by Linda Warren
“Say you love her. Jack loved her and the jewels mean nothing.”
“Cait…”
“Do you mind if I talk to her?” Chance asked. He didn’t know what to say to her, either, but decided to wing it. After all, he felt most of what had happened was his fault for bringing Shay here.
“No,” Judd answered quickly. “But when she’s angry, she’s hell to deal with.”
Chance took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Renee’s door. She yanked it open. “Don’t… Oh, Chance.” Clearly, she was expecting Judd.
Chance had never been inside Renee’s room before and it was a bit of a shock. Everything was pink and white, with ruffles and lace. Even the rug was white. He felt as if he was in Barbie land, and glanced down to make sure there was no mud on his boots.
Most of the jewelry was scattered across the bed, but the rings were in Renee’s hand.
“Judd chickened out, huh?” she asked.
Chance didn’t respond, and she added, “He’s so much like Jack, who could never handle deep, true emotions. Thank God Judd has Cait.”
“Yeah. He got lucky,” Chance agreed.
“Cait doesn’t take anything from Judd. She stands up to him and demands that he treat her as an equal, and he does.” Renee shook her head. “I let Jack walk all over me in our first marriage, but I demanded some respect in our second. I thought he’d changed but—” she glanced toward the bed “—he kept her jewelry.”
“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” Chance muttered.
“Hurt?” she screeched. “I’m not hurt. I’m damn angry.”
Chance had to dig deep to find the right words. “Jack loved you. You were his one true love.”
“Humph. Me and about thirty other women.”
Now Chance knew why Judd didn’t want to do this. Women loved to wring every last emotion out of a man. Jack had had only one feeling toward women—lust. And like other men, Chance didn’t want to broach that subject.
He stepped closer. “Don’t you think you’ve won? You’re here, living a pretty good life. She’s not. She’s dying of lung cancer and lives in a run-down neighborhood. The only thing she wants now is her wedding rings.”
Renee’s expression turned bitter. “She will never get them.”
“You’re not that cruel.” Chance spoke before he thought. He wasn’t taking Blanche’s side; he just felt a dying person should have her last wish granted. The feeling came out of nowhere and it surprised him.
“You don’t know me.”
He looked straight at Renee. “Oh, but I do. I’ve seen you with the twins and Judd and Cait. I helped you catch a stray cat and hungry dog so you could feed them. Remember that old goat that appeared out of nowhere, and you fed it until the owner showed up?”
A slight smile touched her lips. “That goat got up on Judd’s new truck and caved in the top. Oh, he was mad.”
There was silence for a moment and the bitterness seemed to tiptoe out the door.
“You have a happy life,” Chance said. “She doesn’t. Don’t forget that.”
Renee touched his cheek. “You’re such a nice young man. You should be married with kids.”
He frowned. “On that note, I’ll leave.” At the door he added, “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
“Thank you. We should never have let that young woman in the house.”
“But you liked her.”
Renee lifted an eyebrow. “So did you.”
He nodded and walked out. There was nothing left to say.
CHAPTER FOUR
CHANCE WENT DOWN the stairs thinking that at thirty-four he should be married. Suddenly, all he could see was green eyes. He shook his head. There was no future there.
He walked back to the study, then stopped. Judd sat there with his face in his hands—an odd posture for such a strong man.
“Are you okay?” Chance asked, moving into the room.
His head jerked up. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s fine. Like you said, she just needs to cool off.” Chance eyed his friend. “What’s wrong?” From the look on Judd’s face, he knew something was.
“I just heard from Walker.”
“And?” Chance had a feeling the news wasn’t good.
“She was born eight months after Blanche left here.”
“So she could be Jack’s daughter?”
“Yep.”
“I’m sorry, Judd.”
“Why?” he asked. “You didn’t do anything. If you hadn’t brought her to the house, she would have found another way to break into my safe. Our lives.”
Chance waited a second. “What are you planning on doing about it?”
“Have the damn numbers changed.”
“No, I mean about Shay.”
Judd looked up. “I’m not sure yet. Why?”
“I’d liked to ask a favor.” He’d promised Shay he would ask, and for some reason he felt she needed a break. The way her mother kept screaming at her had made him realize her life wasn’t easy.
“What?”
“That you not report it or have Shay arrested. She has a little girl to raise, and she was pressured by her dying mother. Shay is caretaker for both, and I don’t believe a woman like that should be in jail.”
Judd leaned back, his hands behind his head. “One favor deserves another.”
“What?” Chance couldn’t imagine what Judd could want from him.
“That you get Shay Dumont to take a DNA test. I’ll arrange it at a lab in Houston. Dad’s DNA and mine are on record in Austin. After all the lies Blanche told Dad about Mom, he wanted to make sure I was his. Nice family background, huh?” Judd leaned forward, not waiting for an answer. “I want to be positive before this goes any further.”
Chance hesitated and then said, “I’ll give it my best shot, but I have a feeling she’s going to resent being asked.”
Judd picked up a pen. “Is that a problem for you?”
Chance silently met the rancher’s knowing gaze.
“I’m getting a vibe that you like this woman.”
“Yes, I like her. She’s going through a rough time and has a young child to support.”
“Is there a husband in the picture?”
“No, and the child is adopted. Shay seems like a very nice person with a lot of bad stuff going on in her life. I mean bad people don’t adopt kids or take care of their dying mothers.”
“You have the biggest heart of anyone I know,” Judd murmured.
“You mean I’m a sucker for a sad story.”
“No, I mean you take people at face value. I’m too much like Dad to trust anyone.” Judd waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. Do we have a deal?”
Chance took a moment, wondering how he’d gotten into the middle of this. “Yes.” He picked up his hat and studied it. “There’s something else I’d like to talk about.”
“Your brothers?”
Chance looked up. “How did you know that?”
“You’ve been restless since Cadde inherited that oil company. Because of your father, the oil business is your first love.”
“Yeah.” Chance felt an ache in his heart. Shay’s situation made him realize keeping secrets could destroy people. He had to find a way to tell his brothers. “Cadde asked me to join him, but I like it here at Southern Cross.”
“If you’re worried about the ranch, Cait and I can handle it. Follow your dream, Chance. It only comes around once.”
His dream… Was it still the same as it had been when he was a kid—to work with his brothers? The only thing holding him back was what he knew and Cadde and Cisco didn’t. And, of course, his loyalty to Cait and Judd.
“I hate to leave at a time like this.”
“Go, Chance. Cait and I want only what’s best for you.”
Chance placed his hat on his head. “Then I guess I’m formally resigning as foreman of Southern Cross.”
They shook hands, and Chance hoped he didn’t regret this sudden decision. He had felt the pull
of his brothers ever since he’d talked to them at High Five. The Hardin boys against the world. They used to say that all the time. They’d first planned to be Texas Rangers, fighting for their home state. Then they’d decided to be firefighters, saving victims. But then the army sounded better. They’d fight for their country. Whatever they dreamed about, it always included a lot of fighting.
Their father would say his boys should get an education and not be roughnecks all their lives. That they would work their way up the ladder, learn the business and one day own an oil company. The best way to take on the world was with money, and there was a lot of money in the oil industry. And he would be there to help them every step of the way. But he wasn’t.
A WEEK LATER Chance had all his worldly belongings packed into a box and a suitcase. Not much to show for thirty-four years. The only thing he had of value was his truck, a share of his parents’ home, which was rotting away, and a hefty bank balance, that would now go into Shilah Oil. Before leaving High Cotton he made a sizable donation to the volunteer fire department.
He said a sad goodbye to the Calhouns and the Belle sisters. Aunt Etta and Uncle Rufus said they wanted him to be happy, but Aunt Etta cried as he left. That wasn’t easy.
As he neared Giddings he pulled over to the side of the county road and stared at the oak tree where his parents had died. Pieces of bark were missing where the car had hit it. One part of the tree was dead from the fire. Half dead, half alive. That’s how he felt inside.
Chance and his brothers had thought their father could walk on water. It was heartbreaking to find out he couldn’t. But only Chance knew that. It was time to tell Cadde and Cisco.
He said a silent goodbye and drove toward a new beginning, a new life.
In his right pocket was the address of a lab in Houston he had agreed to give Shay. Judd had called and arranged to have Jack’s DNA records transferred there.
As Chance pulled into Shay’s driveway, he saw four kids in the yard: Darcy, Petey and two other boys. Darcy had a baseball in her hand and she was holding it high, out of reach of the boy jumping for it.
Suddenly the boy pushed Darcy, and she threw the ball, hitting the kid in the chest. He fell to the ground moaning. The other boy then jumped on Darcy, punching her in the stomach, in the face, while Petey tried unsuccessfully to pull him off.
Chance leaped out of his truck and reached for the boy’s collar, yanking him away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shay flying across the neighbor’s yard. She sank down beside Darcy, who was now on the ground, her lip bleeding. Her glasses lay in the grass.
Shay tugged her blouse out of her jeans and used the end to wipe Darcy’s mouth. Then she glanced at the boy Chance was still holding by the collar. “What have you done to her?”
Chance pulled the boy forward. “Tell her what you did.”
“I hit her ’cause she hit my brother in the chest with the ball, and she’s mean.”
Shay helped Darcy to sit up. Petey retrieved her glasses and handed them over. “Why would she hit Michael in the chest?” Shay asked.
“Because he pushed her,” Petey said. “Real hard.”
“What was she doing with your baseball?”
Chance reached down and pulled the other boy to his feet. “Truth time, boys.”
Before they could answer, an overweight woman in flip-flops and a housedress rushed over from the house next door. “What’s going on? Why are you holding my boys?”
“They attacked a helpless girl.”
“Darcy? Helpless?” The woman laughed.
Shay rose to her feet and faced the woman, pointing a finger in her face. “You say one more word about Darcy and I’ll put your lights out, Velma. From now on keep your boys in your yard and I’ll keep Darcy in ours. If they step one foot over the line, I’m calling the police.”
“Don’t be silly, Shay. My boys meant her no harm.”
“Take a look at her lip. You call that no harm?” Fire lit up Shay’s green eyes.
Chance thought he should intervene before she did put her neighbor’s lights out. He tugged the boys forward. “Tell your mother what happened, and remember I saw the whole thing.”
But Petey answered, “Their ball came into the yard. Darcy was going to give it back, but Bruce called her some ugly names and she wouldn’t. They chased us to the front yard. Michael pushed Darcy and she threw the ball at him. Then Bruce jumped on her and hit her in the stomach and face.”
“You hit a girl much smaller than you, didn’t you,” Chance said.
Bruce hung his head.
“Go to the house,” Velma said to her sons.
“Not so fast, ma’am.” Chance held tight to the boys. “If Bruce or Michael harm Darcy again in any way, I’m going to come calling. And it won’t be friendly.” He let go of the boys and they ran home, followed by their mother.
Shay picked up Darcy and went into the house. Chance and Petey walked behind her. He wasn’t invited, but he went in anyway, wanting to make sure the little girl was okay. Closing the door, he glanced around. Worn carpet covered the floor and the furniture was old and shabby, but everything was clean and neat.
On the wall was a picture of a beautiful blonde holding a baby. It had to be Blanche and Shay. The adult Shay had a striking resemblance to her mother.
He walked to the sofa, where Shay had placed Darcy, and was now cleaning her wound. “It’s going to be blue tomorrow. It’s already swelling,” she murmured.
“I could have taken ’em,” Darcy muttered. “But he—” she pointed to Chance “—stopped ’em.”
Shay was kneeling on the floor, and sank back on her heels. “No fighting. Period. We’re going to have a long talk about this tonight. Very long.”
“Oh, jeez.” Darcy buried her face in the sofa.
“I gotta go,” Petey said, and grabbed his backpack.
Shay pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and poked in a number. She seemed very careful to ignore Chance. “Nettie, could you please finish up for me? Okay, thanks. I’ll talk to you later.” She rose to her feet. “Mr. Hardin, what are you doing here?” The fire was still in her eyes, but now it was directed at him.
“To talk to you.”
“As you can see, I’m very busy. Maybe you could come back later.” Or never, Shay thought. Whatever he wanted to discuss had to do with the Calhouns, she was sure. And she wasn’t in a mood for that.
“It’s important,” he said. “It won’t take long.”
He wasn’t going to budge. She could see that by the strong thrust of his chin, so decided she might as well get it over with.
She glanced at Darcy. “Stay put. I’ll get some ice for your lip.”
“Okay,” the girl muttered.
Shay turned to Chance. “I’ll talk to you in the kitchen.”
He settled down at the table without saying a word while she prepared the ice pack. His silence made her nervous as hell. She carried the ice to Darcy and found she was sound asleep. Pulling a cushion forward, she positioned the pack on it against the girl’s lip.
Then Shay straightened her spine and went to speak to Mr. Hardin. She had to get him out of the house before Blanche heard him. That deep Texas drawl could wake an angel, so her mom must be in a deep sleep. Glancing toward the bedroom, Shay decided she had better check. She didn’t want Chance and Blanche to meet. That could be dangerous.
Her mom was snoring away, so Shay hurried back to the kitchen and sank into a chair. “What is it, Mr. Hardin?”
“So friendly,” he said, his dark eyes watching her.
She felt a shiver run through her. “We’re not friends.”
“Guess not.” He leaned back in the old wooden chair and Shay thought how shabby the house must look to him. But she would not let him intimidate her. She was doing the best she could under very difficult circumstances. “It’s sort of a good news, bad news sort of thing,” he told her.
She blinked, losing her train of thought. “What?”
�
��Do you want the good or bad news first?”
“Don’t play games, Mr. Hardin,” she retorted.
“Judd agreed not to report the attempted robbery.”
“Oh.” Relief surged through her. “I appreciate that. But what’s the other part?”
He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and pushed it toward her.
She glanced at it. “The address and phone number of a lab in Houston… What has that got to do with me?”
With his eyes on her face, he said, “Judd would like for you to take a DNA test.”
Shay frowned. “Why?”
“To see if you’re Jack’s biological daughter. I’m sure you’re aware of that possibility.”
“It’s not a possibility. It’s a fact,” she said. “I’m not asking anything from Judd, so I don’t understand why he wants the test. Ever since I was a baby Mom has told me I was Jack’s daughter. The first words I learned were Jack Calhoun. I guess because my mother said his name so much. There’s no way Blanche would lie about that. Besides, she was living with him when I was conceived, Mr. Hardin. Believe me, I checked.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, and the truth will be on record. Judd is a fair man, and once he knows the truth, he’ll probably want to make a financial settlement.” Chance glanced around the kitchen. “I’m sure you could use the money.”
“What?” Fire shot through her veins. “My home’s not good enough for you, Mr. Hardin?”
His eyes held hers and she trembled. “First, I live in a bunkhouse that just has the necessities of life. It’s a place to sleep, eat and bathe. Second, would you please stop calling me Mr. Hardin?”
She felt about two feet tall and wanted to crawl under the table. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know. I’m not a Calhoun. My name is Chance.”
She knew that. “But you’re a big part of the Southern Cross.”
“Not anymore,” he said. “I’m on my way into Houston to join my brothers in an oil venture.”