The Mighty Quinns: Dermot-Dex

“Right,” Ernie said. “I’m just going to go get the keys so you can take it for a test drive. You’re gonna love it.”

Kieran watched him leave, then bent close to Maddie. “I thought you were going to let me do the talking.”

“I was. But then I saw this car. It’s a sign. I have to have it. It’s a pink Cadillac.”

“I can see that.”

“You know. The song, ‘Pink Cadillac’? I sang it on my first album. This is the car for me. I want this one.”

“It’s pink, it’s forty years old, it probably gets about five miles to the gallon and it’s got rear wheel drive which will be impossible on ice and snow.”

“Well, I like pink, it’s vintage, I’m not going to drive it cross country so I don’t care how much gas costs, and I just won’t drive when it snows. I want you to buy this one for me.” She reached into her pocket and gave him her debit card. “There’s more than enough in the account to cover it,” she added.

“At least let me check it out?”

Maddie nodded, watching nervously as Kieran slowly circled the car, examining it closely. “It looks clean, no rust.”

“The interior is spotless,” Ernie said, returning with the keys. “And the engine purrs like a kitten. It was overhauled at 30,000 miles.”

“A kitten,” Maddie said. “It’s a beautiful car.”

“It’s a car,” Kieran agreed. “But it’s pink. That’s going to hurt the resale value.”

“It’s cute,” Maddie insisted, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah,” the salesman said. “We get that comment a lot. Not the cute thing, but the re-sale value. So, let me cut off a thousand from the sticker price. I’ll give it to you for fourteen.”

“We’ll take it,” Maddie said.

“No, we won’t,” Kieran countered. “Not until we take it for a spin.”

She gave Kieran a seductive smile as she ran her hand over the white leather seat. “Baby, don’t you wonder what it feels like in the back of my pink Cadillac? See, this car is sexy. This is my car.”

Kieran groaned inwardly as he stepped closer. Was it even worth trying to rein her in? If she wanted to blow her money on a pink car, who was he to complain? “It does have a nice big backseat,” he conceded in a low voice. “But you can’t let him know you love it.”

“Why not?” she whispered.

“Because, it’s all part of the art of negotiation,” he said. “Leave it to me. You never pay full price for a used car.”

“But he just gave us a thousand off. If you negotiate me out of this car, you’re going to have to do some talking to get yourself back into my good graces,” she warned. “And that includes the bedroom. Now, are you willing to take that risk?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now wipe that smile off your face and go look at that rusty old pickup. And don’t say anything. Got it?”

“Got it,” Maddie said.

5

“I THOUGHT YOU were going to be quiet,” Kieran shouted over the sound of the wind.

They were driving south on I-65, the top down, the warm breeze blowing around them. In the west, the sky was aflame with pinks and purples as the sun set on a beautiful August day.

“Me? Quiet? You were asking the impossible. Besides, you have to admit, this car is seriously cool. It’s perfect for me. It’s got some attitude. And it’s worth every dollar we paid for it.”

“Now you just have to learn to drive it.”

“And you’re going to teach me,” she said. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Kieran reached over and wove his fingers through the hair at her nape, pulling her toward him for a quick kiss. Maddie smiled, then sank back into the soft leather seats. How had life gone from worrisome to wonderful in just a few short days? She was happy, she was content. All the concerns that had plagued her last week had disappeared and she felt free for the first time since she was a kid.

“So where are we going?” Kieran asked. “Besides south.”

“Bitney,” Maddie said. “I want to see my grandparents. I’m growing tired of the road. And since you’re going to teach me to drive, I’m going teach you how to ride a horse.”

He nodded. “All right. If we don’t stop, we can probably get there sometime after midnight. Do you need to call your grandparents and let them know you’re coming?”

“That would require turning on my phone,” she said. “And I just don’t want to look at it yet.”

“Then why don’t we find a place to stay tonight and we’ll surprise them tomorrow morning?”

Maddie nodded. “Hey, I’m sorry I messed up your negotiations for the car. I’m sometimes a little impatient. But, I promise I’ll let you negotiate next time. I won’t say a word.”

“I suppose I should just be happy that we didn’t buy six cars so you could try them all out before you decided which one you wanted.”

“Ha, ha,” she said. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

“There is one thing,” Kieran said, reaching out to grab her hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed her wrist. “That card you gave me to pay for the car. It was for a Sarah M. Westerfield. And that’s the name you signed.”

“I’m named after my grandmother,” she said. “My middle name is Madeline. My mother thought Sarah Westerfield wasn’t a good name for a country star so from the time I was fourteen, she’s been calling me Maddie West.”

“Sarah,” he said. “I like that. But I think I’m going to have to stick with Maddie.”

“My grandparents still call me Sarah sometimes,” she said. “I don’t always answer to that name though.”

“Tell me about them,” he said. “Do they live near Bitney?”

Maddie nodded. “About fifteen miles. It isn’t far. There’s not a lot in Bitney. A feed store, a few taverns, a post office. Oh, and Charlie Morgan’s place. It’s a roadhouse.”

“And your grandparents have a horse farm?”

“It’s not a regular horse farm, where they breed horses. Although, my grandfather used to train racehorses at the farm. But now, it’s more like a retirement home for horses.”

Kieran glanced over at her, frowning. “A retirement home? I didn’t know there were such things.”

“When a horse gets too old or is injured, there are only two places for it to go. The glue factory, which is a euphemism for something I refuse to talk about. Or a farm, like my grandparents’ place. They take horses that no one wants anymore. Those that are injured, they rehabilitate and then sell to people who want them for recreational riding. Some just live on the farm until they die of natural causes.”

“Wow. That’s pretty amazing.”

“My mother doesn’t know it, but I send them all my royalty money. The farm is ridiculously expensive to run, but they have plenty of money to buy feed and vet care.”