bore a crimson stain of their own. His mouth pursed as he cleared his throat. “No one is accusing you of improper behavior, ma’am. It’s just that, as time goes by, things change. Pretty soon, folks will be wondering about your situation here.”
“A single woman is always open to gossip, ma’am,” the doctor added quietly. “That’s the way of the world, like it or not.”
Erin’s gaze swept over the three men who watched her. Quinn’s hip rested against the window ledge, his arms crossed over the expanse of his chest. He glanced at the preacher and Doc Fisher, both of whom looked decidedly uncomfortable. Lifting one brow in silentquery, he watched Erin, as if he asked her permission for his action, and then, at her nod, he stood erect, drawing all eyes in his direction.
‘I think we can solve the problem to everyone’s satisfaction, Doc.” His easy drawl set a new mood, and the two men turned to him anxiously, as if ready to dump the load of concern on his broad shoulders.
“I’m pretty open to suggestion, Mr. Yarborough.” Brother Stephen’s tone was eager.
“Let’s have it.” Doc Fisher’s face relaxed.
Quinn shot another glance at Erin, his dark eyes scanning her quickly, holding her gaze as he spoke. This was the moment of truth. He’d weighed his feelings, considered his choices, and for the first time in his life he felt a sense of rightness, a sense of belonging, fill him with satisfaction that knew no bounds.
“I’m thinking we’ve got the solution right in front of us, Doc. The preacher’s here already, almost like Providence had a hand in it, sending him up the mountain today. Erin’s looking like a new mother needing a husband to tend to her and her child, and I’m a likely candidate for the job.”
Erin opened her mouth, whether to protest or not she never knew. Quinn’s quick, almost imperceptible movement of his head kept her silent, and his mouth curved in a faint smile of approval. Her thoughts spun rapidly, a tangled mass of confusion. She was a widow, not really a single woman, yet the child she held was not her own. Quinn was offering to marry her, allowing her to keep the baby she cradled.
Within her arms, he was a warm, compact bundle, and her hold on him tightened. He squirmed, protesting her grip, and she glanced down. Piercing blue eyes met her gaze and a small bubble formed between his rosy lips.A single sound, a cooing whisper of satisfaction, burst the moisture as his mouth opened. Erin bent low, consumed by a spasm of emotion almost painful in its intensity.
This child needed her. Already he’d become her own, easing the pain of her loss, filling her arms with his blessed presence.
She needed him, this small gift from heaven. And more than that, she needed the man who had brought him to her. In order to appease the restraints placed on a woman alone by the society she lived in, she needed Quinn Yarborough.
“Ma’am?” It was the preacher’s eager query that gained her attention.
Erin lifted her head, facing the three men who had the ability to decide her destiny, and her mouth quivered as she opened it to speak. As if he’d spotted the telltale, trembling movement, Quinn stepped to her side, then crouched with one knee on the floor beside the rocking chair.
His hand covered hers, fingers spreading wide to encompass her grip on the baby’s rounded form. He squeezed gently, bending forward to hide her from the other two men.
“Trust me.” The words were soft, whispered against her cheek, his mouth brushing her skin in a movement that might have been a caress. Whatever its intent, his gesture took her breath, and she turned instinctively, her face against his broad chest.
“Yes.” Her acquiescence breathed against his shirtfront and he tightened his grip on her hand.
She inhaled sharply, then repeated the single word as she lifted her head from the haven he’d offered.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” The preacher prodded her, his voice eager as he
“A single woman is always open to gossip, ma’am,” the doctor added quietly. “That’s the way of the world, like it or not.”
Erin’s gaze swept over the three men who watched her. Quinn’s hip rested against the window ledge, his arms crossed over the expanse of his chest. He glanced at the preacher and Doc Fisher, both of whom looked decidedly uncomfortable. Lifting one brow in silentquery, he watched Erin, as if he asked her permission for his action, and then, at her nod, he stood erect, drawing all eyes in his direction.
‘I think we can solve the problem to everyone’s satisfaction, Doc.” His easy drawl set a new mood, and the two men turned to him anxiously, as if ready to dump the load of concern on his broad shoulders.
“I’m pretty open to suggestion, Mr. Yarborough.” Brother Stephen’s tone was eager.
“Let’s have it.” Doc Fisher’s face relaxed.
Quinn shot another glance at Erin, his dark eyes scanning her quickly, holding her gaze as he spoke. This was the moment of truth. He’d weighed his feelings, considered his choices, and for the first time in his life he felt a sense of rightness, a sense of belonging, fill him with satisfaction that knew no bounds.
“I’m thinking we’ve got the solution right in front of us, Doc. The preacher’s here already, almost like Providence had a hand in it, sending him up the mountain today. Erin’s looking like a new mother needing a husband to tend to her and her child, and I’m a likely candidate for the job.”
Erin opened her mouth, whether to protest or not she never knew. Quinn’s quick, almost imperceptible movement of his head kept her silent, and his mouth curved in a faint smile of approval. Her thoughts spun rapidly, a tangled mass of confusion. She was a widow, not really a single woman, yet the child she held was not her own. Quinn was offering to marry her, allowing her to keep the baby she cradled.
Within her arms, he was a warm, compact bundle, and her hold on him tightened. He squirmed, protesting her grip, and she glanced down. Piercing blue eyes met her gaze and a small bubble formed between his rosy lips.A single sound, a cooing whisper of satisfaction, burst the moisture as his mouth opened. Erin bent low, consumed by a spasm of emotion almost painful in its intensity.
This child needed her. Already he’d become her own, easing the pain of her loss, filling her arms with his blessed presence.
She needed him, this small gift from heaven. And more than that, she needed the man who had brought him to her. In order to appease the restraints placed on a woman alone by the society she lived in, she needed Quinn Yarborough.
“Ma’am?” It was the preacher’s eager query that gained her attention.
Erin lifted her head, facing the three men who had the ability to decide her destiny, and her mouth quivered as she opened it to speak. As if he’d spotted the telltale, trembling movement, Quinn stepped to her side, then crouched with one knee on the floor beside the rocking chair.
His hand covered hers, fingers spreading wide to encompass her grip on the baby’s rounded form. He squeezed gently, bending forward to hide her from the other two men.
“Trust me.” The words were soft, whispered against her cheek, his mouth brushing her skin in a movement that might have been a caress. Whatever its intent, his gesture took her breath, and she turned instinctively, her face against his broad chest.
“Yes.” Her acquiescence breathed against his shirtfront and he tightened his grip on her hand.
She inhaled sharply, then repeated the single word as she lifted her head from the haven he’d offered.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” The preacher prodded her, his voice eager as he
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