HIS COWGIRL VALENTINE

Chapter One

Print this Page

Tess Aldridge had her back to the door of

her office located in the McCann ranch

house, but when she heard footsteps

entering the room, she knew immediately

who she would find when she turned

around. It had been two years since

Quinn McCann had last visited his

uncle’s ranch, but the man had always

had a wicked way of making her aware

of him, even when he’d been a boy.

She took a deep breath, trying to prepare

herself, but Quinn hadn’t come any

farther into the room. "So, are you

coming all the way in, Quinn, or are you

just going to stand there?"

Turning, she found him lounging against

the door frame, all dark hair and killer

green eyes, a grin on his face. "You

always were bossy, Tess. And direct."

Yes, but not as direct as he thought. If

she’d said just what she thought, then

he’d know…things she didn’t ever want

him to know. Still, she couldn’t hide the

pleasure that washed over her, looking at

him. He was just as she remembered

him: six feet of pure green-eyed male. "I

thought you might not show up."

"And miss Uncle Henry’s big moment?

He put a lot of money and manpower

into building that combination shelter

and community center. He’s always

helped people, including me. I couldn’t

miss being there when the center opens

and he finally gets recognized for the

things he’s done. Why would I stay

away, Tess?"

The look in his eyes was a challenge. He

was daring her to state the obvious. She

shouldn’t rise to the bait. It would be like

poking a bear, but somehow she had

never been able to keep herself from

poking at Quinn. "The celebration is on

Valentine’s Day, on your birthday. You

hate that day. There. You made me say

it."

He chuckled, a low sound that went

straight through her body. "I remember

the first time I ever saw you. I was

sixteen, my father had sent me here

because I was in trouble, and I was angry

about being banished from Chicago to

Montana. You were living with your

family in a cabin on the ranch and you

walked up to me and said, ‘I’ve heard

that you’re really bad.’ You sounded so

hopeful that I hated to tell you that I

hadn’t broken any laws. And now I have

to set you straight again. I don’t hate that

day. I just don’t acknowledge it."

He was lying. She knew it. He knew it.

But he had good reason to lie, so Tess let

him get away with it. "Well, I’m glad

you came." And then, because she never

could let anything too personal pass

between them, she added, "Henry misses

you."

"I miss him, too." And yet Quinn only

showed up every two to three years. It

had always been that way.

"I was sorry about your father."

He nodded, a look of dark pain in his

eyes. Then, in that way Quinn had

always had, he turned the subject. "Still

no ring on your finger, Tess?" he asked,

pushing away from the door frame and

moving closer to her. She braced herself

for impact, for that overpowering

awareness of Quinn that she had felt

from the first minute they’d met, back

when she’d been a skinny fourteen-year-

old with a long blond braid and he’d

been her reluctant hero who had teased

her mercilessly but never told her to get

lost.

She held up her ringless hand. "The

diamond’s so big that I can’t wear it

when I’m going over your uncle’s books.

It’s hard to work the keys on the

computer when my finger’s so weighed

down," she teased, conjuring up a fantasy

engagement. "It’s quite the rock. He’s a

billionaire and totally crazy about me.

How about you? Still swearing off love

and romance and marriage?"

"Always have, always will." He said it so

lightly and yet she knew there was

nothing light about Quinn’s reasons for

not getting involved.

Tess tilted her head in acknowledgment.

"How long are you staying?" But she was

pretty sure she knew the answer.

"Just a couple of days. Until Uncle

Henry’s celebration is over." And then

he’d be gone again, back to Chicago or

Germany or Italy or one of the other

places his small-garage empire brought

him. Back to a world she knew nothing

of. Gone. Just like always. "I’ll bet

you’ve put a lot of work into this party."

She smiled. "Henry deserves it, and the

center is amazing. Besides, times are

tight, and people need somewhere special

to go on Valentine’s Day that won’t

break the bank."

"You were always the romantic."

She managed not to blush. "I was a silly

teenager."

He frowned. "I didn’t mean to embarrass

you. You were sweet, and I was just…

me, which was never your fault. Besides,

I just meant that you have a soft heart for

people in love, for holidays and for…

pink," he said, indicating her rose-

colored pencil-slim skirt and pale pink

blouse. "For a while there, you even wore

pink boots when you were roping

calves."

"How do you know I still don’t wear

pink ones?" she teased. "Just because I’m

not wearing them now doesn’t mean

they’re not pink."

"Tess? Sweetheart? What are you talking

about?" a different male voice asked.

Tess nearly groaned. She turned. Leo

Baldwin, a cowboy she’d dated once or

twice, had just come in through the front

door. He was staring at Quinn through

the open door of her office.

Leo clearly thought she and Quinn had

been talking about something other than

her boots. She could see the

consternation on his usually smiling face,

and she held back a sigh. She and

Leo had gone on those dates, and…he

was nice, but dating him had been a

mistake. It had interfered with their

working relationship, and while she’d

had fun, Leo had tried to move much too

fast for her.

"Is this McCann?" Leo demanded.

Tess started to open her mouth, but

Quinn raised one dark eyebrow, his

attention on Leo. "Yes, I’m Quinn

McCann. Who are you?"

And just like that, Leo moved to Tess’s

side. "I’m the man who means to marry

Tess."

***

Quinn’s mind reeled. He’d been sure that

Tess had been kidding about an

engagement ring. Despite the fact that

she’d had a crush on him when they were

teenagers—at sixteen she’d climbed on a

step stool, closed her eyes and invited

him to kiss her—they had survived all of

that and had been teasing each other all

the years since. At least during the few

days they actually saw each other every

few years. He thought he knew her pretty

well, but despite the fact that she’d been

grown up for a long time, he’d never

really thought about her dating other

men. Even though, of course, she would

be.

Tess had grown from a long twig of a girl

into an awkward, gangly but pretty

young adult, and now she was a tall,

shapely full-fledged woman. With curves

that any man would want to explore and

with legs that could make a man’s mouth

go dry. And a man, apparently, who

intended to marry her. Quinn struggled to

take all of that in without visibly reacting

to it. Tess was a perceptive woman and

not one to beat around the bush. If he

reacted the wrong way, she would jump

right on that.

"I’m…glad to meet you, Leo," he said.

Even though, for some reason, he wasn’t.

"Leo, stop telling people we’re getting

married," she said.

"I didn’t. I said that I intended to marry

you. You know that. I’ve made no secret

of it, sweetheart."

"Leo, calling me sweetheart on the job is

totally inappropriate. Especially when

you do it in front of other people and

when I’ve asked you not to."

"There were no other people around

when you told me that the other day."

"There were…there were cows."

She glanced toward Quinn, daring him to

say just one word. He fought his smile.

"Animals are very perceptive," she said,

directing her words toward him rather

than Leo.

"I know that, hon," Leo said. "I work

with them all day, and—"

"Speaking of work, why are you here?"

she asked suddenly. Then she looked at

him more closely. "Your arm, Leo," she

said, and all trace of irritation and

embarrassment fled. Leo’s arm was in a

black sling, and no matter what Tess’s

relationship was to him, good or bad

or…almost engaged, Quinn thought

grimly, Tess had always been a softie.

Darth Vader could come in with his arm

in a sling and she would coo and fuss

over him. "Let me look at it. Is it cut?"

She reached out to touch, and Leo

flinched away. "It’s fine. It hurts like hell

right now, but it’s just a sprain, and it’ll

be better real quick. The arm’s the reason

I’m here," he said. "I thought you might

hear about it and I just wanted to let you

know that I still intend to help you set up

for the celebration."

Tess crossed her arms. "The celebration

is the day after tomorrow and setup is

tomorrow. You’re not helping."

The man got a mutinous look in his eyes.

"I’m the man."

Uh-oh, Quinn thought, then realized that

Tess was glaring at him, not at Leo. Had

he laughed? Well, maybe just a little, but

anyone who knew Tess at all knew that a

guy never said, "I’m the man."

"Out," she said, pointing toward the door

and gesturing to Leo. "Now."

Leo, startled, backed into a bookcase and

jostled his arm. He winced, and Tess

looked worried. "Go take care of your

arm, Leo. Please."

"Okay, hon," he said, and he dove in for

a quick peck on the lips, missing only

slightly and hitting her half on the cheek

before winking at her and leaving.

"Mine," he mimed to Quinn just before

he left the room.

Background check, Quinn thought. Uncle

Henry was far too trusting. This guy

could be anybody. He could be trouble,

and he had designs on Tess. Before I

leave here I’m doing a background check

on him, Quinn decided. He knew all

about men who were trouble.

Heck, he had always been trouble, so he

knew the signs. And no troublemaking

son of a gun was going to get close

enough to hurt Tess. He’d make sure of

that.

Chapter Two

Print this Page

Tess had never been a shy person, but

she felt perfectly awkward walking into

the living room, knowing that Quinn

would be there with Henry and he would

be operating from the assumption that

she and Leo were an item. Over the years

since she’d first met Quinn they had

sparred, she had once stupidly let him

know she had a crush on him and she’d

watched other girls walk away with him.

At least for the short time he

datedany woman before deciding things

were getting too serious. But somehow,

even with him visiting a few weeks every

couple of summers over the past fourteen

years, she’d never been dating anyone

when he’d been in Montana.

The truth was that she wasn’t seriously

dating right now, but it occurred to her

that she probably should be. Leo wasn’t a

man she could ever love deeply, but he

wasn’t a bad man, either. And there had

been others. Other chances for marriage

she’d turned down. All because…

"Tess, you shouldn’t have worked so

late. Come on in and visit with me and

Quinn. We see him so seldom," Henry

said with that big hearty voice of his. Not

for the first time, Tess wondered why

Henry had never married. He couldn’t be

more than sixty and despite his slight

portliness he wasn’t unattractive. He had

a big ranch, and women liked him.

Maybe Henry had a female version of

Quinn in his past, someone who stayed in

his thoughts and made it impossible for

him to move on. Maybe she didn’t want

to end up like Henry, alone when she was

pushing sixty. She needed to move on

and make a life for herself that didn’t

include Quinn.

"Can’t stay, Henry," she said. "I have

work to do."

"Work?" Quinn asked, raising his left

brow. "I thought you were done for the

day."

"It’s this darn celebration," Henry told

him. "She’s determined that it’s going to

be perfect."

"It will be perfect, Henry, even if things

go wrong," she said. "You’ll be there.

That’s all we really need. Except maybe

someone to help set up tomorrow. All my

volunteers are too old to climb ladders

and lift the heavy stuff, so I’ve got to go

shake the bushes and see if I can find

someone willing to help me on short

notice."

"You know that’s not necessary," Quinn

said in that deep voice that had always

done terrible, wonderful things to her.

"I’ve got two good hands and a strong

back."

She gave him an "are you kidding?" look.

"You graduated from hard manual labor

a long time ago, Quinn. I see references

to your businesses online whenever

you’re expanding your chain of garages.

During the past year you’ve gone

international. France, Belgium, Spain,

Japan. No manual labor for you."

Why was she goading him that way when

she knew he would only push back? She

didn’t want him to help her. She didn’t

want to spend any time with him in a

room decorated for romance when she’d

never been able to resist thinking of him

romantically. When she knew that full-

time romance was the last thing he ever

wanted. And yet, she’d never been able

to resist walking right into the fire where

he was concerned.

"Are you trying to goad me into beating

my chest and declaring that I’m a man

and I’ll prove it to you, Tess?" Quinn

teased. "I thought you didn’t like that

kind of thing."

She hoped she wasn’t blushing. "I don’t.

I’m not. I just…" Then she remembered

again why she shouldn’t be manipulating

Quinn into helping her. "I

really don’t think it’s a good idea for you

to help me," she said, getting firm with

herself and him. "I’ve really gone

overboard with the Valentine’s Day

theme. I want it to be romantic for the

couples who show up." She looked to the

side and saw that Henry was starting to

drift off in his easy chair, so she

motioned Quinn outside onto the

veranda. "You know you’ll be uneasy in

a setting like that."

"I’m a big boy. A grown man. I’m over

it."

"If you were over it, you wouldn’t have

such an aversion to love and marriage."

***

Quinn studied Tess, her blue eyes darker

and intense. There she went again, going

all nurturing on him. She’d always been

like that, and it had been more than he

could take. His throat had always started

to close up, his chest had felt tight and

painful, and the ensuing panic had

overtaken him. Every time. He couldn’t

allow anyone to get that close to him.

Caring too much for one person meant

risking losing that person, and he’d been

a front-row witness to how loss could

destroy a person’s soul.

He knew he’d hurt Tess at times by

simply blocking her out or walking away.

She’d never chided him for staying away

from Henry or from her and his other

friends for two years at a stretch, and yet

he knew she felt it was wrong. She was

right, but staying in one place too long

wasn’t an option. The moment anything

began to look permanent or too

emotionally demanding, he always

turned his back. Always.

"Okay, I’m over the avoidance of

the symbols associated with the day I was

born," he clarified. "That doesn’t mean

I’ve forgotten what it was like to watch

my father die every year at this time. He

told me about my mother’s death one

time, most likely in an attempt to explain

why he couldn’t celebrate my birth or

love me the way he should."

Quinn realized that he’d never shared the

story with Tess, even though he was sure

she knew it. His beautiful, French-born

mother, who had somehow fallen for his

tough, street-smart Chicagoan father, had

been crossing a street, nearly nine

months pregnant. She’d turned to wave

to her husband and had walked straight

into the path of a turning car. Her baby

had been saved, but she had not, and

Quinn’s father had slowly melted in on

himself over the years. He’d shut himself

up in his room every Valentine’s Day

that Quinn could remember. Romance,

loving too much, had destroyed him and

nearly destroyed Quinn, too, until Henry

stepped in and saved his butt and his

sanity. So no, Quinn would never be a

fan of the day or of the sentiment. He

wasn’t going to allow himself to feel so

deeply about someone that losing them

could ruin his life. Still, that didn’t mean

he wanted Tess to feel guilty about

celebrating Henry’s day and his

accomplishments.

"I’m a grown-up now, Tess. I can handle

the demands of the day. And don’t give

me that ’you’re too soft, Quinn,’ routine.

You know darn well that I love to roll

around in the dirt."

She studied him, a half smile on her face.

"I don’t think rolling around in the dirt

will be required, but all right. I can make

good use of your hands." She looked

down at his hands as she spoke, and

suddenly her words, the dusk, the quiet,

seemed to give new meaning to what she

had said. Quinn had an almost

overwhelming urge to touch her.

Bad idea. Horrible idea. But he did it

anyway. Reaching out, he touched just

one finger to her cheek, snagging a blond

curl and tucking it behind her ear.

She shivered, and he groaned. He

realized what a major mistake it had been

to come back this time. Or at least it had

been a mistake to get closer than a

room’s width to Tess. In the past when

he’d returned, he’d kept moving, going

out with old friends, guys he’d known, or

even women. He’d kept his distance from

Tess as much as possible, kept things

light at other times. What was different

now?

Maybe it was the personal nature of why

they were together, coming together over

Henry. And maybe it was because having

Leo ogling her had made it impossible to

think of Tess as anything but a desirable

woman.

"Don’t," she said as he raked a thumb

across her lips.

"Don’t touch you?" he asked on a groan.

"Yes," she said, but she was shaking her

head no. "Don’t." And for half a second

he thought he heard the softest of

murmurs that sounded like "Don’t stop."

But he could see from her devastated

expression that he was wrong. She

wanted him to back away.

Quinn lowered his hand to his side. He

turned and walked out into the night.

"What time at the hall tomorrow?"

"Seven o’clock," she said, her voice

shaky.

"I’ll be there." And not one second

sooner.

***

All the other volunteers were decorating

the hallway and entrance to the building.

Left alone with Quinn, Tess had to make

an effort to keep her hands from shaking

while she worked side-by-side with him,

and that wasn’t like her. She’d never

been the nervous type. She was, as Quinn

had said, the bossy type. Or, in the past,

he’d called her mouthy. Despite her

darned awareness of his nearness, she

couldn’t keep from smiling at that

thought.

"What are you smiling at, Tess?"

She looked down to where Quinn was

folding napkins, his fingers incredibly

nimble for a man with such big, strong

hands. Her breathing quickened. She

fought the sensation and forced herself to

keep things light. The way they’d always

been. "Nothing much," she lied.

"Thinking about Leo, maybe? Are you

going to marry him?"

Okay, moment of truth, she thought,

pausing in her task. Do it. Create some

distance, she ordered herself. "I’m going

to marry someone someday," she said.

She wanted love, a husband, babies.

"Leo’s a good man." Which wasn’t

exactly the same as saying she would

marry him.

"But you won’t marry him."

She frowned. "Why are you so sure of

that?"

Quinn stared down at her with those hot

green eyes of his that had slain so many

unfortunate women. "He’s not right for

you. You’d eat him alive. You’re

smarter, stronger, better. He’s not good

enough for you."

"Who is, then?"

He studied her, angling his head and

looking at her as if the answer were

written in her eyes. "Maybe no one."

Her heart sank. "Quinn," she said, a stern

sound in her voice. "That’s a terrible

answer. No woman wants to be that

good. Being good doesn’t keep a woman

warm on a cold Montana night." She said

it teasingly, but the teasing was just for

show.

Still, he smiled, that same smile that had

made her shiver so many times before.

"I’ve never been here in the winter

before. It’s cold today, but…just how

cold does it get?"

"Really cold. Icicles-hanging-from-your-

nose cold."

"Hmm, that’s pretty rough stuff. How do

you handle it? I’ve never even thought

about you freezing to death out here."

The self-derision in his voice, the

wonder, the concern made her want to

lean close. She fought it. Stay tough,

Aldridge, she warned herself. Stay

immune and…distant. Keep it light.

"We try to keep warm," she joked. "We

do things to keep our minds off the cold."

She waved her hand around, and

somehow it bumped into Quinn. He

caught her fingers, curved his palm

around her hand. As long as they’d

known each other, they’d seldom

touched, so every moment was

memorable. That must be the reason her

heart was beating so hard.

"You do things to keep your mind off the

cold," he said, drawing her hand against

the warmth of his chest. "Things like…

this?"

He gave a slight tug, bent his head,

cupped her jaw with his big palm.

Tess swallowed hard. Quinn is going to

kiss me, she thought. If he does, I’ll get

hurt. I should stop him. I should back

away, tell him no. She put out her palm

to stop him.

Chapter Three

Print this Page

Quinn’s heart nearly stopped beating as

Tess placed her hand against his chest as

if she was going to push him away. Then

she curled her fingers into her palm and

slid her hand up, curving her arm around

his neck.

She waited. Her body was touching his,

making him insane, but he knew that she

wouldn’t be the one to take the next step.

She was probably remembering that

long-ago day when she’d pressed her soft

teenage lips to his and he had gently put

her aside and told her that she didn’t

want to do something they’d both regret.

It had been the only thing he could think

of to say when he’d really wanted to kiss

her. Even then, he had known that

starting something with Tess could ruin

both their lives forever. They’d lose their

friendship, things would change,

someone would get hurt. None of that

had changed at all, but…she had said she

would marry someone. Someone would

kiss her, keep her warm in the cold. I’ll

never get to kiss her after tonight, Quinn

thought.

The thought made him crazy, hot, wild.

He crushed her to him. Too fiercely at

first, as he fought to gentle his touch.

Her lips were crazy soft. They made him

want more. He dragged her closer, tasted

more, deeper. His heart was trying to

beat its way out of his body. Suddenly he

heard the scuffle of a shoe on tile across

the room.

Tess jumped back as if she’d just

discovered she’d been kissing a cobra.

"Tess? Quinn?" Hayley Niles stood in the

doorway leading from the hall and she

seemed uncertain of what to do or say.

Who could blame her? He had practically

been ready to sweep the napkins off the

table and crawl on top of it with Tess in

his arms.

"Sorry, Hayley. Just testing to make sure

the Valentine’s decorations created the

right mood. They do."

The older woman chuckled and went

back to whatever she was doing. Crisis

averted…except he was still breathing

heavy. Tess still looked as if she wished

she could go back and redo the past few

minutes. Heck, he did, too. That kiss had

been…unbelievable, wild, wonderful, but

not smart. "Should I apologize?" he

asked. "I didn’t exactly give you a choice

there."

Tess shook her head. "No." But she still

looked a bit shaky.

"You sure you’re okay? I could kick

myself for messing with you."

Those pretty pink lips turned down in a

frown. "It was just a kiss, Quinn. No big

deal. It was… It was…nice."

Nice. Nice? Quinn’s immediate reaction

was to reach out, grab her and try again.

It had been a lot more than nice. It had

been hot, heavy and…maybe he was

basing his assumptions on the fact that

he’d known her since she was a girl.

Maybe he was remembering her innocent

crush on him, and maybe she’d done a lot

of kissing since then with guys like Leo.

Had she been that unaffected while he’d

been losing his mind?

Quinn wanted to kick something, and he

didn’t want to think about why. Instead,

he forced a smile, excused himself and

went off to help some of the ladies who

needed him to move some tables.

***

Tess felt as if her entire body was aflame,

as if even her brain was on fire. Maybe it

was, because she certainly wasn’t

thinking straight. All she could think

about was Quinn’s mouth, his arms, his

hard, muscled body up against hers.

His…heat. She wanted a do-over, but

whether she wanted to reverse time so

that they hadn’t kissed or whether she

wanted him to kiss her again, maybe

about twenty more times…she refused to

even speculate. Because no matter what

she wanted, she wasn’t going to get it.

She knew that all too well. She’d been

half in love with Quinn from the day he

first entered her life, even though he’d

only been a cocky, too-tough boy and

she’d been a gawky, mouthy girl. But

young as she’d been, she’d known from

the get-go that he wasn’t available. She’d

had to keep all her thoughts and feelings

locked inside with only her diary as

witness. That had helped, until she

realized the journaling was only

perpetuating her stupid infatuation. That

was the day she’d kissed him, and he’d

looked horrified, and she’d known what

the word never really meant. Quinn

would never be hers, so she should just

erase that kiss from her thoughts.

Tess raised her hand. Without thinking,

she was nearly on the verge of swiping it

against her mouth as if to put thought to

deed, literally, when she glanced up and

saw Quinn frowning at her. Quickly, she

lowered her hand, bent her head and

returned to work.

She didn’t look up again until she had to

cross the room to check on the setup of

the head table.

"Here, let me help you, sweetheart."

Tess jerked her head up to see Quinn

helping elderly Mrs. Biggs, who could

barely walk, place a centerpiece in the

middle of the table. "Thank you, dear.

You’re such a nice man," Mrs. Biggs was

saying. Was the woman blushing? Yes,

she was, and…well, why not? She had a

handsome man calling her sweetheart

and jumping to her tune.

"Did you make these, Lorinda?" Quinn

asked. "That’s some fine craftsmanship,

and believe me I know. I deal with fine

craftsmanship every day in my garages.

Cars or floral arrangements, same

difference. Style is style. You’ve got the

touch."

Lorinda beamed. She looked a little less

tired and old.

Tess’s heart clenched. For the next half

hour she worked, but she also watched

Quinn circle the room, offering to help

where he could, praising the elderly

women and men, Henry’s friends, who

had shown up to make something special

for Henry’s big event. Quinn made them

feel important and not in a

condescending way. She got the feeling

that he was really enjoying himself,

except for the few times he glanced her

way. Then he simply looked troubled.

She couldn’t have that. He was worrying

about her, most likely concerned that he

had sent the wrong message and that she

was now thinking loopy, romantic

thoughts about him. Time to end all of

that. Maybe she should consider Leo

more seriously, or at least try harder to

find a man she could love who was really

available. Maybe Quinn needed to hear

her say that as if she meant it.

"Break time," she said, coming up beside

him as he finished carrying in some

heavy bags of supplies.

"Break time?"

Okay, she had sounded lame. Like some

overly perky room mother shepherding

her workers. "I thought you might like a

tour of the building, to see what Henry

made here," she said. "After all, he’s

your uncle, and he put his heart into

this."

He studied her, carefully. "I’d like that

very much. Lead on, Tess."

At first she was self-conscious in a way

she’d never been with Quinn. She was

too aware of him behind her, too nervous

about what she might have revealed in

that kiss.

"Here are the living quarters. Big enough

for a few people who need some

temporary aid," she said, showing off the

big living room with four bedrooms

leading off of it. "And here’s the nursery.

Henry made sure it was fully stocked and

kid safe. Nothing that couldn’t be easily

cleaned and sanitized but all things that

would delight the little ones." She

reached up and touched a mobile made of

stars and moons.

"I’ll bet you had a hand in this. Henry’s

generous to a fault, but style isn’t his

style," Quinn said with a smile.

"I might have gotten a little involved."

That made him chuckle. "Tess, I don’t

think it’s possible for you to get only a

little involved in anything. All those

people out there have been telling me

how much effort you put into this day.

The phone calls, the extra hours, the

research you did interviewing neighbors

in order to piece together the presentation

about Henry’s life."

"I wanted it to be nice for him. He gave

my father work for years. He hired me,

he treats me like a daughter, he helps

people who need help."

"Like me."

She laughed. "You were never helpless.

And Henry gets as much enjoyment out

of you as he gives back. You’re like the

son he never had."

"You see too much."

"I see the truth." And the truth was that

Quinn had always regretted that he could

never give her what she wanted from

him. He could never stay, only kiss and

go. It was wrong to let him think any of

what she was feeling was his fault. She

didn’t want him to regret touching her.

"What I also see," she added, "is that

we’ve missed one of the best parts of the

new building. Here." She opened two

wide doors and set the doorstops so that

the doors stayed open. Inside was a state-

of-the-art gymnasium, complete with a

track, a climbing wall, exercise

equipment and a basketball court. "It’s

been a long time, Quinn," she teased.

"Since I wiped the floor with you in

basketball?" he teased back.

"Since I beat the pants off of you in a

free-throw match," she countered.

"I’m taller than you. It wouldn’t be fair,"

Quinn told her.

"Who said anything about fair? I’m all

about winning." With that, she kicked off

her shoes, grabbed a basketball from a

nearby bin and began to dribble.

"Don’t make me chase you, Tess. You’ll

fall without shoes. And you’re wearing a

skirt. I have an edge."

"Excuses, excuses," she taunted,

knowing she was acting childish. But she

so badly needed to get past the kiss and

return to their old teasing ways. She

couldn’t survive loving Quinn any other

way. She dribbled toward the basket,

looping past him, barely out of his reach,

daring him, practically begging him to

play along, to help her fix things and

make them right again. Or at least as

right as they had ever been.

"You sure you want this?" he asked, and

the note in his voice seemed too serious.

"This is all I want," she promised. Her

words should have made him smile and

they did for half a second before he

looked concerned again. But then he

flashed a big smile and began to guard

her.

She pivoted and twisted and ducked

under his arm, sending the ball in a

curving arc that swished through the

basket.

"Oh, you’re good, Tess," he whispered,

his voice sounding more like a man

talking about making love than playing

basketball.

She swallowed hard. "I know I am," she

said in an answering whisper, forcing a

wicked smile to her lips.

The battle was on. They traded shots. She

ducked and dodged. He used his superior

reach and those long arms and legs made

for jumping and throwing. She was going

in for a shot that would tie the game

when her feet slipped and she stumbled

against Quinn. They went down together.

He landed hard on his back and she fell

on top of him, sprawling. But in her

struggle to get up, she touched warm,

bare skin where a button on his shirt had

twisted off in the fracas. And for the life

of her, she couldn’t push herself away.

She flattened her palm against his chest,

splayed her fingers, looked into his green

eyes only inches away from hers. His

mouth was so close. So very close and he

was lifting his head even closer, so…in a

second…in just a second…she was going

to be lost…

A loud sound sent both of them turning

toward the door. Henry was standing

there. Beside him, a bucket he must have

been carrying was rolling on its side. "I

see that I arrived just in time," he said.

"Who won?"

Chapter Four

Print this Page

"Tess won," Quinn said instantly, even

though he had still been a point ahead of

her. "You know, she’s got that extra

something."

Which was true in a lot of ways, he

couldn’t help thinking the next evening

when Henry’s party was in full swing

and Tess seemed to be everywhere at

once. Tending to people. Smoothing over

the rough spots and the glitches. Making

sure that every detail was perfect. The

food. The slide show. The music. The

guests. And even him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a note of

concern in her voice. "It finally occurred

to me—too late—that it was rude of me

to throw this party on a day that might

make you sad."

He hated the fact that she was fussing

over him as if he were a child who

needed soothing, even though he knew

that wasn’t fair. Tess was just being Tess.

Caring. Helping. The fact that she was

talking to him like a child and not like a

man who had burned for her only

yesterday… That was just wrong of him.

She had obviously taken a big step back,

and he couldn’t fault her for that.

"I’m great," he said with a big grin.

Which might have been a mistake. Now

she was looking worried. "I’m not the

person who needs fussing over," he said,

putting his hands on her shoulders. "You

need to sit down for a minute. Visit.

Enjoy the evening."

She opened her mouth to protest, and he

turned her slightly. "Don, could you

make sure that Tess eats her dinner?

She’ll just protest if I tell her to, but

you’re her favorite veterinarian. You

cured her puppy and were there to bring

Skylar, her horse, into the world. Your

word is law to her. If you tell her to eat,

she’ll sit down for at least five minutes."

An older man at the next table laughed.

"Is Tess being stubborn, Quinn? Maybe

you just didn’t ask her in the right way."

"Maybe you should kiss her again,"

Don’s wife said, and Quinn felt Tess jerk

beneath his hands.

"That was just…nothing," Tess said.

"You know, Quinn and I have known

each other for years. And okay, I’ll eat."

She sat down, picked up a fork and began

to eat, her demeanor so docile that Quinn

knew she just wanted to move on and

forget yesterday.

"Good girl," he said, just as if she were

still fourteen. His words should have

elicited a protest or even a kick in the

shins, but she didn’t even look

up. Because she’s a woman now, you

idiot, he told himself. There was no

putting the genie back in the bottle. Tess

had grown into a beautiful woman. One

who deserved a good man, not one who

had spent a good portion of his life acting

out, breaking his father’s heart even more

than it had been broken already and

kissing women and then leaving them

behind the minute they got too close. He

knew how to make people feel good in

the short term, but he was trouble once

the days started turning into weeks and

months.

"Catch you later, Tess," he said, moving

off to the perimeter of the room. His

uncle was dancing with a fifty-something

woman and Henry was in his glory, a

man who had always lived life to the

fullest. Quinn’s heart lifted a little. Henry

had been very good to a messed-up kid,

even though Quinn had fought his

uncle’s rules. He deserved every

accolade he was getting tonight.

"Everything okay with Tess?" Henry

asked, coming off the dance floor.

Quinn knew that Henry hadn’t been

fooled by their casual dismissal of that

episode on the basketball court

yesterday.

"I wouldn’t hurt her for anything," he

told his uncle.

"Good. Man to man? I love you, Quinn,

but you’re hard on women. If you hurt

Tess, I’d have to take my cane to you

again."

Which he never had done. Henry was far

too gentle for that.

"I’d take a cane to myself before I hurt

her. But you don’t have to worry. Tess

isn’t a young, impressionable girl

anymore, Uncle. She has men pursuing

her, and she’s not interested in the guy

who used to torment her by pulling her

braid or telling her that she was a pain in

the butt and should get out of his room."

"Yes, she’s all grown up," Henry said,

and he sounded sad. "She’ll probably

marry soon."

Quinn knew that Henry was thinking the

same thing that he was. Tess would

belong to another man then, not to the

two of them. He patted his uncle’s arm.

"But tonight is yours—Tess is going full

steam and Arlene Wooten is making a

beeline for you. She has her dancing

shoes on."

His uncle laughed and turned back to

dance. Quinn continued his circle of the

room, his avoiding-Tess-and-thoughts-

of-Tess circle. Still, staying away too

long would be too noticeable, and he was

just getting ready to turn back when he

heard a familiar laugh.

"Don’t worry. Tess is going to marry me.

She just doesn’t know it yet."

Quinn looked toward Leo and saw Leo’s

friend staring back at him. "I don’t know.

Tess is pretty strong-minded," the friend

told Leo.

"She won’t be like that forever. You just

have to know how to handle someone

like Tess. I’m good at breaking horses

and even better at taming women. She’s

the one I want. Pretty, and she knows her

horses, knows how to run a ranch and

keep the books. The mouth and the

attitude can be worked on. Once I get her

pregnant, she’ll settle down and be

calmer."

Quinn was surprised at how quickly the

anger hit him. Despite his footloose and

thoughtless ways, he had never been a

violent man. But he wanted to plant his

fist into Leo’s face right now. The man

might like Tess, but not all of Tess. He

wanted to change her. That made him a

jerk in Quinn’s eyes. Any man who

wanted Tess had to want her all the way

—sassy mouth, stubborn attitude and all.

Like I do. The thought slammed into him.

Too bad for you. The next thought

followed quickly. He still wanted to hit

Leo, but this wasn’t the time or place,

and Tess was the one he needed to be

concerned with right now. She might be

falling in love with the jackass. She

needed to be set straight.

And she won’t thank you for the message.

She’ll probably kick you in the shins and

tell you where to get off.

The thought made him smile. He relished

battling with Tess.

***

Tess was tired. The evening was turning

out just as she’d planned, but the strain of

trying to pretend that she was unaffected

by Quinn’s touch was taking its toll.

Only until tomorrow, she thought. Then

he’ll be gone again. The pain was like a

living thing. You’d think she’d be used

to watching him walk away, and she was,

but it was different now. This time she

knew more of what she was being

denied.

"Hey, there. You need to get off your

feet." Quinn’s deep voice came from

behind her. She turned to see him giving

her a worried look.

"You know me. Go, go, go."

"Yeah, I do. You take care of everyone

but you. Come on."

"Where."

"Outside."

"I can’t leave. The slide show—"

"Won’t go on until you’re ready. People

are dancing and having fun. You can

snag a few minutes to breathe and get

some fresh air."

"Quinn, it’s February and cold in case

you’ve forgotten."

"That’s why we’re taking a coat." She

was surprised to see him pick up the right

one as they passed the coatroom. He

hadn’t been with her when they arrived.

"How do you know that’s mine?"

He gave her an "are you kidding me?"

look. "It has a huge ‘Cowgirl Up’ button

on the lapel, the coat isn’t boring black or

brown, like everyone else’s, and there’s a

bright pink scarf with it. Gotta be yours."

It was, but her heart hurt to think that he

knew her that well. "Well, you could

have asked," she said stubbornly, making

him laugh.

"I love your mouthy ways," he said.

Which wasn’t nearly the same as loving

someone. It was a lot like saying, "I love

chocolate," wasn’t it? Tess’s heart hurt

more.

"That’s kind of a backhanded

compliment, isn’t it, Quinn?" she said,

trying to tease.

"She never lets up," he muttered, but he

was still smiling as he said it. Then he

took her hand in his and led her out the

door. She wasn’t wearing gloves, and

Quinn’s warmth, the sureness of his

grip…she wanted to save up the feeling

to remember later. Stupid, she thought.

Hadn’t she just told herself that she

needed to move on? Yes, and nothing

had changed.

But she was wrong. As soon as they were

out the door and across the parking lot to

where a brand-new playground set was

located, she saw that Quinn wasn’t

smiling anymore.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Don’t marry him, Tess. I know we

talked about this already, but don’t. He’s

not the man for you."

"You want to give a reason for that?"

"Not really. Let’s just say that my

conviction that he isn’t good enough for

you has been confirmed."

She raised her brows. "Is Leo cheating?

Not that he could be, since we aren’t that

far along, but…"

"I don’t think I want to hear the details of

how far along you are."

"I’m just saying…"

"Don’t."

"Have I told you lately how infuriating

you are, Quinn? You drag me out here,

obviously to discuss Leo, and then you

don’t want to discuss him. Us. Leo and

me."

"Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,"

he agreed. "I don’t want to discuss Leo

and you other than to say that there are

better men than him out there, and you

should choose one of them."

Tess looked at Quinn with sadness and

frustration. She’d finally been in Quinn’s

arms, felt his kiss, and he was counseling

her about marrying other men. "If not

Leo, then who is good enough for me,

Quinn? You?"

"No. I’m not good."

His automatic response, his utter

conviction cut at her. "I’ve heard you say

that before and I know why," she said,

crossing her arms in front of her. "But

I’m not buying it. I never have. You

didn’t kill your mother, Quinn."

He didn’t even blink. "Maybe not, but I

saw how difficult my father’s life was

because she died and I was all he got to

keep. He never recovered from her death.

His life ended that day. And even

knowing that, I acted out and made his

life even harder. I got in trouble all the

time.

"You said that you were all he got to

keep, as if you didn’t matter. Did he

abuse you?"

"No. He loved me."

"If he loved you, then his life wasn’t over

when your mother died. You were

important to him, just as you are to

Henry. You’re important to a lot of

people."

His eyes seemed to see too much. She’d

said too much. "I’ll bet you matter to a

lot of people," she corrected.

Quinn raised one hand, stroked it down

the back of her cheek. "Don’t let me hurt

you, Tess."

She bit at her lip. "I never have." Her

words came out too soft as she told the

lie. "I… Enough about me. This is

supposed to be a celebration, so…happy

birthday, Quinn," she said. "I know you

don’t celebrate it, but I’m celebrating it. I

hope you’ve had some happiness today. I

really do."

He shook his head. "Look at you. I’ve

teased you mercilessly over the years.

I’ve bossed you around, even tried to tell

you who not to marry," he said. "Why

would you turn around and be nice to

me?"

Tess managed to smile. "If you don’t

understand that, then you don’t know me

very well and you don’t know yourself so

well, either."

"Ah, I see. But you think you know me,"

he surmised.

"I do."

"What do you know then, Tess?"

She fought against her breaking heart. "I

know lots of things, but most of all, I

know that you’re leaving."

They stood there gazing into each other’s

eyes. "I wish…" he said, and then he

stopped.

"What? What do you wish?"

He shook his head. He reached out and

smoothed a stray curl off her forehead. "I

wish you a happy life," he told her and he

gently kissed her lips.

Silently, they turned together and went

back inside. She knew that by morning

he would be gone. It had happened

before, but this time it was different.

They’d crossed a line. He wasn’t coming

back. She was sure of it. And she was

equally sure that she had to end things

right, do something to make his life

happier. Somehow.

Chapter Five

Print this Page

Quinn had been miserable ever since he

got back to Chicago. Something had

happened in Montana with Tess,

something he’d never allowed to happen

before. He’d let his guard down. And

then he’d touched her, kissed her and,

ultimately, made her sad, he thought,

remembering how she’d looked at him.

What’s more, she’d gotten into his mind

and his heart, and now he couldn’t stop

thinking about her.

"Tough," he muttered to himself. "Get

used to the feeling. You don’t get to go

back and mess up Tess’s life. She’ll find

someone right for her." And probably

soon. Who could resist someone with

Tess’s beauty and spirit?

So, he worked. He tried not to think of

her and refused to allow himself to call

her. What could he say, anyway? Don’t

marry the cowboy? Marry me, a guy

who’s crippled emotionally and will

surely break your heart?

"Get out of here, McCann," he ordered

himself. "Get to work. Think about

something other than Tess."

He tried. He clicked on airline Web sites

and nearly bought a ticket to Montana,

then managed not to. Every day he

fought the same battles, and on the

outside, things looked great. His business

was thriving. He had money. If he

wanted to, he could have women, but the

thought of another woman’s lips after

Tess’s? Not happening.

Then one night he came home in a mood

to kick the table and found a package in

his mailbox. It was from Montana. Tess’s

name was on the return address. He tore

into it, ripped open the box and found

several small books. Diaries. A note was

attached.

"A belated birthday present: there are

parts of these I want to share with you.

Tess."

That was all. Quinn sank into a chair. He

looked at the dates on the diaries, flipped

the first one open. It began the summer

he had first arrived in Montana. Parts of

it were blacked out in permanent marker.

He couldn’t help smiling at that and

wondering what secrets Tess had found

too embarrassing to share with him. Not

your business, McCann, he thought. Just

read the parts she wants you to read.

He did. He read the first entry that began

like this: "Quinn saved Bumper’s life

today. He’s always teased me about my

dog, because Bumper is pretty ugly. And

he barks too much and tries to chew on

Quinn’s hand and drew blood once. I

think he’s jealous of Quinn. But when

Bumper ran out in front of a bicycle

today, Quinn dove for him and shoved

him out of the way. The bike caught

Quinn and he got cut up pretty bad, but

he didn’t even complain."

And then there was this: "Kerry Ann

Baker had a birthday party today and she

said we all had to wear dresses. I don’t

like wearing dresses. I look stupid and

skinny in them with my stick legs. I

worried that some of the boys would

make fun of me, and Quinn told me that

if even one boy looked at me funny, to

tell him and he would punch him for me.

Quinn knows I can do my own punching,

but it was still nice that he offered. I

didn’t even mind wearing a dress so

much after that. I bet even Kerry Ann—

who is super pretty—doesn’t have

someone like Quinn backing her up."

The part after that was blacked out, and

Quinn knew he shouldn’t try to read it,

but he did. It said this: "John Petrie said

that my boobs were too small, but I

didn’t tell Quinn. If he had hit John, he

might have gotten in trouble. Plus, I

didn’t want to tell Quinn about the boob

thing. He’s probably seen a lot bigger

ones, too, and I don’t want to think about

that. It makes me feel crummy."

Quinn’s heart hurt. He wished he could

go back in time and punch John Petrie—

secretly—for hurting Tess’s feelings. But

he couldn’t, and anyway, he remembered

John eyeing Tess at Uncle Henry’s party.

The man didn’t seem to have a problem

with her breasts anymore. In fact, he

probably wished Tess would let him get

close enough to examine them more

closely.

"Damn!" Quinn nearly tore the page,

thinking about John touching Tess. He

reminded himself it was his own fault

that he was angry. Those had been Tess’s

secret thoughts, and she hadn’t meant for

him to read them. He wanted to

apologize to her. Instead, he continued

reading. It was all there—years of

summers with Tess, every memory of

when he had helped her in some way, or

times when they had laughed, or once

when he’d held her while she cried when

her mother passed away. He remembered

that day so well. He’d felt utterly

helpless to help her. His arms had

seemed like such inadequate solace. But

years later, Tess had updated that entry

and noted that she couldn’t have gotten

through the day without Quinn.

It was obvious what she was doing. She

was trying to banish his ghosts, make

him believe that he had worth to her, that

he had made a difference. Wasn’t that

just like Tess? And didn’t he wish she

was here right now so he could thank her

for this gesture?

He read on, through the night. When he

got to the very last book, he realized that

she had set aside an entire diary for a

single entry. "I know you might not ever

come back, Quinn. Or, if you do, it won’t

ever be the same. You’ll always be sorry

you kissed me and treated me like all

those other girls. But I’m not sorry at all,

so don’t spend your life worrying that

you hurt me. Love, Tess."

Quinn nearly doubled over in pain. His

eyes burned and not from reading, either.

He tried to sleep and found it was

hopeless. And when morning came, he

made a decision. It might be the most

foolish, hopeless decision of his life. It

meant risking his heart, his pride and his

friendship with Tess.

He walked over to a dresser and picked

up a photo of his father that had sat there

for years. "You had more years without

her than you had with her. You tore

yourself up over her when she was gone.

I wonder… Was loving her worth all that

pain? Would you do it over again if you

had the chance to love her again, even

knowing the end?"

"I don’t know what your answer would

be, but…I know Tess," he said to his

father. "That’s all I have to go on."

Two hours later, he was on an airplane,

taking the greatest risk of his life.

***

Tess was facing the window when she

saw Quinn climb from a silver car and

walk toward the house. He was carrying

something. A package. She didn’t know

what. She didn’t care what. She just

grabbed the nearest coat and ran out the

door and down the stairs.

"Quinn, what are you doing here?" Her

heart began an erratic pounding. The

look on his face was so different from the

smiling, teasing Quinn she knew so well.

The look in his green eyes was so fierce,

so intense…. Did this have to do with her

diaries? Had there been something in

there that had made him angry?

"Quinn?"

"If John Petrie ever insults you again, I

will tear him limb from limb."

Tess blinked. She couldn’t help it…she

crossed her arms over her breasts. "You

weren’t supposed to read that."

"I know…but as I’ve told you many

times, I’m not a nice guy."

"I know. I was trying to get you to realize

that you’re wrong about that."

He stopped two feet away from her. "I

got that idea. You were very persuasive."

"Well, I…" I love you, she wanted to

say. Why are you so angry? she wanted

to say. "Quinn, why are you here?"

"I’m hoping that I can be persuasive,

too." His voice was low. The expression

in his eyes softened.

"Quinn?"

"You want to know why I came halfway

across the country? I came for this." He

reached for her, pulling her into his arms.

"Just punch me if I’m wrong, Tess. Don’t

stand for anything you don’t want." And

then his lips came down on hers. He

kissed her again and again. "Come with

me," he said.

Her heart was overflowing. She nodded.

He frowned. "Just like that. No questions

asked?"

"I figure that you’ll tell me what you

want, in time, and I do have one

question."

He waited.

"Did you really come back here just to

kiss me?"

He touched his fingertips to her lips.

"No."

Her heart plummeted, but by then he was

leading her toward his car. When he

opened the rear door, she saw that it was

packed with things. Packages, balloons,

flowers. "What’s this?" she asked.

"Years of missed opportunities. Years of

valentines I never gave you, Tess."

Pain and longing and…desperate, crazy

hope filled Tess’s soul. She was so afraid

to hope. What if he was just being nice?

"And there’s one thing more." Quinn

reached inside and pulled out a small

book. He handed it to her.

She looked at the cover. It was a diary,

brand-new. "I’m sorry there aren’t a lot

of pages," he told her. "I wanted to get to

you quickly and I was writing from

memory."

Tess opened the diary. Taking Quinn’s

hand, she led him back to the house and,

sitting down on the nearest chair, she

began to read about a skinny, sweet,

ferocious and fiercely protective young

woman and how Quinn had had to work

so hard to keep his distance from her

over and over and over, summer after

summer after summer. "I never knew it

was my own heart I was protecting," the

last page said. "I thought I was protecting

you from me. All these years, these

magic summers, I tried not to love you.

But it hasn’t worked. I love you, Tess.

And I always will, no matter the risk."

Tess looked up into Quinn’s eyes, and

tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Tess," Quinn said, pulling her up into

his arms. "I’m sorry. I’m such a jerk. I

made you cry. Is it… Do you love some

other guy? Are you… Is it Leo? Tell

me."

The tears were still flowing, and Tess hid

her face against Quinn’s chest. "Leo?"

she asked, her voice muffled. "No, you…

Quinn, you are such a frustrating man."

"I know. I’m an idiot."

"No, you’re not," she said, pulling back

to gaze up at him. "You’re wonderful.

And I love you. I’ve always loved you."

Quinn’s answering smile was brilliant.

He pulled her close and kissed her. "Will

you marry me, Tess?"

She laughed. "I think I’ve been waiting

forever to marry you. Yes."

He picked her up and twirled her around.

"Good. Because I don’t want to wait any

longer, even though I’d like to do

something romantic like marry you on

Valentine’s Day."

Tess shrieked. "Wait a whole year?

Quinn, I want to marry you now." She

rose up on her toes and kissed him.

"You amazing woman. Do you know

how much I want you?" He pulled her

closer and devoured her mouth.

"I still live in the cabin," she said when

the kiss ended. "We could take all those

presents there."

Quinn smiled down at her. "How did I

not see that you were the woman for me

all along?"

"You were just temporarily blinded with

good intentions, Quinn, but that’s all

over now."

And they quickly went back to the car

and drove off.

***

When they returned to the ranch house

hours later, Henry was there waiting. "I

saw you drive in earlier. You’ve been off

with Tess a long time. Am I going to

have to take you to the shed and teach

you a lesson, Quinn?"

"You could do that," Quinn said, smiling,

"but I’d rather you just give the bride

away."

Henry’s answer was to enfold both of

them in a hug. "It’s about time. Will

you… Where will you want to have the

wedding?" he asked, stepping back.

"Here. Home," Quinn said. "We’re

staying here…if Tess doesn’t mind."

She launched herself into Quinn’s arms.

"Yes, you wonderful man. I hope you

know that you’re the man of my dreams.

If you don’t…"

Quinn lifted one dark brow. "If I

don’t…"

She laughed. "I’ll write it in a diary."

THE END