinkle in what had to be a stressful situation, particularly if the accident had left her shorthanded. And that was what he needed to know.
Savannah shut the door then crossed the parking lot, coming to stand a few feet away from him.
Now that he had her full attention, he wasn’t sure how to dive in. It’d been a while since he’d been perceived as a bad guy, because generally he tried to do the right thing, but he wasn’t going to try to convince this woman he was a good guy. He would make his offer, then leave.
“The deputy I talked to said that Deke was the muscle on your ranch.” He shifted his weight as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do you have the manpower to run the place without him? Because if you don’t, I want to make that right.”
Her cautious expression gave way to a suspicious frown. “How?”
Quinn shrugged. “I could pay for day help.” He figured his brothers probably knew someone who would fit the bill. “This isn’t guilt speaking. I just…hate to think of your uncle beating himself up mentally or physically because you don’t have the manpower you need.”
She didn’t seem to know how to take his statement—probably because she’d already painted him as the villain of the piece. But he’d give her this, she held his gaze, giving him a chance to see just how blue her eyes were. Not piercing blue, but rather a deep navy with gold flecks. Eyes you’d have to look twice at to realize they were blue and not dark brown.
Savannah smiled grimly. “Maybe I can find help when the college kids get home for Christmas, but right now you aren’t going to find many warm bodies in need of work. Those that do daywork are either hired or have headed out to find other work.”
“I could do it.”
“What?” She took a jerky step back. He’d surprised her with his impulsive offer—probably as much as he’d surprised himself. But once said, it kind of made sense.
“I could help you until my truck is running. I’m pretty much stranded here.”
“You said you were going home and coming back for your truck.”
“That was one plan. The other was to stay here until it’s repaired. It doesn’t matter to me which it is.” Both were pain in the ass situations, equally inconvenient, but if he had something to do while he was here, why not stay?
“Don’t you work?”
“I have the month off.”
“I don’t think—” she started, then abruptly shut her mouth. “Do you know ranch work?”
He spread his hands, indicating his work coat, worn jeans and boots. She cocked an eyebrow as if to say,“Anyway can dress that way. It doesn’t mean you know anything,”then frowned as she zeroed in on his 50X Resistol, which had set him back a pretty penny.
“I’m wearing my good hat,” he confessed. “To meet my brothers.”
