Hearts On The Line. Margaret DaleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
some more.”
“I imagine they are beyond repair. Don’t worry about them,” she said wistfully when she thought of having just removed the price tag from them right before she had put them on an hour ago.
Quinn clambered up the ladder until he could grip the wood. The whole time she was acutely aware of him even though she couldn’t see him—she could hear and feel his presence. Heat singed her face when she pictured how she must look to him.
He finally broke off the jagged piece of wood, giving her leg some more room. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He shoved while she thrust herself up and out of the hole. She perched herself on the rafter and stared down into the bedroom. Thankfully she hadn’t been right above the bed so Granny’s quilt had escaped any harm.
“Are you all right?” Quinn’s handsome face peered up at her.
She smiled. “I’ll live.”
He climbed down while she checked the gash on her leg. Her nicest pair of capris was, as she’d suspected, totally ruined. She probably needed to go to the doctor and have the wound stitched. Her leg throbbed with pain, which only reinforced her conclusion. She hated doctors, tried her best to stay away, but she knew Quinn would insist. Why, she wasn’t sure. He just seemed that kind of guy.
Quinn appeared by her side. “How bad is it?”
She showed him the gash on her thigh, blood soaking her peach-colored capri pants.
He whistled. “I’ll drive you to the emergency room.”
“No hospitals.”
“You should see a doctor. You need stitches and the wound needs to be cleaned out. I’ve seen enough accidents on the construction site to know a bad one when I see it.”
Her jaw clenched, she tried to stand. “I don’t have a doctor.”
Quinn came to her side to assist. “You don’t?”
She slanted a look at his strong profile as she limped next to him toward the stairs, his arm about her, helping to support some of her weight. “We had a family doctor, but he retired last year. I haven’t had a need to find another.”
“My cousin is a doctor. I’ll call Adam and see if he can see you right away.”
“But—”
He shot her a challenging look, one eyebrow arched.
She clamped her mouth closed, keeping her protest inside. Finally she said, “It’s Saturday,” as though that would change Quinn’s mind.
“I’m calling him at home.”
“I don’t want to bother him at home on his—”
“That’s what family is for. Family helps family.”
Becca could tell by the firm set of his jaw and the intense look in his eyes that she wasn’t going to get out of having Quinn take her to his cousin. And frankly, she didn’t have a better option. Her leg throbbed and the deepness of the gash made it evident she needed help.
Downstairs in her kitchen where she kept her first-aid kit, she sat at her table, opened the container and retrieved a bandage and some peroxide. After calling his cousin, Quinn hovered over her, watching her every move as though if she fumbled he would step in to assist. In the short time she’d known him, she’d gotten that feeling about him. He was a man of action, no wasted motion.
“There. I shouldn’t bleed all over your car.” She snapped her first-aid kit closed.
Again with his assistance, she made her way to his blue truck, which was sitting in her driveway. “How far?” she asked, noticing a red spot on her bandage already.
Quinn glanced at her wound. “Ten minutes. Adam’s meeting us at his office.”
“This is probably not how you thought you would spend your morning.”
He sent her a grin that caused her stomach to flip-flop. “After your leg is taken care of, we’ll pick up where we left off.”
“And that is?”
“With me ringing your doorbell and you answering. Oh, that reminds me—” he delved into the front pocket of his jeans and took out the key to her front door “—this is yours.”
He slipped her house key into her palm, the action almost seeming intimate to Becca. Curling her fingers around the piece of metal, warmed by his touch, she shook that feeling away. When in the world would she have time to date, let alone get serious with someone? Her work took up so much of her day and what was left over was devoted to her classes and finally fixing up the home that should have been renovated years ago.
After having limped around her house for the past hour showing Quinn what needed to be done, in the living room Becca swept her arm wide and asked, “So, what do you think?”
He looked up from the pad he had been scribbling notes on and said, “Let me work up an estimate and get back to you.”
“I know I can’t afford all that needs to be done right away. I was thinking about having the work done in stages with the kitchen—” she glanced skyward “—and now the ceiling in the third bedroom and flooring in the attic done first.”
“Okay, I’ll start with that. I should have something by tomorrow afternoon. I can come by after church with the estimate. Will you be here around one?”
“That’s my day to sleep in and be lazy, so I’ll be here.” Of course, her idea of sleeping in and being lazy was getting up at eight and actually getting to read the Sunday paper, then hitting the books for class, if she wasn’t catching up on a few things that needed to be done around the house.
Contemplating her for a moment, Quinn cocked his head. “Why the kitchen?”
With her leg still throbbing, she decided to sit on the couch and indicated he take a seat, too. “Because I love to cook and hope to do more of it in the future.”
“I do quite a bit of cooking when I have the time.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, learned it from my mother.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s right. I’ve had some of your mother’s apple pie at the Stagecoach Cafe. Brendan brought one down to the station a while back. It was delicious.” Becca smoothed her hand across another pair of capris, thankful that she was finally able to take off the ruined ones, ripped beyond repair, which she’d promptly thrown away. “Any chance I could get her apple pie recipe?”
His chuckle spiced the air. “It’s a deep, dark family secret. The only way is to become a member of the family.”
The very thought sent her mind whirling with all kinds of possibilities, none unappealing. She tapped her finger against her chin and said, “Hmm. With Brendan engaged…”
His gaze caught hers and for a few seconds sparks flew across the short space that separated them. Then the moment evaporated when Quinn sat up and looked away, clearing his throat. “I’d better be going.”
Reluctantly Becca pushed to her feet, part of her wanting to explore what had just transpired between them. But the other part wanted to run as fast as possible away from him. He could break her heart. She knew he had been engaged several years back and his fiancée, Maggie Nelson, a fellow police officer, had been killed while on duty. From the rumors flying around at the time, Quinn had not taken it well. Was he still mourning Maggie’s death?
“I look forward to hearing from you about the estimate.” She started for the entry hall. “And your cousin was great today. Are you sure he won’t take some money for stitching me up?”
“Adam? No way! We Montgomerys help each other out.”
“But I’m not