Leaving Bluestone (7 page)

When he didn’t invite Lily for any more late night poker games, she took it upon herself to invite Leo and Maddox for poker night on Tuesdays, the slowest night at the bar. She didn’t take his offer of beer, instead sticking to Coke.

“You got a reason to be up all night?” he asked, placing the glass in front of her.

“No more than usual.”

He scoffed and sat down after serving Leo and Maddox. “Your ladies don’t mind you being here?”

“Trinity’s glad to get me out of the house one night,” Leo said.

“Beth wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she liked the idea that I’m not working,” Maddox said.

“So when do you go back on tour?” Lily asked.

“October. But I’m back in the studio next month. I’m trying to build a studio in the house so I don’t have to leave, but I’m not sure it’ll be done by then.”

“So how come you get to be here?” Leo asked her. “I thought this was a guys only thing.”

“I’m one of the guys,” Lily said. “And I don’t have to babysit anyone.”

“You getting any hits on those ads?” Leo asked Quinn, and Lily flinched.

“A couple of phone calls. No one willing to drive out to look at it yet.”

“You’ve mentioned the uptick in business, I presume.”

“I have, though how long that will last once winter sets in, I can’t guarantee.”

“I’m working on that,” Lily said, her voice tight and her focus on the cards.

“Right, a winter carnival,” Leo said. “You have it scheduled?”

“The weekend between Wilson’s and Beaudin’s.”

Quinn grunted. “No one will have money.”

“They’ll save it for ours. Maddox agreed to play.”

“Maddox plays every weekend. What’s unusual about that?” Quinn asked. “They’ve already been coming to see him.”

“And putting money in your pocket. But this will be after his big arena tour, with his new material. He’s saving the best for last.”

Quinn looked at Maddox. “Your manager is okay with it this time?”

“My new manager is just fine with it,” Maddox said, discarding a couple and getting two new cards that didn’t make him any happier.

“So what’s it like going from a bachelor to having two women and a baby in the house?” Leo asked.

Maddox’s mouth quirked. “It’s an adjustment. But I’ve got my girl to curl up with at night so it’s all worth it.”

“And Linda isn’t drinking anymore?” Quinn asked.

“They’ve been going to counseling, so for now, no.”

“Shouldn’t we be talking sports or something?” Lily asked irritably.

All three men looked at her.

“What? You gossip as bad as the women around here,” she said.

“Sor-ry,” Quinn said. “Just catching up. Fine. Whatever. We’ll play cards. Will that make you happy?”

She grunted, which sounded more like a no than a yes, but they played cards anyway.

“What’s going on with you and Lily?” Leo asked after Lily stormed out after losing all her money—not usual for her. Maddox had left before her, apparently eager to curl up in his girl’s arms.

“Nothing.”

“She’s mad you’re working at selling the place or something?”

“I guess. Not like it’s a surprise with her—I’ve had the sign out there for over a year.”

“But most people have ignored it, especially since you’ve been working hard on the movie night and the concerts.”

“The better business is, the better my chance of selling.”

“And walking away from her?”

Quinn looked sharply at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve never seen two people who want each other more but won’t do anything about it.”

“She was Gerry’s girl.”

“And Gerry’s gone.”

“You don’t go to bed with the girl who used to sleep with your best friend.”

“I get the feeling if anything happened between you, it’d be more than just going to bed. I think you have that feeling, too, and that’s what bothers you more than her being Gerry’s girl.”

“Just because you guys went and paired up—”

“Hey, the two of you were a pair before I even set eyes on Trinity. I think maybe the frustration level might have hit its peak.”

“I’m not sleeping with her.”

“Fine.” Leo shoved himself away from the bar. “Just don’t subject the rest of us to your temper when you’re together.”

***

July bled over to August, passed by morning fishing trips, weekly poker games, weekend movies, concerts and baseball games. Business started dropping off during the week as more families stayed home and got ready to start the school year. Then the long weekends dwindled and before they knew it, Labor Day weekend was upon them, the last hurrah to make money to head through the cold winter. Maddox returned from Nashville, where he’d been recording his new album, and played Saturday night, and there was a craft show that Trinity had helped set up, and the baseball game on Monday.

Lily kept her distance from Quinn. She couldn’t stand to hear him talk about selling the bar, how many people had called, though she knew only one person had actually driven out to look at the place. Now Quinn was talking about lowering the price to make it more appealing, and her stomach knotted. She’d thought after this summer that he’d see how wonderful this place was—how wonderful she was—and decide to stay. She was wrong. So wrong.

Seeing her friends paired off didn’t help her peace of mind. She almost missed Adam, just to have a companion, but she didn’t want Adam. She wanted Quinn. And she was ready to do something about it.

She headed over to his house after the bar closed on Wednesday night. He opened the door, his face drawn, his body tight. Immediately, she knew something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“My dad’s in the hospital. I’ve got to go.”

She looked past him to see the open duffel on the couch and folded clothes piled about. “When did you find out?”

“About an hour ago.”

“What can I do? Help you pack? Get the keys to the bar?”

His eyes flashed, making her think he hadn’t considered that. “Yeah, that’d be good. Beth knows how to make orders and things like that—”

“So do I.”

“The password to my computer is...”

“I know your password.”

He stopped and looked at her. “You do not.”

“I do. It’s 08NEDLA.” His last name and birth year backwards.

He blinked. “How did you figure that out?”

She shrugged and stepped past him into the house. “What else do you need? Do you have a flight booked?”

“Out of Brainerd. Cost an extra arm, but it’s faster.”

“Do you want me to take you?”

“No, I’ll leave my car there so it’s waiting when I get home. No idea when that will be.” He loaded a stack of clothes into the duffel then stopped, his hands on his hips. “I should take my suit.”

She opened her mouth to ask why, then realized. He thought he’d be attending his father’s funeral.

She turned to his duffel. “You have your cell phone charger?”

“I don’t think I’ll be making many calls.”

“We may need to call you.” And hope that he would call her if he needed to talk.

“Good point. It’s on the counter over there.” He pointed to the breakfast bar.

She retrieved it, wound it up and handed it to him. “Anything else I can do?”

He stepped back, his gaze fixed on the duffel, and shook his head. “I can’t think of anything.”

She wanted to ask if he wanted her to go with him. Now she knew about his childhood, she knew how hard this trip would be for him. “Are you staying at the house?”

“No, thank God. I got a motel room. Not anything fancy, but I’ll have time to myself.”

She nodded. Then, when she couldn’t think of anything else he’d need from her, she stepped close and folded her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest beneath his chin. He hesitated a minute, then closed his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek against her hair and blowing out a sigh. God, she could stay here forever, against him, offering him—whatever he wanted to take from her.

Then he released her and moved back, keeping his head turned away. She felt bereft and wrapped her arms around herself. “Call me if you need anything.”

But she knew he wouldn’t.

Chapter Five

Quinn sat crushed between a middle-aged woman on the aisle who jumped every time his arm brushed hers, and a snoozing over-sized teen who insisted on keeping the window shade down, which only made Quinn’s situation more claustrophobic.

Less than two hours, and this was a hell of a lot better than the situation he’d find when he landed. He hadn’t been home since his sister’s wedding eleven years ago, and he hadn’t left on a good note then. But now he was older, his own man—though he’d been in the service then and feeling confident about his choices—and he could face his family.

Part of him longed to bring Lily with him, just to have someone to unwind with. He wondered if any of his brothers played poker, but he knew that wasn’t what he wanted Lily for. She was so even-headed, and he’d probably need that after five minutes with his mother.

He picked up the Sky Mall catalogue, thumbed through it, then tucked it back in the pocket. The woman to his left was reading on one of those e-reader devices, and the font was big enough that he could tell it was a hot romance. A smoking romance, based on what he could see. The sleeper next to him had an iPod, the earbuds jammed in his ears. Great, and he hadn’t even thought to grab a book or something. He sat back in his seat, closed his eyes, and felt Lily in his arms.

He landed in Wichita, got a rental car and drove northwest. The landscape where he’d spent his childhood looked alien after the trees of Minnesota. This was the prairie, rolling hills, squares of land broken up for crops. The farmhouses were similar, spread apart, but the feel was nothing like home.

Home. Where the hell had that thought come from?

He drove through the tiny town of Jarvis, brick-fronted buildings right on the sidewalk, flat-faced, the place he’d come to escape the tension at home. The movie theater was closed, he saw, but it had been on its last legs when he was eighteen, only showing two movies at a time. The five and dime was gone, too, the building it had occupied was empty. Interesting that he’d gone from a dying small town to a dying small town. This place clearly didn’t have a Lily Prater around to shake things up.

The urge to reach for his phone to call her was strong, but the street to his folks’ house came up. It wasn’t likely they were there—the old man was in the hospital in McPherson, the closest hospital. Still, he turned, his stomach knotting as he drove down the familiar tree-lined street. Most of the houses looked worse for wear. One or two had been renovated, some had been painted, including the one where he’d grown up. But a lot more were run-down, the yards dying, boards missing from white picket fences. Old cars sat in driveways.

Depressing as hell.

A couple of cars sat on the cracked driveway in front of his parents’ house. Maybe someone was home after all. He pulled up in front of the crumbling curb and parked. With a deep breath, he shoved open the door and got out. He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, tucking it into his jeans before he headed up the sidewalk and knocked on the door.

The face on the woman who opened the door was a younger version of his mom, and a moment passed before Quinn’s sister Rose recognized him, and her round face creased with a smile. She pushed open the door wider and flung herself at him.

“You came. I didn’t know if you would.”

“I said I would.” He returned her hug half-heartedly. He didn’t know this woman, not anymore. She didn’t look like the scrawny kid with the skinned knees who had tried so hard to keep up with her big brothers. She’d become plump and red-cheeked, the picture of a farmer’s wife, which she was now, and mother of three. All boys. He imagined she had a time keeping up with them.

She’d stayed close to home, had married right out of high school to the guy who’d knocked her up. Quinn had wanted to kick some ass when he learned she was ending her dream of being a clothes designer. The girl could have sewn anything, spent most of her high school years copying fashion from magazines to wear to school. Now she wore elastic-waisted pants and a button-down blouse.

He drew away and she looked past him to the car. “Did you come alone?”

“Yeah.” Who had she expected him to bring? “I wasn’t sure anyone would be here. Thought you might be at the hospital.”

“Dad needed his robe and the kids were getting restless so I brought them back for a bit. I’m getting ready to head back. We can go together. You haven’t met my kids.”

That gave him a twinge. She turned around and yelled into the house, sounding so much like their mother that suddenly he was a kid again. Footsteps pounded on the wooden floor and three boys appeared in the hallway, stopping short when they saw Quinn. One boy was a head taller than Rose, another came to her shoulder, and the third was just a toddler.

“Quinn, this is Rhys, Walker and Ronnie,” she said. “Boys, your uncle Quinn. He’s a soldier. A hero.”

“Not anymore,” Quinn said when a touch of hero-worship lit the oldest boy’s, Rhys’s, face. “Not for awhile.”

“Still a hero.” Rose tucked her arm through his and leaned her cheek against his tattoo. “We need to get back to the hospital. Why don’t you ride with us?”

He didn’t want to, wanted to be alone, but it was probably a good idea to go, to get to know his sister again, maybe have an ally over the next few days. He nodded and followed her out to her minivan. She unlocked the passenger seat and spent several minutes clearing off the detritus on the seat—receipts, reusable grocery bags, half-used bottles of hand sanitizer. She tossed it into the back seat as her boys climbed in, and he saw more crap in the back. She smiled apologetically over her shoulder at him.

“Boys, you know.”

He made a noncommittal noise and climbed into the passenger seat and untangled the seatbelt before fastening it. Rose started the car on the third try and backed out of the driveway, narrowly missing his rental car. He took advantage of the “O.S.” handle above the window as they headed through town and out to McPherson.