Page 72 of The Cowboy's Christmas
Chapter Fifteen
Quinn rolled outof bed well before daylight, even though he’d lain awake for most of the night. He was about to hit the road, and for the first time since he’d been a teenager, he wasn’t ready to do that.
I can’t afford to fall in love with you.
There’d been a note of anxiety in Savannah’s voice, subtle, but recognizable. Like she hadn’t wanted him to ask questions or probe too deeply.
From the cradle he’d been taught that no means no, so here he was, making his last breakfast before washing up the kitchenware Savannah had left him, stripping the bed, packing his small duffel, while everything in him shouted that he needed to stay.
It’d been years since he’d done anything but accept the fact that moving on was the way he lived. Whenever he’d started to put down roots, life yanked them back up again, so what else could he do? Eventually he began to take pride in his vagabond ways. He was who he was. Looking at it now, he wondered if that pride was a survival strategy, forged when he was young, and honed as an adult.
Not long after Quinn had packed his few belongings, Jeff Barnett showed up in a tricked-out Ford 250 with a six-inch lift and tires that had to cost a couple thousand bucks each. Savannah came out of the house at the same moment Quinn left the barn, and as she let herself out of the gate, Jeff made a show of double taking, then clutching his heart.
Savannah ignored him as she strode to where Quinn stood. He had the feeling that if it hadn’t been for Jeff’s presence, she wouldn’t have approached so readily. She tucked her hair behind her ear, morning-after misgivings shifting her features to an expression of uncertainty.
She raised an eyebrow in a silent question. He nodded. They were good. He might not like it, but he wasn’t going to show it for her sake. But as Savannah headed toward Jeff, her back stiff, he wondered if she was any happier about the circumstances than he was.
She’d never said she was happy he was leaving. She’d said that she needed time.
That was the straw he was grasping onto. Time.
“Ready to start?” Savannah asked Jeff.
Quinn knew the answer and silently mouthed the words as Jeff said them.
“I was born ready.”
Working with Jeff Barnett while Quinn and Savannah showed him his duties went exactly the way Quinn had imagined. The man talked too much while he worked and ogled Savannah to the point that Quinn was beginning to feel the need to do something about it. Jeff must have ultimately read death in Quinn’s gaze because he started keeping his eyes on his work instead of on the driver. And, perhaps to make amends, he’d loudly offered Quinn a ride back to town in front of Savannah. Jeff Barnett was a team player!
Quinn accepted and while he was collecting his duffle and putting Pepper into the back seat of Jeff’s truck, Savannah headed to the house without looking back, only to return with an envelope a few minutes later. His paycheck. She handed it to him, their eyes holding for one electric moment, then she turned and headed up the walk to the porch.
For the best, Quinn decided. How many goodbyes could a guy take when he wasn’t ready for any at all?
He started toward Jeff’s abomination on wheels when one of the twins called his name. He turned to see Savannah standing on the porch with her nieces on either side of her.
“Give me a minute?” he asked Jeff, who gave a knowing look in return.
Quinn made a mental note to control himself on the drive to town, then headed back to the porch.
“We made you this,” Sophie said, holding out a small tissue-wrapped package.
“You can’t eat it,” Jessa added. “It’s a cookie cutter thing, but not a cookie.”
“You put it on your tree,” Sophie explained.
“Deke made flour clay with the girls,” Savannah said as Quinn took the package.
“Thank you,” he said, kneeling so that he was at eye level with the girls. “I’ll think of you two whenever I look at it.”
“Are we going to see you again?” Jessa asked, twisting one side of her jacket.
He tried not to look at Savannah but failed. Her expression was unreadable. No hints there. “I hope so,” he finally said.
“We’ll be somewhere else with our mom and dad,” Sophie added. “But we can tell you how to find us.”
“Good to know.” He got to his feet and carefully put the wrapped ornament in his jacket pocket. “Now I have a present to put under my tree.”
His pretend tree, because at this late date, if he made it home for Christmas, he wasn’t bothering. He’d put up a tree with Savannah and the girls, had a great time doing it, and had no intentions of putting up another. Not this year, anyway.
