Carolyn Davidson by The Tender Stranger

Author:The Tender Stranger [Stranger, The Tender]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It was done. He’d backed out of the deal, wired Joel Guinan with explicit instructions for handling Ted Wentworth. His business was safe in Guinan’s hands for now. And Ted and Estelle had no hold on him, once the retainer was returned.

On top of that, Erin was waiting for him. He smiled and urged his horse ahead.

The cabin was dark, as he approached, only a wisp of smoke coming from the chimney. Just in front of the porch a body lay, dark against the white snow beneath it. With a muffled exclamation, Quinn swung from his horse, dropping his reins to the ground. Heart pounding at an unmerciful rate, he bent beside the still form, knowing even as he did that it was not Erin, but a man.

Quickly his gaze swept the clearing, taking in the hoofprints, dark in the moonlight. Then, swiveling, he headed for the porch. The door was latched and he listened, holding his breath as he pressed his ear to the rough wood.

“Erin!” It was hushed, more than a whisper, yet contained. “Erin!” He spoke again, listening lest he miss any sound from within.

A tiny whimper caught his ear and his heart leapt. “Open the door, sweetheart. Let me in. I don’t want to break it down.”

“Quinn!” It was a pleading sound, his name spoken as he’d never heard it uttered, and his heart clenched within his chest.

“Open the door, Erin.” It was an order now, as if he sensed he must gain her attention in this way. From inside, he heard the creak of the rocking chair, then the soft shuffle of footsteps across the floor. Finally the door moved beneath his hand as she lifted the latch, and he pushed it open.

She was there, a slender figure in the dark, visible only because her dress was washed in the moonlight from behind him. Quinn brushed past her, his relief alive in his throat. First he had to light the lamp. Then he could look at her, assess the damage.

As he lit a match, the bundle she held in her arms stirred, and the whimper of a waking baby relieved one of his worries. He raised the lamp’s wick, lighting it quickly before he replaced the globe. From the corner of his eye he saw Erin lift the child and pat his back, the lamp glow etching her in its halo of light.

“Are you all right?” He walked back to close the door and then stripped off his coat. His hands felt like blocks of ice, and he hesitated, not wanting to touch her with cold fingers, yet feeling an urgent need to hold her against himself.

She took the choice from him, her stumbling steps gaining her his embrace as she flung herself into his arms. With the baby between them, Quinn held Erin, his hands running up and down her back, around to her sides. Then he cradled her head in his big palms.

“You’re all right?” He knew she was safe, unhurt, yet the assurance must come from her lips.

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