Quinn (21 page)

There was no sense in letting him know just how tempting his offer had been, and how hard it had been for her to refuse.

As for control, she was hanging on to hers by a thread.

A
s Cheyenne turned the truck onto the lane leading to her ranch, she fell silent. The closer she got, the more quiet she became.

Even though she thought she was prepared, the first sight of her fire-damaged home was a terrible blow to her heart.

Debris was strewn about the yard. The misshapen remains of the hot-water heater and furnace had been piled into one of the hay wagons. Several wranglers, apparently brought down from the high country to assist in the cleanup, were busy tearing out charred walls and flooring. The back door had been removed, and in the unheated utility room icicles hung from the charred beams.

Cheyenne brought the truck to a stop but made no move to step out.

Seeing the stricken look on her face, Quinn was out in a flash, circling the truck and opening the driver’s side
door. Taking her hand, he kept hold of it as they walked side by side toward the house.

“Remember that this is only the first step. Before things can get better, they’ll probably get much worse.”

She shook her head in denial. “I can’t imagine anything worse than this, Quinn.”

“It’s superficial.” He pointed. “The structure is still sound. With new floors, new walls, new windows, and new appliances—”

He heard her deep sigh of impatience.

“I know. It sounds like a lot, but think of this: As you move forward, you get to incorporate any changes or improvements that you’ve ever wanted and wished you had.”

“Like the conveniences I saw in your mudroom.”

“Exactly. In the words of Big Jim, turn this disaster into the deal of a lifetime. Make it a winning proposition.”

She squeezed his hand. “Okay. I get it. Think like a Conway.”

“That’s it.”

She took a deep breath. “Now to see what progress has been made.”

They stepped inside, walking gingerly over floors littered with pieces of drywall and charred wood. The walls were being stripped down to the studs.

In the midst of the chaos stood Wes Mason, directing a crew of wranglers.

He looked over. “Hey, Cheyenne. Quinn. The insurance appraiser is inside with Austin.”

Cheyenne and Quinn moved past the workers and, finding the kitchen empty, climbed the stairs to find the inspector, along with Austin, in the upper hallway.

“Hey, Cheyenne.” Austin turned to the man beside him. “Lyle, this is the ranch owner, Cheyenne O’Brien.”

Cheyenne offered a handshake.

“Lyle Worthy, Miss O’Brien.” The man wore a heavy parka and work boots. Thick, round glasses gave him an owlish appearance as he stared around at the destruction. In his hands was a clipboard on which he had already made several notations.

“Lyle, this is Quinn—”

“Conway.” The inspector stuck out his hand while explaining to the others, “I’ve known Quinn and his family for years. I guess there isn’t anyone in these parts that hasn’t met one or more of the Conways.”

The two men greeted each other before the inspector returned his attention to his clipboard. “Austin was just answering my questions, Miss O’Brien. Now that you’re here, you can help me fill in some blanks.”

“I’d be happy to.”

As they descended the stairs the inspector said, “I’d hoped to have a look before the debris was removed, but your men got an early start and I was delayed. Because the furnace and hot-water heater were removed before I got here, I can’t be certain just how or why the fire started, but I can tell you that it started in your utility room. For the record, Wes Mason told me that there were what appeared to be charred rags near the furnace, but they’d been removed along with the rest of the debris and nobody can seem to find them. Without them, I’m unable to conduct tests to see if an accelerant may have been used.”

“You think this was deliberately set?”

He shook his head. “I’m not saying that at all. This is a working ranch. Rags are frequently left after a cleanup.
But a test could have told me if there was a foreign substance on them.”

When they reached the kitchen Lyle Worthy paused to look at his clipboard. “My report will state that a person of interest was spotted nearby shortly before the fire started.”

“A person of interest?”

He peered at Cheyenne over his glasses. “Deacon Vance.”

She gave a quick shake of her head. “Deke’s family ranch isn’t far from here. Several of us share open rangeland. He has every right to be seen nearby.”

“My job is to report everything of interest. If there is even a hint of arson, I would be remiss if I left anything out of my report.”

Cheyenne nodded. “Of course. I understand. But I know Deke and his family. He would have no reason to want me harmed.”

Lyle dipped his head and gave her another long look over the rim of his glasses. “Austin tells me that Deacon Vance was caught stealing from your family, and that he was ordered to stay away.”

“That was several years ago. Since then there’s been no contact between us. Besides, arson is quite a leap from petty theft.”

“Two hundred dollars isn’t petty. And most criminal acts progress from something small to something much bigger. His name will remain in the report I send to my home office.”

In silence, he walked around the kitchen area before returning to the utility room.

Satisfied, he offered his hand to each of them before
turning to Cheyenne. “I understand that you’re forced to live away from home until heat and hot water can be restored. I’ll authorize a payment as soon as I return to town so that you can begin rebuilding immediately.”

“Thank you. I’m grateful for the help.”

“That’s my job, Miss O’Brien. Good luck.” He nodded toward the pile of debris in the hay wagon. “If you happen to find those rags, bag them and send them along to me for lab tests. That would certainly help me get a report back to you.”

When he was gone, Cheyenne turned to Wes. “Thanks for getting on this cleanup so quickly.”

“It was Austin’s idea. He was the driving force behind getting everything started. But we all wanted to help in any way we could.” He closed a hand over her arm. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” She managed a smile. “I’m glad you and Micah persuaded me to go to Quinn’s ranch. I can’t imagine trying to live here while it’s like this.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty much a total mess. Have you contacted a builder?”

She shook her head. “Big Jim gave me the name of a friend of his in Paintbrush who’ll give me a fair price. I plan on stopping in there today on our way back to Quinn’s place.”

“That’s good. If the builder is a friend of Big Jim Conway, you can be assured that he’ll take good care of you.”

He nodded toward the stairs. “If there’s anything you want to retrieve from your room, you’d better do it now. We’re going to have to tear out those stairs before the day is through. After that, except for a ladder, the upper floor will be cut off until a builder replaces the staircase.”

“Thanks, Wes.” Cheyenne disappeared up the stairs.

A short time later she descended the stairs carrying a bulging suitcase.

Seeing it, the foreman said, “If you find that you need anything more, just give a holler. I can have one of the wranglers drive it over to the Conway ranch.”

“Thanks, Wes. I’ll be staying at Quinn’s ranch, but I plan on spending most days here. Between the ranch chores and the renovation, I can’t afford to be gone too long or things will start to pile up and bury me.”

Wes patted her arm. “You can count on us to pick up the slack.”

“I know. And that means the world to me.” As she turned toward the door Quinn took the suitcase from her hands.

Wes walked outside with them.

While Quinn was stowing her suitcase in the back of the truck, Micah drove out of the barn in the ranch’s stake truck.

Spotting Cheyenne, he sped toward them and parked behind her vehicle before climbing down from the driver’s side.

Leaning heavily on his cane, the old man rested a hand on her shoulder and studied her a moment. “You’re looking much better today. How’re you feeling?”

“Better than the last time you saw me,” she said with a laugh.

That had Micah smiling. “Nothing like a good night’s sleep to put everything right.”

“I don’t know about making everything right, but at least it seems less shocking than it did when it first happened.”

“And every day it will get a little better.” He turned to Quinn. “How’s your family, wolf whisperer?”

Quinn grinned at the nickname. “They’re all fine. My father and grandfather remember you, and they send their good wishes.”

“That’s nice to hear. They were good men to work for.” His eyes twinkled as he turned back to Cheyenne. “Getting spoiled over at that fine, big ranch?”

“You bet.”

He quirked one bushy brow. “And the food?”

“Not nearly as good as your cooking, Micah, but I’ll just have to make do until I move back home.”

Beside her, Quinn swallowed back his smile. It was easy to see that she was treading carefully around the old man’s feelings.

Austin glanced from Cheyenne to Quinn. “So how does it feel to be staying on the biggest ranch in Wyoming?”

Cheyenne laughed off his remark. “I don’t know if it’s the biggest, but I can admit that my first day there I could have easily lost my way. There are an awful lot of rooms in that big house.” She turned to Quinn with a smile and laid a hand on his. “I think you said there are sixteen or more.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll leave it to you to count them.”

Austin stared pointedly at her suitcase in the back of the truck. “That tells me you’re not planning on coming home any time soon.”

Cheyenne shrugged. “Just some personal stuff. I haven’t set a timetable on my return. But I figure, if I have to be away from home, I’ll take my home with me.”

That had Micah nodding in agreement. “No matter how comfortable you get over at the Conway place, I’m betting you won’t be able to stay away for even one day.”

“You’d win that bet.” She brushed a kiss on his cheek.

“Come on,” Micah called to Austin. “If we’re going to head to town, we’d better get moving.” He tossed the keys to the younger man before they settled themselves in the stake truck and drove off.

Cheyenne postponed her departure to pay a visit to the barn to check out the cow and her calf. Satisfied that the calf was thriving, Cheyenne looked around and noted that the chores had already been tended to.

“I guess there’s nothing for me to do here.”

Quinn grinned. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

She flushed. It was difficult to explain how she felt. She was proud of the way Wes and Micah and the crew had stepped up to the added chores, but it left her feeling oddly deflated. As though she weren’t really needed here. “I’m glad everyone’s pulling their weight. I guess we’d better head out.” She turned toward her truck.

After calling their good-byes to Wes and the wranglers, she and Quinn drove slowly away.

Until they reached the main road, Cheyenne kept glancing in the rearview mirror.

Beside her, Quinn arched a brow. “Afraid it will disappear unless you keep it in sight?”

She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Mind reader. How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“There’s nothing quite like our own home. Whether it’s… the biggest ranch in Wyoming, or charred ruins, it tugs on the heartstrings.”

She noted the slight note of sarcasm that crept into his tone and realized that Austin’s remark had rankled more than Quinn had let on. “Yeah. Home is… for better or worse, our safe refuge.”

At her words Quinn frowned as a familiar thought, which had been a constant in his life, flashed unbidden into his mind.

Why would a mother, with a loving husband and children waiting anxiously for her, leave a grand home, with every comfort imaginable, and never return?