The kerfuffle over Faith’s secret wedding dress had been nothing compared to the pitched battles that had raged when Kendra’s boys had been young and rambunctious. They’d gone at it in the house, on the porch and in the yard. Mandy had often mixed it up with them, too, in those days.

Sometimes Jo had been there to help her referee, but mostly she’d handled the inevitable squabbles and misunderstandings by herself. She’d had no one in residence to commiserate with, no one to escape with.

But tonight there was Quinn, who laughed with her about the antics of her adult children because he got it. She’d forgotten how lovely it could be to have a comrade-in-arms, especially of the male variety.

Once a fire was blazing in the fire pit and beer and wine were chilling in a tub filled with ice, she asked him to help with the side dishes. Soon potatoes were wrapped in aluminum foil and tucked into the coals. A pot of ranch beans was warming on the grill.

Then Quinn earned her undying respect by offering to tear up lettuce for the salad and slice the rest of the ingredients.

“My least favorite cooking chore,” she said as he stood chopping veggies on a cutting board and dumping them on top of the lettuce.

He’d removed his Stetson, but the rest of him was pure cowboy—a gray yoked shirt, tooled leather belt, worn jeans and boots that were wiped clean but scuffed, as if they’d spent plenty of time in stirrups and dusty corrals.

“Why is it your least favorite chore?” He took the jar of black olives she handed him and drained off the juice before tossing them into the mix.

“Boredom, I guess. You can’t multi-task when you’re making salad. The chopping seems to take forever and inevitably once I started the process the boys would come up with some crisis, or the phone would ring, or a pot would boil over.”

“I’ve always liked making salad. You can’t ruin it unless you pour the wrong dressing on top. Until that moment, your salad is perfect. Control the dressing choice and make sure it’s tasty, and you have no worries.”

“Uh-oh. The pressure’s on. I only have one kind on hand. What if it’s not the right one, at least according to you?”

“Something tells me it will be.”

“You can’t assume that, though. One person’s yummy can be another person’s yucky.”

His lips twitched and his gray eyes twinkled. “I suppose.”

“So much hangs on what kind of dressing is sitting in the door of my fridge.” She paused dramatically, her hand on the door. “I’m almost afraid to open this and reveal what it is.”

“You’re gonna have to sooner or later. I’m not a fan of bare salads.”

“Then here goes.” She opened the door and pulled out the bottle, displaying it like a trophy. “Ta-da! Balsamic vinaigrette.”

He started laughing. “Perfect.”

“Is it really?” His laughter was contagious. “Or are you just saying that? Tell the truth and shame the devil.”

“No, it really is perfect.”

“But you’re cracking up, so I’m not sure I can believe you.”

He grinned. “I was going to say it was perfect no matter what you pulled out.”

“Hey! No fair!”

“But I happen to really like that one.”

“Seriously?”

The gleam of humor in his eyes softened to a warm glow. “Seriously.”

Her breath caught. No one had looked at her that way in a long, long time. But she hadn’t forgotten what that look meant. Her heart pounded.

“Hey, anybody home?”

She let out her breath in a slow sigh. She liked Michael Murphy a whole lot, but his timing sucked.

Quinn savored the moment he’d just shared with Kendra. Without his daughter’s move to Eagles Nest, he wouldn’t have met this fascinating woman. His life would have been the poorer for it, too.

She clearly loved to entertain. So did he, and he’d neglected that side of his personality over the years. Working with her to provide dinner for Roxanne and her fiancé was big fun.

He grilled the steaks Michael brought and sipped from a chilled bottle of beer. Other than being alone with Kendra to see where that look they’d shared might lead, he couldn’t have it better than this.

When Michael went in the house with Kendra to help her bring out plates and silverware, Roxanne wandered over by the fire pit with her glass of wine. “You look right at home, Dad.”

“Kendra has a great place.”

“Sure does. I haven’t been out here since they set up the fire pit and the picnic tables but it’s a festive arrangement.”

“Have you ever been inside that little cabin where I’m staying?”

“No, just seen it from a distance.”

“You’d love the inside. Straight out of Little House on the Prairie.”

“Then I should make sure I see it before you leave.”

He took a sip of his beer. “I couldn’t ask for a more perfect setup for fixing my bike, either. Kendra was generous to offer it.”

“She’s very giving. She’s invited us out several times when she’s having a family dinner. I guess once Michael became a partner in the Guzzling Grizzly, she considered him part of the McGavin clan. Now I’m included.”

“I’ll bet you enjoy that.”

“I do. She always makes me feel welcome.”

“That’s nice.” He gazed at her. “I don’t have many regrets, but one is that you grew up without a mom.”

“You’ve told me that before, but trust me, I wasn’t deprived. All my friends said I had the coolest dad ever. You came to all my school events, let me have slumber parties, taught me to ride, taught me to drive, took me—”

“That’s all terrific to hear, honeybun, but a girl needs her mother sometimes.”

“I’ve heard that said, too, but anyone who believes it has never met you. I wouldn’t trade you for all the mothers in the world. So there.”

He smiled. “Thanks for that.”

“The boys and I used to worry that you’d bring home a stepmother.”

“You did? That’s news to me.”

“We weren’t about to mention it in case we’d put ideas in your head.”

“I see.”

“Did you ever consider it?”

“Not really. I knew the chances of finding someone as extraordinary as your mother were slim to none. Looking for that special person would have required way too much time. Time I wanted to spend with you guys.”

“See? That’s what I mean. You’ve been the perfect parent.”

He couldn’t help chuckling at that. “There were days when you didn’t think so.”

“Oh, well.” She waved a hand. “I was young and stupid.”

“So was I.” He glanced toward the house as Kendra and Michael came out on the porch with plates, silverware and the salad. “Bring it on down!” he called out. “Steaks are ready!” Now that it was time to dish up, he tilted his beer bottle to get the last swallow.

Roxanne lowered her voice. “So, Dad, do you think Kendra’s extraordinary?”

He choked on his beer.

She took the bottle from him and pounded him on the back a few times. “Sorry!”

Kendra put the salad bowl on one of the picnic tables that circled the fire pit and hurried over. “Goodness! Are you okay?”

He nodded and kept coughing. Embarrassing as hell to have the three of them standing around watching him struggle for breath. On the other hand, although he hadn’t intentionally choked, he’d been saved from answering Roxanne’s question.

He knew the answer. Had probably known it from the day in the bakery when Kendra McGavin had dropped into his life. He just wasn’t prepared to give it to his daughter.

She’d likely ask him again sometime. Not tonight. The opportunity for a private chat had passed. But he might want to formulate an answer so he’d be ready the next time.

Michael shared a bench with Roxanne on one side of the table and Quinn sat with Kendra on the other side. Cozy and natural as can be, and yet Quinn had never experienced having a meal with one of his kids while sitting next to a woman who was…what?

He hesitated to put a label on Kendra. Yes, she was extraordinary, but she was more than that. She was the needle in the haystack he’d never expected to find, an independent woman who unselfishly gave of herself to her family and friends. A person he could laugh with. A vibrant, exciting lady he loved talking to…and wanted to touch.

Admiration and chemistry didn’t always come bundled together but this time it had. She was inches away and yet he couldn’t close that gap and nestle his thigh against hers. Her warmth beckoned to him and every time she spoke, his heart beat just a little faster. In his peripheral vision, he tracked her movements as she ate her meal and drank her wine.

Meanwhile he participated in the conversation about the Guzzling Grizzly Country Store, Michael’s newest project. Construction to add onto the bar’s original footprint had been finished a week ago, and he was eager to see it. Customers who came in the GG’s front door could choose to go left into the bar or right into the space provided for GG merchandise and signed vinyl editions of Bryce and Nicole’s music.

Quinn’s art would go in there, too. The store wasn’t big enough to display his larger works. Those had to hang on the wall in the bar. But Michael had requested smaller prints because the scratchboard art was selling. Evidently the clientele of the Guzzling Grizzly was the perfect fit for Quinn’s depiction of horses, cowhands and wildlife.

He glanced across the table at Quinn. “You brought me some five-by-sevens and eight-by-tens, right? Because customers are already asking for them.”

“I did. They’re up in the cabin if you want me to fetch them.”

“Tomorrow’s good enough. I figured you’d want to see the store now that it’s finished.”

“I would.” He glanced at Kendra. “If I drain the tank in the morning and solder in the afternoon, we could have lunch at the GG like we planned.”

“We sure could. Roxanne, do you want to meet us there?”

“Sounds good to me. Just let me know what time.”

“Excellent.” Michael pushed aside his empty plate. “Any progress with the notecards?”

“Not really. I—”

“Hey, Dad. I didn’t know you wanted to do notecards.” Roxanne laid down her fork.

“Michael’s idea. Slipped my mind, probably because I wasn’t sure how to go about it.”

“I can handle it for you. Just tell me which designs you want to use.”

“Anything is fine. Whatever you—”

“No, wait,” Michael said. “Let’s do this scientifically. I can testify that horses and cowboys are the most popular. Wildlife is good but it needs to be the right wildlife. Wolves sell great. Bears do, too, obviously, because we’re the Guzzling Grizzly.”

“Got it.” Roxanne pulled out her phone and made some notes. “Let’s choose four designs. One of horses, one of cowboys with horses, one of wolves and one of bears. Is that good?”

“Works for me.” Michael looked across the table at Quinn. “You okay with that?”

“Sure. I’m happy to have you two make those decisions. I’m not very objective about my work.”

“Why should you be?” Kendra turned to him. “It’s a labor of love. Anyone can tell that.”

“They can?” That pleased him.

Roxanne nodded. “Kendra’s right. You’re emotionally invested in those images and it shows. People react to it.”

“That tickles me.”

“And now that we have that settled,” Kendra said, “we have cherry pie and brownies for dessert compliments of Mr. Sawyer. Do I have any takers?”

Michael grinned. “I’ll take both, especially if there’s coffee to be had.”

“Always.” Kendra stood. “Let’s get these dishes in the house before we launch into dessert mode.” She glanced over at the fire pit. “Although someone needs to stay here and build up the fire.”

“I’ll do that.” Quinn had assumed responsibility for the fire from the get-go so he might as well continue.

“Thanks.” Kendra flashed him a smile. “I don’t have to ask you what you want.”

“Nope.” He met her gaze. She was likely talking about cherry pie. But he wasn’t.