A Dream of His Own. Gail Gaymer Martin
her. “And a deductible.” His head lowered as if he were looking for a further response on the floor.
Though the deductible was correct, Ava still didn’t understand his determination to pay. “I have a job.” The income wasn’t great, but it was a job. “I don’t need charity.”
He lifted his head, his expression darkened by her judgment. “I know you aren’t looking for a handout, and I’m sorry it came across the wrong way.”
Her teeth clamped over the inside of her bottom lip, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I—” She straightened her shoulders. “We haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Ava Darnell.” She extended her hand as much for goodwill as for her introduction.
Quinn peered at it a second before grasping it. “Quinn O’Neill.”
Definitely Irish. She gave his hand a firm shake. “Let’s hear the estimate before you make offers, okay?”
Though his eyes darkened, he nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed to find the floor interesting.
She settled into silence, trying to understand this man. His offer to pay for her repairs seemed odd, but it took all kinds of people to make up the world. Maybe he was a staunch Christian compelled to show kindness or generosity. Whatever it was, she hoped he wasn’t a scam artist. She flinched, realizing her attitude stemmed from her late husband Tom’s financial problems. She had to be more trusting. He said he knew Lexie and Ethan. Still, being a single woman always put the fear of being ripped off in the forefront of her mind.
* * *
Quinn watched Ava in his peripheral vision. Her determination to resist his help drove him crazy. On the other hand, he admired her, too—her pride and her self-assurance. He couldn’t help but notice how she’d charged from her car after she’d parked outside. She walked with a decisive manner, her head high and her solid frame giving her an air of knowing what she was doing.
Lydia had a way of carrying herself that showed her confidence and her receptiveness. That’s what had attracted him when he met her. She’d made a perfect wife for him, the owner of a prestigious business. She knew how to plan excellent dinner parties and how to add elegance to even the simplest event. He couldn’t imagine meeting another woman like Lydia, and yet today those attributes weren’t as important as they had been. After her death, he’d readjusted his priorities. His old life had been self-centered, more driven to earn status and wealth. Now other things were more important.
When Ava shifted in the chair, her knee bumped his. He lifted his gaze to her face, aware she had something on her mind.
“It’s difficult being a single parent.”
One of his questions had been answered. She was single as he suspected. “How old is your son?”
“He turned fifteen a few weeks ago.”
His lungs drained of air. His son had been fifteen when he died—full of life, strong and ready to tackle the world and often his father. The trait had grinded Quinn, and his own determination grew to show Sean who was boss. He’d done it the day Sean and Lydia died in the horrendous car crash when a drunk driver hit them head-on.
The day burst into his mind. Tired of jumping to Sean’s every whim, he’d said no to his nagging about taking him out to practice driving. The new learner’s permit burned in Sean’s hand. Despite his son’s insistence, he’d refused, but Lydia determined if he wouldn’t take Sean for a driving lesson, she would. He didn’t stop her. The old ache knifed his chest. If he’d given in and gone with Sean that day, the accident may have been avoided. He would have been quicker to grab the wheel than Lydia. She rarely drove.
His lawyer insisted on suing, and they’d won, but the money meant nothing to him. It couldn’t buy back his wife and son. It couldn’t fill his empty heart. It couldn’t replace everything that was precious. That’s when he realized that his business, his wealth, his success meant nothing at all. He’d cursed God. A God who promised to be faithful. A God who assured His children He heard their prayers. For so long those empty promises controlled his life. But time healed even the deepest wound, and he’d made restitution with the Lord, clawing his way up from darkness into the light of faith. He would never have survived without it.
Quinn’s thoughts cleared, and he noticed Ava looking at him. How long had he been silent? “Fifteen. They can be difficult at that age.”
She studied him a moment as if curious about his silence. “You must have experience with teens.”
Her comment tore into his heart, and he couldn’t speak.
But it didn’t seem to matter. For her, talking seemed more urgent. “Teens get to a certain age, and they think they know everything. I’m sure you’ve experienced that?”
“Teens are teens.” He didn’t want to encourage the line of conversation. As Ava studied him, his skin crawled.
Then she fell silent for a moment. But after taking a lengthy breath, she turned to him again. “Brandon has Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
A knife ripped him again. Though he wanted to say something kind or wise, he couldn’t find the words.
Yet her voice brightened. “But he’s in remission. I’m so grateful.”
She waited for his response, but he still couldn’t go there. His own loss weighted his mind. Finally he managed a “that’s great.” But not wanting to continue the conversation, he did the next best thing. He tried to lighten his tone. “So you purchased washers, O-rings and a wrench at the hardware.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but he wanted an answer.
“Of all things, my kitchen faucet leaks.” She offered a fleeting grin that sent his pulse skittering. “I plan to fix it myself.”
His heart rate escalated as her smile lines deepened. “You’ll fix it?” Grateful for the new topic, his mind wrapped around a dimple flickering in her cheek. He tried to picture her repairing the leak. His only involvement in repairing a faucet had consisted of paying the plumber.
Her brows lifted. “I read articles on how to do plumbing repairs on the internet. It’s not hard, and it saves money.”
Hearing her reference awakened his regret. He had more money than he needed. She had to tighten her finances while dealing with a seriously ill son. Her courage amazed him.
Quinn studied her profile, his gaze lingering on her ear decorated with a small jeweled earring, the stone the color of a leaf budding in spring. She wore her hair short but with a slight wave curving at her neck. On the left side, she tucked the strands behind her ear.
As his thoughts sank in, Quinn cringed and glanced away. He needed to get a grip. Why would he feel so much concern for a woman he’d only met an hour ago? His emotional reaction irritated him. Yet unable to control his thoughts, he let his gaze drift back to Ava. Proud, strong and capable seemed a good description. A grin played on his lips. He could never picture Lydia shopping at a hardware store and fixing a faucet.
Her eyebrow arched as if she’d noticed his half grin. “You think women can’t do plumbing?”
He was the one who couldn’t. “No. I think some women can do anything they set their mind to.”
“You have more faith in me than I have, but I’m going to do my best.”
His stomach churned as he witnessed her brave admission. “I’m only a novice, but could I help?”
Her head jerked upward with question.
“Maybe I could give you a hand…that is, if you run into problems.” Air streamed from his lungs as he faced the dumbest suggestion he’d ever made. What did he know about plumbing? He shrank into a chair. “I’ll give you my phone number, and you can give me a call.” And he could contact a plumber. His shoulders relaxed.
“Thanks. You’re