Chapter 5

Quinn’s warning came too late as Max charged toward her.

He knew better, but the excitement of whatever he’d discovered obviously outweighed his caution. He plowed forward, not paying attention to the calf on the ground in front of her, or maybe he saw it and subconsciously thought it was already tied and secure.

Regardless of what he was thinking, the calf’s feet were still loose, and one of them shot out, connecting squarely with Max’s thigh and knocking the boy to the ground.

His eyes went round, filling with tears as he cried out.

Quinn let the calf go, racing the loose length of rope as she ran to where Max had fallen.

Rock had been closer, and he was already picking the boy up and setting him on his feet. “You all right there, buddy?”

Max nodded, swallowing back the tears and rubbing at his leg.

“You gotta watch out for these damn little boogers. You get too close, they’ll git ya,” Rock said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?” Quinn asked, falling to her knees in front of Max and throwing her arms around his small shoulders.

Only the slightest tremble indicated his fright as he gave her a tight squeeze, then let her go. “I’m okay, Mom. I got too close, and the damn little booger got me.”

She raised an eyebrow at Rock, who was stifling a laugh.

“I see. Well, I’d prefer that you not swear, but in this instance, I’ll allow it. Don’t make it a habit.” She held back a grin, but it faded when she saw the bloody scrapes on his palms. “Let’s go in the house and get you cleaned up.”

“Quinn, we need you over here,” her dad called.

He must not have seen Max get kicked. Or maybe he had and didn’t think it was that bad. Hamilton Rivers was the kind of dad who thought skinned knees and bruises were part of the learning process and frequently told his kids to “buck up” and “shake it off.”

“I can take him in,” Rock offered.

Quinn lifted her head, searching Rock’s face to see if he was serious.

“What? I have two younger brothers. I can handle some antiseptic spray and a Band-Aid,” he assured her.

“Okay, but I’ll come in with you for a second. Just to take a look at his leg.”

Rock leaned down, offering the boy a ride on his back, and Max climbed up, clinging to his shoulders.

The main bathroom in the house didn’t seem that small until she was crowded into it with her son and the muscled bulk of Rockford James.

He set Max down on the counter and turned on the water. “Run your hands under there to wash the dirt off them,” he instructed the boy while Quinn rummaged through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment and a box of Band-Aids.

She pulled off Max’s cowboy boots and stood him on the toilet seat.

“Mo-om,” he said, pushing her hands away as she reached for his jeans.

She pulled back, surprised by her son’s sudden modesty. “Sorry. I just want to check your leg.”

Max glanced up at Rock, who gave him a nod and turned his back, giving the boy some privacy.

Quinn gasped at the red bruise that had already formed. He was small for his age, and his thigh looked pale and thin against the fist-sized bruise.

Rock turned around and peered down at it. “Oh yeah.” He offered Max a manly grunt and held up his hand for a high-five. “That’s a good ’un.”

Max responded with a brave grin and smacked Rock’s outstretched hand.

“I’m going to get you a pair of shorts. And an ice pack,” she said, fleeing into the hall so Max wouldn’t see her cry. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her lips, swallowing the emotion of seeing the ugly bruise on her little boy’s skin.

“Just a sec,” she heard Rock say, then felt him step out of the bathroom and pull her against him in a hug.

His voice was soft as he whispered close to her ear. “He’s okay. I looked at it. It’s just a bruise. It’s a good one, but the skin’s not torn or scratched. He’ll be all right.”

She clung to him, letting herself take comfort in his strong embrace for just a moment before she pushed back and swiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself together. “Thank you. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just keep him company a second while I grab him some other clothes.”

“No problem.”

He turned and stepped back into the bathroom, and she hurried to Max’s room.

Returning a few minutes later with a first aid gel pack from the freezer and a pair of soft, cotton shorts, she sucked in her breath at the sight of Rock standing in the bathroom with his shirt pulled up as he showed Max the colorful array of bruises that covered his back.

Dang, but that guy did have some serious muscles. And rock-hard abs.

The bruises on his back tore at her heart, not in quite the same way Max’s had, but she hated to think of Rock being hurt.

She handed Max the shorts, and he pulled them on. “Why don’t you stay inside for a bit?”

“Ahh. But Grandpa needs us.”

Ham had spent the last week talking about how important today was, and Max had obviously taken his grandfather’s words to heart.

“He can get along without us for a little while.”

“Why don’t you go?” Rock offered. “Ham’s gonna be expecting you to come back, but he doesn’t care one way or the other if I’m there. I can stay inside with Max.”

She gazed up at him and noticed for the first time the weariness around his eyes. It was hard to imagine Rock as anything but the strong, capable man she’d always known him to be, but he had taken a major hit a few days ago and had a severe enough concussion that his coach had sent him home.

Maybe this would make Rock take it easy without making him admit that he might be tired.

“Maybe you could read him a few books and keep the ice pack on his leg,” she suggested, then lowered her voice. “Get him to lie down for a bit without using the word ‘nap.’”

“Sure. I can do that.” He lifted Max and carried him out of the bathroom. The boy looked small against Rock’s well-built frame. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

She hesitated for a moment, weighing her decision to leave Max after he just got hurt with facing her dad’s annoyance and condescension about her babying her son too much. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

But Max didn’t seem concerned. Rock had set him down, and Max was already pulling him by the hand toward his room and telling him he knew exactly which books he wanted him to read.

* * *

Rock grinned as Max gave him a tour of his room, pointing out practically every toy he owned and every odd piece of junk he had collected and the significance behind it.

“And this is the rock that I found when we were on a hike a few weeks ago. I think it has a fossil in it.” Max handed it to Rock, who peered down at it and declared that it was indeed a fossil.

“Isn’t that cool?” Max said, putting the rock back and moving on to the next thing. “And this is my bank. See, it has three sections, one for saving, one for spending, and one for givin’ to the church. When I get my allowance or birthday money, I split it up and put some in each section.” The piggy bank was clear and shaped like three little buildings, a home, a bank, and a steepled church. Coins and bills partially filled all three sections.

Rock admired his dedication. “What are you saving for?”

The boy scratched his head and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. I was saving for a bike, but I got a really neat one for my birthday, so now I’m either saving for this new Star Wars LEGO set or a Disgusting Science Kit.”

This kid cracked him up. “What’s a Disgusting Science Kit?”

“It’s like this kit that you can use to do experiments, like grow your own germs, or you can make stuff too, like fake snot.”

He chuckled. “That does sound disgusting.”

“I know.” Max grinned and finished the circuit of his room, then grabbed three books from his bookshelf. “Wanna read these? They’re my favorites.”

“Sure.”

Max’s twin bed sat in the corner of the room, and Rock sat down, taking a second to prop up the pillow, then leaned back against the headboard. Max climbed in next to him and snuggled against his arm.

Dang if he wasn’t a cute little bugger.

Rock positioned the gel pack across Max’s small leg, then peered down at the books. “Dinosaurs, a wizard kid, or time travelers. Which one should we read?”

Max arranged the books in a pile, then pointed to the one on top. “This one first, then the others.”

This one first? How long was this kid planning on him staying? All night?

“So, is this one of the books your dad reads to you?”

Ah, crap. Where the heck had that come from? He had no idea why he had just asked that and felt like a total shit as he witnessed the instant change in Max.

The boy stilled, his whole body transforming. His shoulders shrunk inward, and his spine went slack. His voice was soft as he answered, “No. My dad doesn’t read books to me. He doesn’t do anything with me.”

“Do you ever get to see him?” He said the words before he could stop himself. He wished he could take it back, but now that the door was open, there was no closing it.

“No. I don’t ever see him. I’ve never even met him.” His gaze stayed focused on his lap, and he picked at a seam on his shorts. “Sometimes I like to imagine that he’s a soldier in the army or maybe a spy. So then, the reason he is gone and doesn’t come around is ’cause he’s fighting for our country or saving us from terrorists. Like ’cause he’s a hero, ya know?”

Physical pain tore at his heart, and Rock wanted to scoop Max into his arms and protect him from the assholes of the world. Like assholes who got teenage girls pregnant then walked out on them, and like the deadbeats who walked away from their kids, from their responsibilities as men.

But he couldn’t say that—couldn’t take away from the hope this sweet kid was holding on to. “Maybe he is.”

“Did you know my dad?”

Rock shook his head. “No, not really. I knew who he was. I played a little football for my high school, just to stay in shape for hockey, and our schools played ball against each other, so I knew who he was, but I didn’t really know him.”

What he did know of the guy was that he had a reputation as a bully and a troublemaker. He knew he’d been in some trouble with the law, even as a teenager, and that he liked to pick on guys smaller than him.

And he definitely wasn’t a hero.

He wished he could get Monty Hill on the field against him now—or better yet, across the ice. He’d give whole new meaning to dropping the gloves and taking that guy out.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do a damn thing.

Except wonder what the heck Quinn could have been thinking when she hooked up with a guy like him.

The familiar anger churned through his gut. It happened every time he thought about Quinn with someone else, especially a loser like Hill. And knowing that Hill had hurt her, and he couldn’t do a thing about it, made the fury ten times worse.

If he were being honest, he knew that some of that anger was aimed at himself.

He’d hurt Quinn first—when he’d left her behind. Hell, he’d practically driven her into the loser’s arms.

He couldn’t blame her. She’d been young, and the guy she’d thought she trusted had just let her down. No wonder she’d fallen victim to a chump like Hill.

There was nothing he could do about it now. Hill was gone, but Quinn and Max were still here.

All he could do was try to prove to Quinn that he was here now, that he wanted to be her friend again. Maybe wanted to be more than friends again.

A niggling thought whispered inside of his brain that he wasn’t here for her. He was here now, but he was leaving again, as soon as his coach called him back to the team.

That thought caused his head to pound, so he pushed it away and focused instead on the little boy who curled against his arm, waiting for him to read a story.

“So, you say this book has some time travelers in it? That sounds cool.”

Max tipped his head up and grinned at Rock. “Yeah, it is. They go to different places in every book, and they’re funny.”

Good. They could use some funny after that bleak conversation.

Rock smiled down at Max, then opened the book and started to read.

* * *

Quinn had spent longer than she’d anticipated outside, and she stretched out her sore muscles as she walked down the hall toward Max’s room.

She didn’t hear anything coming from his room, and she peered around the doorjamb and had to stifle a laugh.

Rock was laid out on the twin bed, sound asleep, and Max was sitting next to him, leaning against his shoulder and quietly reading a book.

The boy looked up as Quinn stepped into the room. “He fell asleep halfway through the book, and I didn’t want to wake him up,” he whispered. “I heard Uncle Logan talking about him, and he said that he got hurt pretty bad, so I figured he needed his rest.”

Her heart melted, as it often did, at the pure sweetness of her son’s personality. “That was really nice of you. How’s your leg?”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I feel bad about not helping Grandpa. Is he mad?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s fine. We’re almost finished. They’re just cleaning up. How about if I stay and watch Rock for a little bit, and you can go outside and see if you can help?”

He nodded, setting his book down and carefully easing off the side of the bed.

Quinn gave him a quick hug, glancing down to check on the bruise and trying not to wince at the deep-purple color.

She helped him with his sneakers, then listened as his footsteps raced down the hall, followed by the faint slam of the screen door as he headed outside.

Taking his place, she gently sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb Rock. She let out a breath as she peered down at his handsome face, his chin so defined that it could have been chiseled from stone.

His hair fell across his broad forehead, and she wanted to brush it back, then run her fingers through it—the way she used to do when they were teenagers.

They had known each other their whole lives, had spent so much time together. They’d been in the same class at school, had ridden the bus together, and Rock had been the one who insisted they all get skates and learn to play hockey on the pond that separated their two ranches.

He’d been a part of every milestone in her life: her sweet sixteen, her first rodeo, losing her mom. And she’d been there for his: for every hockey game he’d played, for his graduation, for the day he got his first truck.

They’d always been comfortable around each other, cared for each other, and each could practically read the other one’s mind. Even now, even with all the years that had passed, she doubted anyone knew her the way Rockford James did.

Although she couldn’t say the same about him, because she never would have believed he could have left her the way he had when he got offered the scholarship and the chance to play college hockey. Evidently, she hadn’t known him as well as she thought she had.

“You’ve got a pretty great kid,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep.

She peered down at him, watching the crystal-blue eyes that were as familiar as her own, blink open and gaze up at her. His lips curved into an impish grin, and she smiled back.

Dang it. She couldn’t help it. She’d always been a sucker for his grin.

“I know,” she said. “I came in, and he was reading a book and watching over you while you slept.”

“I didn’t fall asleep. I was just resting my eyes.”

“And snoring.”

His forehead creased. “Why does everyone keep saying I snore?”

She chuckled, trying to keep it casual, even though she’d just realized that she was in a bed alone with Rock. “We made it through most of our calves. I think we have fifty or sixty left. We’re taking a break to eat, then we’ll finish them off tonight. You planning to stay for supper?”

“What are we having?”

“Chili and corn bread. It’s been cooking in the Crock-Pot all day.”

“Is it Ham’s recipe?”

“No. It’s mine. So don’t worry, it doesn’t have any onions.”

He grinned, and her stomach went all topsy-turvy. “You always could read my mind.” His grin turned flirty, and he ran the back of his fingers over the curve of her hip. “Do you know what I’m thinking about right now?”

“You’re probably thinking that if you don’t move your hand, you might get slapped. I don’t care how big you are, cowboy, I can still take you out.”

He laughed, a loud belly laugh. “You are probably right.” He pushed himself up on his elbows and winced.

“You okay?” Those bruises covering his back had to hurt.

“I’m fine.” He brushed off her concern. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

She swallowed. That hadn’t been one of the assorted things that had come to mind that she had imagined doing to him. Best to focus on something else. She stood up from the bed. “Good. Then you can help me serve the chili.”

* * *

Five long hours later, Rock fell into bed. His body ached. He was in good shape, but working on the ranch and wrestling calves used different muscles than he was used to exercising.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep in Max’s room earlier that afternoon.

But waking up to Quinn next to him had made the unexpected nap worth it.

Even all these years later, she still looked great, like the same girl he’d known—and loved—most of his life. And she still made his heart race and his palms sweat, just like when he was a teenager.

Memories of time spent with her filled his head—and his dreams—as he drifted off.

* * *

The morning came too quickly—its arrival announced by the bright strip of sunlight coming through the windows.

Rock let out a groan, squinting against the sun as he checked the time. His eyes widened. He was surprised to see that it was past eight already and he’d slept in again.

He crawled out of bed and scratched his stomach as he stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. His mom handed him a cup of coffee. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“How’s your head?”

“Good. Better every day.”

“Well, don’t get better too quickly. I kind of like having you around,” she teased. “You want some waffles?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, swiping a piece of bacon off the platter by the stove. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. Just sit down and keep me company is enough. Tell me what’s new.”

He didn’t have much to tell her. They’d always been close and usually talked on the phone a couple of times a week. She stayed pretty current on the happenings in his life. But now, after his brother’s comments the day before, he wondered if he hadn’t been paying enough attention to what was happening with her and the ranch.

Had he missed something that was going on?

“I’m good, Mom. You know everything. Why don’t you tell me what’s new with you. Everything good? Things with the ranch okay?”

She tilted her head. “Are you worried about me, Son?”

“Do I have reason to be?”

“No. Lest you forget, I’m the parent here. I’m the one who does the worrying.” She turned her back to pour batter into the waffle iron, but he thought he’d caught a flicker of something in her eyes.

The front door slammed open, and his brothers walked in, followed by their two dogs. Mason’s border collie stuck to his side, but Watson, the golden retriever, raced directly for Rock, wagging his tail and his body in delight, whining as he begged to be petted.

“Nice of you to join us, princess,” Mason joked from the sink where he was washing his hands. He dried them on a towel as he sat down at the table. “We’ve been up and working for hours while you’ve been in here getting your beauty rest.”

“From the look of your ugly mug, you should have stayed in and slept a little longer yourself.” Rock picked up a piece of bacon and tossed it at his brother.

Mason caught it and crammed it into his mouth.

“That’s enough of that talk,” Vivienne said, setting a platter stacked with waffles on the table. “None of you have a clue about needing beauty rest. All of you boys are too handsome for your own good.”

Mason grinned at her. “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to add that to my dating résumé—my mom thinks I’m handsome.”

Colt chuckled and sat down at the table. “That’ll win you some favor for sure.”

Rock reached for a waffle, but his mom slapped at his hand. “Sorry, Ma.” Duly chastised, he bent his head as his mother blessed the meal.

They put their joking aside to focus on passing the food and filling their plates.

“So, are you going to the game with us tonight?” Mason asked before shoving a forkful of waffles into his mouth.

“What game?”

“Colt’s softball game. He plays on a league with The Creed. Tonight’s the game against Franklin, so half the town will likely show up.”

Franklin was the neighboring town to Creedence, and their biggest rival. It didn’t matter if it was football, baseball, or 4-H animals—if Franklin was involved, the whole town was rooting against them.

A sour feeling filled Rock’s gut as he thought about the rival town, and he knew it had more to do with than just softball. Franklin was the also the town Monty Hill was from.

“Tonight’s a playoff game, so it should be a good one,” Colt said. “And we’ve got a good team this year.”

Rock was glad to see that Colt was still involved in sports of some kind. He’d always been a natural athlete, and it was a cryin’ shame what had happened with his hockey career.

He’d had a promising future, was a rising star in the minor leagues, and could easily have moved up into the pros, if one bad injury hadn’t taken it all away.

It was a crushing blow. Colt’s entire future changed in the span of less than a minute.

And the kid had been good, could have been better than Rock, with a few more years under him. Not that Rock would ever tell him that. Although Colt already knew. Everyone knew.

That’s what made the whole thing even worse.

Stupid injuries.

“You pitchin’?” Rock asked. Colt had always been good at whatever sport he tried, but he had a great arm and could throw a ball with the speed and accuracy of a pro.

“Yeah. It’s coed, and we’ve got some great girls on our team. I think we could take the championship this year.”

Rock tried to push down the disappointment about his own team being out of the running for the Stanley Cup this year. Better to focus on his brother’s success than his own failings. “Sounds good. I’ll be there.”

“We can all go into town and grab a burger together at the diner before the game.” Mason reached for another waffle and turned to Rock. “I’m working on fixing that far stable in the barn this morning. One of the mares kicked out a section. Wanna give me a hand after breakfast?”

“Sure.” He nodded, and the conversation turned to the endless list of chores that needed to be accomplished on the ranch.

He spent the day working with his brothers, lending a hand and pitching in where he could. It felt good to be working with his hands, to be helping his family. Even though he didn’t come home as often as he wanted to, he easily fell back into the comfortable companionship of his brothers. They might joke around a lot, but it was obvious they loved each other and were fiercely loyal to each other.

Rock wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay out, so he took his truck when they left the ranch later that night. He had two he kept at the ranch. A new Ford with all of the trimmings, and his old blue truck that he’d driven as a teenager. He’d paid a local guy to refurbish the old truck, adding a new engine and a fresh coat of paint. The pickup held a lot of memories, and he typically drove it when he was at home.

But there were already enough old memories swirling in his head, so he drove the new truck into town tonight.

The diner’s cheeseburgers were just as good as he remembered, and his stomach was full as he parked behind Mason’s rig and followed his mom and brother toward the baseball fields.

Creedence might be a small town, but they took their sports seriously and, several years ago, had installed a nice sports complex, complete with four baseball diamonds and two soccer fields. Having the substantial donation from Rock might have helped as well.

The four diamonds were color-coded and spread out from a center area that had a snack bar, two locker rooms, and public restrooms.

The scent of grilled hot dogs and popcorn filled the air. Even though he was stuffed from supper, he couldn’t resist the smell of popcorn and bought a round of tubs and sodas for him, his mom, and Mason.

“Thanks, honey,” Vivi said, taking the offered cup. She nodded toward one of the diamonds. “Colt’s team is playing on the blue field tonight. I think I see him over there warming up.”

It took them ten minutes to cross to the field and climb up the bleachers. Not that the walk was that far, but between the three of them, they found that one of them had to stop and chat with almost every person they ran into.

Rock fielded questions about the team and the fight and his injuries. He smiled and joked, happy to visit, but found his gaze continually searching for one particular tall blond. He hadn’t seen her yet and didn’t want to admit that hopes of running into Quinn may have influenced his decision to come out to the game tonight.

Not that he didn’t want to support his brother, but the off chance that he might run into his neighbor was also a strong factor.

He heard her familiar laugh as they climbed the bleachers behind the field, and he looked up to see her and Max sitting a few rows ahead. Her hair was loose, falling in golden waves around her shoulders, and the white tank top she wore accentuated her slim, tanned arms.

She had on a pair of khaki shorts and tennis shoes, and even in such a simple outfit, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

A rush of heat coursed through him, both from the sight of her long, tan legs and from the wave of anger inspired by the too-smooth-looking cowboy standing next to her who was making her laugh.