Her Christmas Hero (3 page)

“Afraid not. I'll be a crusty old bachelor at sixty, yelling at kids who dare to walk on my lawn.”

She ran her fingers through the grass. “You don't like kids?”

He shrugged. “I have a niece and a nephew and I'm crazy about them, but I can't see myself as a father.”

“Why not?”

The whirl of helicopter blades prevented his answer. Britt jumped to her feet and ran toward the sound. “Here! Please! Stop!” But she only saw the tail of the aircraft as it moved farther south. “No. No. No!” She sank to her knees, frustrated and out of patience.

Quinn stopped beside her. “They must have just picked up someone, or they would have come in this direction.”

“We're never going to get out of here.”

“We just have to wait.” He held out a hand to her. She stared at it for a second and then placed hers in his bigger one. His fingers were strong, capable, and with one tug he pulled her to her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice raspy to her own ears.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?” The gleam was back in his eyes, and she sensed he was a man who teased and laughed a lot.

“No,” she replied, feeling warm all over. And it wasn't from the sun. After the horrendous night, she felt strong enough to face whatever came next.

Because she'd met a hero.

 

C
ARIN
D
AVIS OPENED THE
front door to a deputy sheriff. “Have you found my daughter?” she asked without waiting for an introduction.

“No, ma'am,” he answered, removing his hat.

“What's taking so long? It's been hours.”

The man took a breath. “The weather's been a hindrance, but they found her car. That's what I came to tell you.”

“Oh!” Carin felt the blood drain from her face.

“It was in Brushy Creek.” The officer took another breath. “We think the car was swept away into the flooding waters.” Carin's knees buckled and the deputy caught her. “Are you okay?”

“Where's…where's my daughter?”

“Rescue teams are out searching, and we've got helicopters. We should know something soon.”

But from the young man's voice Carin knew what he was thinking. Britt had drowned in the raging waters.

No!

She refused to believe that.

“Who's at the door?” Ona called.

“A deputy sheriff.” Carin stood ramrod straight, not wanting her mother to see her anguish.

Ona hurried to the door, carrying Dillon. He immediately reached for Carin, and she cradled him close.
Mommy will come home, my angel.

“Where's my granddaughter?” Ona demanded in her usual flame-throwing voice.

“We don't know, ma'am.”

“Now listen…”

“They found her car in Brushy Creek, Mama,” Carin told her before she could chastise the officer and his depart ment.

“Hail, Mary…” Ona made the sign of the cross and went to the sofa to sit and pray.

“Please let us know the moment you hear anything,” Carin said.

“Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry I don't have better news.”

“Me, too.”

She closed the door and sat by her mother. Ona was the strongest person she knew. She'd lived through the depression, the death of her son and then her husband. Carin never saw fear in her eyes. But she saw it now.

“What are we going to do?” Ona rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her ample waist. “Not my Britt… Without her…”

“Don't say it,” Carin snapped. She couldn't hear those
words. Britt was her only child, the light of her life, her world. Her young and beautiful daughter had to be alive. Carin couldn't, wouldn't believe anything else.

Sensing the fear in the adults, Dillon began to cry. Loud wails filled the room.

“Shh. Shh, my angel.” Carin cuddled him, kissing his fat cheek. “Mommy's coming.” He immediately stopped crying, his dark eyes, so like his mother's, opened wide.

“Ma-ma-ma-ma,” Dillon chanted, once again happy.

Carin placed him in the Pack 'n Play and gave him a truck to play with.

“You know if that bastard finds out something has happened to Britt he'll be here for the baby.”

Carin could process only so much, and didn't want to think about her mother's words. But she had to be prepared.

Ona got to her feet. “I'm looking for Enzo's gun. I'll shoot that bastard before I let him take that child.”

“You're not shooting anyone.” Carin ran both hands though her short salt-and-pepper hair. “Mama, please, I can't take much more.”

“Don't you worry, my pretty.” She touched Carin's face. “Mama will take care of everything.”

“Mama…” Her cry fell on deaf ears. Ona was already rummaging in her room. Carin sank onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

Please, please, bring my baby home,
she prayed.

Britt sat in the wet grass, trying to remain positive, trying not to lose her grip. Quinn lounged beside her, staring at the sky. They both were listening. Waiting.

The sun had chased away the chill and Britt reveled in its warmth. Home. She yearned for home, her baby, mother and grandmother. She couldn't wait to kiss Dillon's fat cheeks, to see his dimples when he smiled. Oh, she missed him. Being away from him for long periods of time was getting harder and harder. But her job paid extremely well and she had benefits. In the lousy economy she couldn't find anything else that would even come close to supporting them.

Of course, Phil paid child support, and he made sure it was always late. Upsetting her was his main objective. He had Dillon every other weekend and a week in the summer, but he never kept to the schedule. She cringed every time he walked out her door with Dillon, but there was nothing she could do to stop him. He had rights, the judge had said. And her drug allegations were unsubstantiated. Being a lawyer, Phil was an expert at fooling people.

Every time he picked up Dillon, the baby cried and clung to her, not wanting to go with a man he rarely saw. Phil always smiled and said, “You know how to stop this. Come back.” Those times when Dillon was so upset, she
thought about it for a nanosecond, but knew it would be detrimental for her and Dillon. The man had no morals. He couldn't understand why she was so upset. He had told her his drug use and the other women had nothing to do with their marriage.

Britt couldn't believe she'd ever loved the man. Looking back, she saw her first mistake—trusting every word that came out of his mouth. It had been a whirlwind courtship. After two weeks of dating, Phil had asked her to marry him. There wasn't much to think about. He'd wined and dined her until she was head-over-heels for him.

His family was wealthy, his father a senior partner with a lot of clout in a big law firm in Austin. His dad had retired to their home in Colorado, and Phil became a partner in the firm. It was ideal. Britt wouldn't have to work again, Phil had said, but she'd held on to her job, anyway. Now she was glad she had.

Six weeks later they were married, and the fairy tale began. Phil bought her gifts for no reason, hired a maid for the condo and treated Britt as if she were a queen. Then the complaints started. He wanted her to quit her job. He bought sexy clothes, low-cut, short and tight, for her to wear, but she'd refused to look like a hooker. He didn't understand why she had to visit her mother and grandmother so often. At times she wondered if there was anything about her he liked.

On that fatal morning they'd had another argument about her job. When her flight was canceled, she'd decided to quit. Maybe they could get their marriage back on track. She'd just found out she was pregnant, and staying home and being a mother appealed to her.

Hurrying home, she'd stopped for groceries and candles, planning to prepare a special dinner to surprise him. They had been arguing so much she hadn't told him about
the baby. But she was the one who'd been surprised. The moment she saw him curled up with the blonde, drug paraphernalia on the nightstand, the fairy tale had ended. Abruptly.

And forever.

He'd begged and pleaded, told her it meant nothing, that it was something he did for stress. She was shocked and sickened at his cavalier attitude. The diseases he had exposed her to were too much to contemplate. She'd walked out there and then, and had never looked back.

After that the threats began. He said she would rue the day she'd left him. Funny, she never had. She just regretted the day she'd met him.

Allowing him access to Dillon was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. One of his high-priced attorneys made sure it happened. Now she had to deal with Phil for the rest of her life.

She worried about all the bad influences Dillon was exposed to while in Phil's care. That's why she had to make sure this custody attempt was shut down quickly. But for now, she was stuck.

Waiting.

“Do you live with your mother?”

That voice. She was beginning to really like Quinn's smooth, confident voice. The kind that made a woman for get she had morals. Made her forget her distrust of men. And made her forget her dire situation. She'd never met any one who was so easy to talk to.

“No. I live in Austin. My grandmother lives with my mom, and she's a handful.”

“Your grandmother is?” His eyes twinkled.

“She's had a lot of sadness in her life and it's hardened her. She doesn't take crap from anyone.”

“So she's an angry old woman?” He ran a hand around the collar of his shirt to loosen the drying mud.

“She's hard-nosed about a lot of things. It's not easy to explain.” Britt gazed into the distance. “One October her neighbors made a Halloween scene on their lawn with hay, pumpkins and ghosts. My grandmother said part of it was on her property, and she asked them to remove it. They didn't, so she set fire to it.”

He laughed. “You're kidding.”

“No.” Britt shook her head. “The neighbors called the cops and they contacted my mother. To keep my grandmother out of jail, my mom paid for the damages, but never told Onnie. That's what I call my grandmother.”

“Does she do things like that often?”

“Yes, and it's very frustrating for my mom. The last episode was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Onnie always has a big garden in her backyard, and she does a lot of canning. Two years ago she said her neighbor, not the same one, was stealing her tomatoes. My mom told her she just forgets she's picked them, but Onnie wouldn't believe that for a second.”

“What did she do?”

Britt didn't miss the laughter in Quinn's voice. That was not the usual effect Onnie had on people.

Britt shifted into a more comfortable position. “Her uncle Enzo is ninety-two, and he gave her an old World War II pistol for protection after my grandfather died. I'm not sure it even has bullets, but Onnie took it over to the neighbors and told them if she caught them in her garden she was going to shoot them. Of course, they called the police about the crazy lady with a gun. My mom thought it was time for Onnie to move, since she wasn't welcome in the neighborhood anymore.”

“So she moved in with your mother?”

“Yes, and it hasn't been easy. Onnie is stubborn, but they're managing to get along. At least Mom is keeping her out of trouble.”

The drying mud was becoming uncomfortable. Britt shift ed again to ease the tightness of her jeans. “These pants are drying like paint, and I'm never going to be able to remove them.”

“Call me and I'll come help you.”

She glanced at him, expecting laughter on his face, but there wasn't any. “I never know when you're teasing.”

His eyes held hers. “I'm not teasing.”

Tiny pinpoints of heat dotted her body, and she was sure her clothes were melting off under his warm gaze. In his eyes she saw the one thing she'd been avoiding for a very long time—desire. She was surprised she could still recognize it. But she was about to drown in pure, pure waves of blue.

His hand gently moved tangles of hair from her face. Everything faded away. They were two people, a man and a woman, stranded in the woods and discovering a whole new realm of emotions. And Britt wasn't uncomfortable with the discovery.

“I'm not sensitive about being touched,” she blurted out.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? It seemed that way to me.”

She glanced down at her hands and saw the dirt and grime. “Since you saved my life, I have to be honest with you.” She wiped her palms down her jeans. “I haven't been with anyone since my marriage ended.” She hadn't meant to get this personal, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. “When you touched me, I was feeling emotions I hadn't felt in a long time, and it made me angry. I was fighting
for my life and you're a stranger. I shouldn't feel attracted to you.”

“Are you thinking your senses were just heightened?”

She raised her head to look at him. “Has to be.”

“Want to put it to the test?” His voice was seductive, lulling her into a relaxed state. There was only one answer in her head. Yes!

He lifted the heavy hair from her neck and she had no qualms about meeting his kiss. Her heart hammered in expectation and…

They both heard it.

The helicopter.

Britt jumped up, running with her arms in the air. “Here! Here! We're here!”

She tripped and fell headlong in the grass. Quinn fell down beside her, laughing. “You fall more than any woman I know.”

“I do not,” she stated, laughter bubbling inside her. She sat up and without thinking hugged and kissed him lightly. “Thank you.”

“Britt…”

The loud sound of the copter drowned out his words. In less than a minute the aircraft landed. Two men jumped out.

“Are you okay?” one called.

“Yes,” Quinn shouted back, helping Britt to her feet.

They were assisted aboard, then were headed for Austin. After a paramedic checked her vitals, Britt asked, “May I please call my mother?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She talked for a moment, just to let her mom know she was fine. She also told her where the aircraft was taking her. It wasn't long before they landed at Breckenridge Hospital in Austin.

These were Britt's last moments with Quinn. Why she was feeling nostalgic she wasn't sure. She looked up to find him staring at her.

“I hope you find that real love. Don't settle for anything less,” he murmured.

She swallowed and wondered if there was such a thing as finding love with a stranger. Pushing the thought aside, she said, “Good luck with Deidre. I hope she's not too upset with you.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Goodbye, Britt.”

“Goodbye,” she whispered with a lump in her throat.

Stretchers were rolled out to the helicopter, and Britt and Quinn were whisked away for a thorough examination.

She got a glimpse of the sky and saw it was darkening once again. They'd been rescued just in time. Turning her head, she noticed Quinn being pushed into an E.R. room down the hall. A pretty blonde ran to hug him. A man in khakis, a white shirt and boots, with a badge on his chest, followed. It had to be Quinn's sister and the sheriff. Quinn had his family. Britt was happy about that.

Together for less than twenty-four hours, and now they'd be separated for a lifetime.
Goodbye, Quinn.

My hero.

 

“B
RITT
,
MY BABY
.” C
ARIN
rushed into the E.R. room, cradling Dillon on her hip. Onnie was right behind them. It was the most beautiful sight Britt had ever seen.

Carin took a startled look at her, no doubt surprised at how bedraggled she was, and hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine now.”

Dillon wiggled from his grandmother to his mother.
“No…” Carin started, but Britt grabbed her baby and held him.

She soaked up his sweet scent, kissing his cheek. His heart beat rapidly against her. “Ma-ma-ma,” he cooed.

A nurse came in. “Everyone will have to leave. I have to check the patient and get her cleaned up.”

“Now listen here, missy.” Onnie stepped up to the plate, fire in her eyes. “This is my granddaughter and I ain't leaving her.”

“Mama,” Carin said in a sharp voice that usually got Onnie's attention. “We'll go to the waiting room until they've checked Britt. We need to know she's okay.”

“How long is it going to take?” The question was directed at the nurse.

“Not long. I'll come and get you when the doctor has completed his exam.”

“Yeah. Like I believe that.” Onnie snorted. “I wasn't born yesterday, missy.”

“Onnie, please,” Britt begged, nuzzling Dillon.

Her grandmother patted her hand. “I'll be just down the hall. If you need anything, just holler. I still got good ears.” Onnie looked her over. “My, you're a mess. Looks like someone used you as a mop.”

Carin reached for Dillon. He clung to Britt. “It's okay, sweetie. Mommy's right here. Go with Nana.”

Reluctantly, he let go, his bottom lip trembling. Britt felt herself wobble as they walked out. “Please hurry,” she told the nurse. She wanted to hold her son until her arms couldn't hold him any longer.

Within minutes the nurse had cut off Britt's clothes, and a doctor came in to examine her. She had scratches and bruises, but he wanted some tests run, mostly a Cat scan of her head and an X-ray of her lungs.

She begged for a shower first and the doctor allowed it.
The nurse took her down the hall to a bathroom and stayed with her just in case she passed out. Britt scrubbed her hair twice before she'd removed all the mud and grime. Quinn was right—soap and water did the trick. Stepping out, she wondered if he was also taking a shower.

She had to stop thinking about him.

A few minutes later she was back in her room. The nurse said they'd take her for tests soon. Britt felt one hundred percent better. Almost. The custody hearing was still hanging over her head. What was Phil up to? Caring for their son wasn't on his list of priorities.

Her mother slipped into the room.

“Mom. Where's Dillon?” Britt sat up.

Carin tucked her hair behind her ears in a nervous gesture. “Don't worry. He's with Onnie. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I'm fine.” A tear trailed from her eye, belying her words.

Her mother gathered her into her arms. “Oh, my baby, I've been so worried.”

Britt clutched her. “I was so stupid going out in the storm, but I had to see my son.”

Carin sat down on the bed. “What happened?”

“It was awful.” Britt scrubbed at her eyes, telling her mother the whole story.

“What a courageous young man,” Carin said.