The Cowboy's Christmas Proposition Read online

  Her fingers squeezed his. “Deacon.”

  Just as calling her name had set her off earlier, a switch tripped inside him and his control broke. He surged against her and she met him, held him, as he shuddered and throbbed deep inside her. Hold on, he thought. He had to hold on because he was spinning off and he wasn’t going without Quin. She held him back, clinging as they slid down into the quiet. He rested his head between her breasts, eyes closed.

  Right here. Right now. Just like this. This was what life was supposed to be.

  Later, she lay with her head on his chest, their legs entwined. Drowsy, he listened to the easy sound of her breathing and the crackle of the fire. His ring glistened on her hand. He kissed her temple and whispered, “Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

  Seventeen

  Self-conscious about the glittering ring on her left hand, Quin kept her hands shoved in her pockets while riding in the wrecker back to the OHP garage. Deke, his foreman and others had dug her patrol car out of the snow just in time for the wrecker to pull it back onto the roadway. It wasn’t drivable and she dreaded the paperwork she faced.

  Quin walked through the door to OHP headquarters with a grin stretching her cheeks. She’d stared at Deke’s ring on her finger while opening the door and she was positively giddy. Deacon Tate had asked her to marry him. And she’d said yes! She did a series of little dance steps as she headed toward the requisitions office.

  The secretary noticed, which wasn’t surprising. Quin figured her happiness was flashing like a neon sign in Vegas. Unable to resist, Quin showed her the ring and explained she’d gotten engaged for Christmas.

  “That’s so romantic,” the woman said, gushing. “Who’s the lucky man? Anyone we know?”

  And that cooled Quin’s jets. The media, already dogging Deacon, would latch on to this latest event and worry it like a meaty bone. Besides, the whole idea of marrying him was still new enough, still nerve-racking enough, that she wanted to keep Deke’s identity a secret for a little while longer.

  “No, probably not. He’s not in law enforcement.”

  “Smart.” The secretary handed over a pile of papers and pointed to an empty desk. “Have fun.”

  Quin laughed and after silencing her phone, set to work filling in the blanks that would lead her to getting a new patrol car.

  Once she was done and waiting for one to be assigned, Dispatch contacted her and instructed her to appear at the main offices of Child Protective Services as soon as possible.

  Thirty minutes later, she walked into a room at the Department of Human Services and wondered if she was facing a board of inquiry. Two women and a man sat on the far side of a conference table. There was one lone chair on her side. She slid into it and braced herself.

  “It has come to our attention, Trooper Kincaid, that you’ve spent the last week living with Deacon Tate.” The younger of the two women, who’d been assigned as Noelle’s caseworker, opened the discussion.

  Quin straightened in her chair, hoping she didn’t blush. “That’s correct. I was at his home making a welfare check when the blizzard hit. I’ve just now returned to duty, though I’m technically on vacation. Why?”

  “What did you observe while you were there?” the man asked.

  “Observe?” Quin already didn’t like the tone of his meeting.

  “How did Mr. Tate react to your presence?” the older woman snapped.

  Quin considered her words carefully, then answered, “Mr. Tate was very hospitable.”

  “I’m sure he was,” the woman replied archly before conferring in whispers with her colleagues, all three of them glancing at her surreptitiously.

  “Certain information has come to us,” the caseworker finally said.

  Just over an hour later, Quin stumbled out of the office. She hadn’t believed them at first. The man they described wasn’t the Deacon she’d come to know. She wasn’t a foolish woman. She was a cop. A trained investigator. And she hadn’t gone into this situation with stars in her eyes like some silly groupie. They had evidence, though.

  According to information CPS had discovered, Deacon Tate, Mr. All-American Nice Guy, was a publicist’s fabrication. He was considered difficult to work with and in need of further “humanizing.” Quin read the reports, incredulous at first, then disbelieving. The tipping point was a memo from a senior record executive.

  What better story to put out than Deacon Tate, the country boy with the heart of gold, had taken in an abandoned baby...and romanced the cop assigned to the case. It could be a women’s cable network movie. Rich singer falls in love with baby and poor cop, he asks the cop to marry him, they adopt the baby and all live happily ever after.

  The older woman’s eyes had held pity as she explained the situation.

  Bottom line? Deacon had offered Noelle’s mother 25,000 dollars to buy the baby. Despite all the evidence, Quin hadn’t believed it. Not at first. Not until they brought in Noelle’s mother. Amanda confirmed that she’d received the money to sign private adoption papers, and that someone with the Barron law firm had taken her to a bank to set up an account.

  CPS wanted Quin to testify against Deke. All her previous reservations came flooding back. He was a performer, right? She’d watched his music videos, even commented on how real he seemed acting out the songs’ stories. She thought back, reviewed all the things she and Deke had done together. Had he just been pretending with her?

  Quin should have known her engagement was too good to be true. Should have known a man like Deacon would never love someone like her, that his family would never take in a stranger. It was all some publicity stunt. Using a baby as a pawn was despicable. She knew that from firsthand experience. Her parents, that rich couple—they’d all played that game using her and her brothers. She twisted the ring off her finger and shoved it in the pocket of her uniform pants.

  * * *

  Deke sat at the kitchen island, one hip hitched on a stool, his music composition book spread out on the granite counter. Noelle was asleep in her playpen so he strummed his acoustic guitar softly, pausing to jot notes and words, though he was mostly distracted by other thoughts.

  After he’d helped dig out Quin’s police car yesterday morning, he’d gone into Oklahoma City with the baby for an appointment of his own. Chance had set up a meeting with Noelle’s mother.

  “Why?” he’d asked her. “Why accuse me of being Noelle’s father?”

  Amanda—Mandy, she’d asked to be called—had cried and apologized. “Your music, it always makes me feel special, Mr. Deacon, like you’re singing straight to my heart. When Noelle’s daddy took off, I didn’t know what t’do. I don’t got no family t’speak of. And you have such a big one. I’d gotten a ride to the casino thinkin’ I might be able to get a job. I saw your bus sittin’ there and I just...” The girl hung her head and wiped her tears with the handkerchief Chance handed her. “I just got to thinkin’ what it would be like if you were Noelle’s daddy, about what a wonderful life she’d have. I knew you’d love her. I didn’t mean t’cause trouble for you.”

  Deke’s heart had gone out to the girl and he’d decided to help her. She’d been so relieved and excited when he offered her what amounted to a scholarship—tuition and living expenses while she attended cosmetology school. He’d tried to call Quin on the way home, to tell her what he planned to do. In the end, he couldn’t be truly upset with Mandy. She only wanted a better life for her daughter. Besides, he would have never met Quin.

  Even coming back to a house with no Quin, he’d had Noelle, so the place didn’t feel empty, as it once had. His life was becoming everything he hoped for. He’d found a woman he loved, a baby they’d raise together. Family. He would have a ready-made family.

  Before she’d left yesterday morning, Quin had decided to stay in town. He didn’t like sleeping alone. He missed her sweet, sleepy-eyed kisses first thing in the morning. He’d tried calling her several times yesterday, last night and this morning, but his calls rolled to voice mail and
his texts when unanswered. Quin was a state trooper—an important job. She’d been out of pocket for a week and probably had lots of work to catch up on—even though she was supposed to be on vacation. But they were engaged and he thought she’d return his call when she found a moment.

  Something dark suddenly crawled through him, a worry he couldn’t quite shake. What if she’d accepted his proposal because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings? What if she was ducking his calls because she didn’t know how to break it to him—that she didn’t love him and wanted to break up? No, that couldn’t be why.

  He thought back to what they’d done, what he’d said after the proposal. He’d told her over and over that he loved her. She’d said the same, out there on the deck with his family watching. But later, had Quin said the words again? Doubts wormed their way in despite his efforts to squash them. As a result, here he sat, at 10:30 a.m., fidgeting and full of nervous energy. He couldn’t wait to see her again and was surprised at how much he missed her. After being stuck together 24/7 for a week, he was used to having her here. She’d left on Tuesday, it was only Wednesday, yet every time he looked up, Deke expected to see her on the couch reading or watching TV. And every time, the room was empty.

  Someone knocked on the door, and his heart leaped. He wasn’t expecting any family so it had to be Quin. But why didn’t she just walk in? She knew he didn’t lock the door when he was home. They were engaged, and this would be her home, too. She didn’t need to knock.

  He set the guitar on the island and jogged to the door. He threw it open, a welcoming smile on his face. Two strangers stood there—a woman bundled up in a puffy coat, looking pinch-faced and angry. A burly, gruff-faced Oklahoma County deputy stood next to her, and he spoke before Deke could.

  “Deacon Tate?”

  “Yes?”

  The deputy shoved a piece of paper at him as the woman barged past, striding into his home. “Where’s the baby?” she demanded.

  “The baby? What’s going on?”

  “Read the order,” the deputy said.

  He did and shoved a hand in his hip pocket. The deputy stiffened and ordered, “Hands where I can see them.”

  Deke held his hands out to his sides. “I was just reaching for my phone, deputy.”

  “Don’t make any sudden moves, sir. I have no way of knowing what you’re reaching for.”

  The man’s emphasis on the honorific wasn’t lost on Deke so he didn’t bother arguing or asking the obvious question because yes, the deputy knew who he was. From his position he watched the woman grab up the baby, but when Noelle started crying, he tensed.

  “What are you doing to her?” he yelled.

  “It’s no longer your concern,” the woman barked as she returned holding the upset baby.

  “At least get her travel blanket from her room. You can’t take her out in this cold dressed only in her onesie!”

  After a minute of hesitation, the woman acquiesced. “Fine. He can show us.”

  The deputy shadowed him across the great room, the woman following. Deke stopped at the nursery door and caught the look of surprise on the social worker’s face when she stepped inside. What had she been expecting? That he stuffed Noelle into a cardboard box to sleep? He pointed with his chin to the tall dresser. “Second drawer. There’s a Pendleton travel blanket thing that works with her carrier and car seat.”

  “I have a car seat.”

  “Yeah, I just bet.” The one installed in his truck was top-of-the-line and had the highest safety rating. He could just imagine what she had in her state car. They allowed him to retrieve the blanket, then they returned to the front door.

  Deacon battled to stay calm, especially when the woman swept out of his house without allowing him to kiss the baby goodbye. Adding insult, the deputy waited until the woman’s car disappeared.

  “Word of advice,” the man called as he got into his patrol car. “Don’t follow.”

  Seriously? Did they truly believe he’d go tearing after the woman and kidnap the baby or something? Why would he do something that stupid when he had something far more powerful in his corner—his family.

  What he didn’t understand was what had triggered this removal. It wasn’t until he was reading the order to Chance over the phone that realization crashed into him. Quin. She’d known about the order. That was why she hadn’t returned his calls. Her name was listed as a witness for the state. Given the current guardian’s unusual attachment to the child, it is this officer’s opinion that he will not willingly release the child to her natural parent.

  What the hell? Yes, he loved Noelle but if her mother truly wanted her back and was able to take care of her, he’d do everything he could to help.

  “Deacon?” Chance sounded cautious. “I thought you and Quin were engaged.”

  “Yeah, me, too. I... What’s going on, Chance? Why would they take Noelle like this?” But what he really wanted to know was why Quin would do this to him...to Noelle.

  “I don’t know. They used a juvenile court judge. I put in a call to Judge Nelligan. We’ll get to the bottom of things. In the meantime, hang tight and find out what Quin knows.”

  Yeah, he’d like to do that but she would have to answer her damn phone for that to happen. After a long pause, he admitted, “She’s not taking my calls, Chance.”

  Silence stretched over the phone line. “Aw, hell, Deke,” Chance finally said. “Is it possible she set you up?”

  Was he that big of an idiot, his family all fools to believe her? He didn’t know if she was capable of doing this, if she was that cold. But why else would she have given testimony to take Noelle away from him? Quin’s apparent betrayal ripped his heart out of his chest. A knife twisting in his gut would have been more humane. The damn woman had shared his bed, accepted his marriage proposal. Even now she wore his grandmother’s ring. Well, not for long if she was playing him.

  “I honestly don’t know, Chance. I... Dammit, I love her. I thought she loved me. At least that’s what she said.”

  “I’ll find out what’s going on, Deke. We’ll get Noelle back. I promise.”

  * * *

  Quin felt queasy. The low-level headache she’d been fighting since finding out about Deacon yesterday roared back to life as soon as she entered Troop A headquarters. A few of her colleagues were there—some finishing up reports before going off duty, others checking in prior to hitting the road for their shift. Now that her part in the baby Noelle investigation was over, she could get back to patrolling Oklahoma’s highways. She blew off the remainder of her vacation. She was desperate to stay busy so she didn’t have time to think.

  She hadn’t slept well last night. Oh, who was she kidding? She hadn’t slept at all.

  Quin had done the right thing so it couldn’t be guilt keeping her awake. She’d been an idiot to trust a sexy man who knew how to push every last one of her buttons. She had a duty to protect the innocent and what Deke had done was inexcusable. Deacon Tate as a single father? Ridiculous. As evidenced by his insane declaration that he loved her and wanted to make a family with her and that baby. They didn’t know each other well enough to be in love—the week spent snowed in notwithstanding. And she should have known he was playing her.

  Removing Noelle from Deacon’s custody was the right decision. Amanda wasn’t exactly in a place to take care of her child. But she’d told them she wanted to go to school. Get her own place to live. Find a job. Based on that, the CPS caseworker had drawn up a plan—one that included parenting classes. It wouldn’t be easy but little Noelle would be safe with a foster family until Mandy got her life together. Quin hoped the girl would. Then the little family would be reunited and everything would be fine.

  And Quin wouldn’t have to deal with Deacon Tate. Because she’d been out of her mind to fall for his seduction. Granted, he was the sexiest man she’d ever been around—much less kissed and made love with. The man was...gifted in that department. Her cheeks warmed with the thought of what they’d done, but
he was still a jerk. She had to remember that. He’d taken advantage of a naive girl. Quin didn’t want to admit that she’d allowed him to take advantage of her, as well.

  “Yo, Kincaid!” Fingers snapped in front of her face and she blinked, realizing she’d totally blanked out.

  “What?” She glared at the smirking trooper standing in front of her.

  “Whoa, Quin. You’re the one with the thousand-yard stare. I called your name five times. Lieutenant Charles wants you.”

  “Oh, thanks.” She headed to her supervisor’s office as the other cop called after her.

  “You should think about maybe getting more sleep. You look like something my wife’s cat dragged in.” He laughed and walked away before she could think of a retort.

  Sadly, he was right. She did need more sleep. And obviously, her attempt at applying makeup that morning hadn’t concealed her restless nights. Quin braced herself, her stomach twisting in knots at the thought of what faced her. She was pretty sure the entire coalition of the Barrons’ and Tates’ powerful friends was about to dump on her.

  The lieutenant was in the break room pouring a cup of coffee and he looked up as she paused in the doorway. He preempted her question. “You have a visitor. Interview room A. You need to fix this, Kincaid.” He turned back to his coffee, dismissing her.

  Great. She’d done the right thing, and now it was all coming back on her. Well, fine. Just fine. She’d go deal with whatever minion Deacon had sent. She’d set that person straight. Then she’d get back to doing her job. Full of righteous indignation, she stalked down the hallway.

  When she reached the interview room, Quin didn’t knock. She barged through the door. The person sitting there jerked liked she’d been punched, one hand pressed to her chest as she jumped to her feet. Quin halted two steps inside the room as she recognized her visitor. Mandy Brooks was the last person she expected to see. The girl’s eyes looked bruised from exhaustion and her posture indicated she was ready to bolt.

  Quin studied her. In a nervous gesture, Mandy tucked a lank strand of hair behind her ear with trembling fingers. The kid looked beaten down by life and Quin didn’t like the resigned expression etched on the girl’s face.