Page 50 of Quinton's Quest

“My dear. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re healthy. I hope you’re happy—”

“I am.”

“—and I want to see you with someone.” She tapped the table. “And if you’re happy, then my work is half-done.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need a man—or a woman—to complete my life. I’m only twenty-six—”

“Twenty-seven soon.” Her eyes flashed amusement.

“Right. Still young enough. I’ll find the right person—when the time comes. Or not. Nothing wrong with remaining single.”

She blinked. “I miss your father every day—but I wouldn’t have given up a moment of that time if it meant living without heartbreak now.”

“Mama.” I rose and made my way over to her. Then I wrapped my arms around her. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Good Lord, my son. Of course not. Go and have fun with your friend and his children.”

I would’ve stayed—but I was happy to see she was okay with me leaving. I shoved the last bite of my sandwich into my mouth, put my plate in the dishwasher, grabbed the container of cookies, and headed to the door to the garage. There we had all the outerwear. I selected a down-filled coat, warm snow boots, a scarf, and gloves.

Mama reached out to put a hat on my head. “To stay warm.”

“I’ll turn on the heat in the SUV. It’s below freezing.” Not much, but I was still a wimp. “And there’s wind too.” I opened the back door. “Love you.”

“You too. I won’t wait up.” She closed the door.

I rolled my eyes. The man had two children under the age of seven, and so I didn’t see me staying late. After securing the cookies and myself, I backed out of the garage, onto our street, and then off toward the mountains north of Mission City. During the drive, I tried to temper my expectations. Maybe he just needed an intermediary—although that seemed unlikely. Maybe he just needed someone new to amuse the kids—although I doubted that. Or maybe he needed someone to watch them while he did other things—although what those things might be, I had no idea.

My GPS informed me I’d arrived at my destination.

At least the driveway’s plowed. Still, I drove with caution down the narrow strip—gravel and ice crunching under my snow tires. Some people didn’t bother, as Mission City rarely got snow. As someone who had to get to work pretty much no matter what, I always had them. We’d had a few crazy days near Christmas where making it to Abbotsford had been nearly impossible. But I’d always reported for duty.

A cute house in a clearing came into view.

I struggled to come up with the right words to describe it. Not rustic…but not exactly modern. With dark-brown wood for the exterior, the rancher almost blended in with the environment. Well, except for the bright-white front door. The windows were large—to let in plenty of light. By my calculation, the front of the house faced west and would get plenty of afternoon sun when that sun made an appearance.

After parking next to Leo’s SUV, I snagged the plastic container and headed toward the front door.

Said door opened, and two little people barreled out.

“I’m Melodie, this is Trevor. Hi. We want to go sledding, but Papa said we had to wait for you.”

“Oh well, that’s nice you waited.”

The girl, who I knew was almost seven, appeared short for her age. Not that I knew about these things. She had black, curly hair, sky-blue eyes, and an adorable nose.

The cherub next to her, almost five, if memory served, was a decent height. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly upturned nose. Unlike his sister, he wasn’t smiling.

I offered the container of cookies. “For later, okay?”

Melodie cocked her head.

“Cookies.”

“Oh.” Her eyes lit. “Yes, later. Come.” She gestured for me to follow her.

Trevor kept eyeing me as we made our way in through the front door.

Nope, I’d been wrong. This house was rustic. With wood paneling, wood floors, wood beams for the ceiling, and every piece of furniture made of wood.Well, way to pick a theme and to stick to it.