Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Quinn didn’t show up for breakfast, which was fine with Jo.
Despite the open kitchen window that Emmy Lou had raised to let in a warm spring breeze, the air was thick with tension as Emmy Lou and Fred exchanged looks, and Benny, clueless, chattered away about the day’s events.
Finally Fred suggested that Benny go polish the tack in preparation for the rodeo, and Benny breezed happily off to do his chores.
“I’ll be getting down to the barn, myself.” Jo pushed back her chair. “Sherry will be here for the insemination any minute.” She’d never blushed when she’d talked about such matters before, but she blushed now. Dammit.
“Hold on a second, Jo,” Fred said.
Jo sat down. “Listen, if it’s about last night, that’s none of my business. I’m happy for both of you. I—”
“It’s about last night.” Emmy Lou cradled her mug of coffee. “But not what you think. We’re not kids, and we won’t ask for your permission. If our behavior isn’t to your liking, then we’ll hire on somewhere else, right, Fred?”
Fred stared at her. “You’d leave this place on account of me?”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Emmy Lou grinned. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“I just never thought...” He shook his head, a smile lifting the corners of his gray mustache.
“We were going to broach another subject, weren’t we, Fred?’ Emmy Lou prompted.
“Yeah.” Fred hunkered over his coffee. “Yeah, we were. Jo, you know we didn’t think much of Dick.”
Emmy Lou cleared her throat. “Except to imagine him swinging by his—”
“Em” Fred sent her a look of warning.
“I’ll bet Jo’s thought of that, too,” Emmy Lou said a touch defensively.
“I have.”
“Anyway,” Fred continued, “we think you should hang on to this one.”
“This one?”
“The greenhorn,” Fred said. “He has heart, Jo. More’n Dick ever dreamed of.
I know he can’t ride a lick or rope worth a damn, but he’s got guts, and that’s what counts.
We could teach him — at least, I think we could.
He’s not real talented, but he’s determined.
And I have to say I was impressed because he had sense enough to…
uh, use protection last night.” Fred gulped his coffee and choked.
Emmy Lou pounded on Fred’s back while Jo sat there getting very red and wondering how Fred could possibly know such an intimate thing. Surely Quinn hadn’t left evidence lying around.
Once Fred calmed down, Emmy Lou glanced at Jo. “Quinn borrowed from Fred’s supply,” she said gently. “Fred noticed because he was down to four, and two were missing.”
“Oh, my God.” Jo buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m having this discussion with you two.”
Fred still sounded a little wheezy, but he seemed to want to get his message across. “It ain’t always easy to talk about. But Emmy Lou and me saw you make one mistake by takin’ up with Dick, and we don’t want to see you make another one by lettin’ the greenhorn go.”
Tears pushed at the back of Jo’s eyes. “That’s the sweetest, most considerate and wonderfully protective attitude, and I thank you both. But there’s a tiny problem. Quinn doesn’t want to live here and be a cowboy.”
Fred looked astonished. “Why not?”
“Because he’s a New York investment banker. He chose that, the same way you chose to work on ranches. He wouldn’t mind coming to see me once in a while, but he’s not interested in moving to the Bar None.”
“He said that?” Fred scratched his head, still not comprehending.
“Not in those words, but it’s very obvious. I think it’s a bit too primitive for him.”
“What’s primitive?” Quinn asked from the doorway.
Jo glanced up and couldn’t seem to remember what she’d been saying. He looked tired, but still gorgeous. Despite everything she’d told herself, she wanted to walk straight into his arms.
Fred stood. “I got business at the barn. Sherry’ll be here soon.”
“And I have to check on something in my garden,” Emmy Lou said, leaving the table on Fred’s heels. “There’s coffee and toast and a few hash browns left. I’m sure Jo could scramble you some eggs.” She hurried out of the room.
Quinn glanced after them as the front door closed. “I sure know how to clear a room.”
“I need to get going, too.” She pushed back her chair.
“Before you do, I have something to talk to you about.”
“What?” Her heart began to pound. Maybe he wanted to make some sacrifices so they could be together. She couldn’t imagine how it would work, but then she didn’t know exactly what investment bankers did. Maybe he could investment bank in Bozeman.
“Well, I—”
“Yo, Brian!’ The shout came from the front yard.
Jo groaned. She did not feel like facing Dick this morning.
Quinn walked over to peer out the window. “He’s riding a bike.”
“You’re kidding.” Jo got up to look. Sure enough, Dick was riding back and forth in front of the porch on—Jo could hardly believe it—a pink girl’s bike that was too small for him.
“Hey, Brian! Got a minute?” Dick called. “My heart rate’s up, and I need to keep it elevated, buddy. It ain’t time for my cooldown, or I’d stop riding and come on in. But I gotta talk to you.”
“Coming!” Quinn called through the window. “I’d better go or he’s liable to ride around out there forever.”
“He might,” Jo agreed. “He functions on about a sixth-grade level.”
“Come with me?”
When he gave her that look she couldn’t deny him anything. “Okay.”
Quinn walked out on the porch, and Jo followed. “Nice bike, Dick,” Quinn said.
“Found it at a garage sale. It’ll do until the Nautilus equipment arrives.”
“Nautilus?” Jo asked. “You’re getting a home gym?”
“Sure am.” Dick grinned at her as he pedaled across the yard, his knees sticking out awkwardly. “After people see me in this movie, I might be getting other offers. Gotta stay buff, you know. ‘Course, I don’t ride this thing where my men can see me.”
“Of course not,” Quinn said. “What’s on your mind, Dick?”
“Me and Doobie got to thinkin’.”
“There’s a scary thought,” Jo muttered.
“Yeah?” Quinn said. “About what?”
“We understand you can’t be in the rodeo and all, on account of you being such a valuable property, but we figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to lead off the grand parade.”
Jo remembered Quinn’s wild ride on Hyper and smelled disaster in the air. “Oh, you know, Dick, that’s a wonderful idea, but Brian really shouldn’t be on a horse right now.”
“Why not?”
Jo thought quickly. “Well, he recently spent some time in the tropics and went swimming in questionable water that gave him a real bad case of jock itch.”
“I’ll do it,” Quinn said, glaring at her. “I’m completely cured.”
“Don’t be a hero,” she said, glaring back at him. “You know you’re not a hundred percent.”
“Close enough,” Quinn said.
“You’re sure?” Dick asked. “That’s nasty stuff. I remember one time I got it, and I tell you, I scratched till I thought my—”
“I’ll be fine,” Quinn said. “Plan on me doing it.”
“Great. Well, gotta get on down the road. Still got my lifting program to do. Until the Nautilus stuff comes I’m using a broomstick with a six-pack strapped on each end. Oh, and I drink a glass of raw eggs every morning.”
Jo grimaced.
“Good idea,” Quinn said.
“I thought so. See you.” Dick pedaled off, humming the theme from Rocky.
Quinn gazed after him. “So you don’t think I can ride well enough to lead the grand parade?”
“Maybe. Depending on the horse you choose. But you’re taking a big chance, Quinn. I think you’d be better off if you—”
“Said my jock itch flared up again?” He sounded testy.
“I’m sorry. It was the first thing I thought of, and I couldn’t very well say you were saddle sore, could I?”
“And what makes you think I am?”
“The way you walked out on this porch.”
“You’re walking with a certain amount of care yourself this morning,” he said.
Her cheeks warmed.
“Will you be riding in this grand parade?” he asked.
“Yes. All of the contestants ride in it, and I always do the barrel racing event.”
“Barrel racing, huh? And how will that feel after... last night?”
She couldn’t look at him. “I admit that I’m a little tender.”
“Then I guess we’ll suffer together. Because I’m going to lead that grand parade regardless of my delicate condition.”
“Okay, then I’d recommend riding Butternut. He’s—”
“Thanks, but I’ll pick my own horse.”
Jo groaned. “Don’t tell me.”
“Yep. I’ll be lookin’ good. I’m riding Hyper.”