The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter (12 page)

For the life of him, he couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Until he could figure it out, he settled for taming the electricity arcing through the air so they could get through the rest of the day without giving Jenny something more to fret about.

He winked at her. “Come on, woman. Why are you standing there? We've got fried chicken and potato salad and coleslaw to serve up. You must be starving after that ride.”

She visibly shook off the uncertainties that had held her still. “You're right. I am famished.” She scanned the creek bank until she found Jenny, then called her, just a hint of desperation in her voice. “Come on, sweetie. Lunch is ready.”

Harlan settled himself in his favorite position against the tree and listened to Janet and Jenny chatter through lunch. If there was a nervous edge to the conversation, he chalked it up to the electricity that his best effort had failed to diffuse. For better or worse, the attraction humming between Janet and him
was powerful stuff. It needed only a chance look, a casual touch, to set it off.

“Is the creek deep enough to swim in?” Jenny asked after they'd eaten. “I wore my suit under my jeans.”

“How'd you know about the creek and guess we'd be coming here?” Harlan asked, more amused than ever by her earlier grudging comparison of the creek to the ocean.

“Cody showed me,” she said, shrugging, her expression all innocence. “He said it was your favorite place. When you invited Mom to go riding, I knew you'd end up here.”

That explained the swimsuit and her earlier derisive reaction. The creek had probably looked much more interesting when she'd been here with Cody, Harlan decided. It also explained her determination to come along today. She hadn't wanted her mother alone with him in such a romantic setting.

“Can I go in the water, Mom?”

“Not right after lunch,” Janet said at once.

“She'll be fine,” Harlan said. “The creek's only waist high at its deepest.”

Janet still seemed uneasy—about the swim or being left alone with him, it was hard to tell—but she gave permission.

“You could go in, too,” Harlan said when Jenny had run off.

“I didn't wear my suit,” she said.

“That's not a problem. Strip down over behind those trees. I won't peek. Cross my heart.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, amusement making her eyes sparkle.

Harlan's pulse bucked like a bronco. She looked ten years younger all of a sudden. That was the way of flirting, he decided. It lifted spirits and drained away problems, at least for a moment in time. It brought back that starry-eyed anticipation that regrettably seemed to fade once youth had passed by.

“If it's all the same to you, I'll stay right here, where it's safe,” she said.

“Darlin', if you think it's safe here with me, your judgment has more problems than that old car of yours.”

To his surprise, she grinned. “But you're an honorable man and you've already promised that absolutely nothing will happen as long as Jenny is around.”

“That promise didn't allow for the temptation factor. You keep taunting me and I can't be responsible for my actions.”

“Then by all means, let's change the subject. Tell me about White Pines.”

He leaned back against the tree and linked his hands behind his head just to keep himself from reaching for her.

“It's been in my family since the time of the Civil War,” he said, thinking back to all the history that Mary had loved so deeply. She'd been far more fascinated by the Adams legacy than he had been. He'd just loved the land and ranching. It was as deeply ingrained in his blood as whatever DNA there was to identify him.

“That's how it got its name,” he continued. “My ancestors moved here from the South and called it White Pines, just like the plantation that had been burned to the ground by Yankee soldiers. Texas seemed like a land of opportunity back then, I suppose. They came here with very little, but with grit and determination the next generations added to that beginning until it became what you see today. The Mexican settlers in the area named the town Los Piños after the ranch, which provided work for so many of the families.”

At some point as he talked, a change came over Janet's face. Suddenly she was more aloof than ever and a kind of seething resentment burned in her eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, thoroughly bemused by the change in her.

“Not really,” she said, and stood, brushing off her jeans.

The innocent gesture drew attention to her shapely rear end and had Harlan's blood sizzling like an adolescent boy's. But he was too puzzled by the abrupt change in her demeanor to enjoy his reaction for very long.

“Janet?”

“We'd better be getting back.”

“You'll stay for supper,” he said, making it more a matter-of-fact statement than a question.

She hesitated for just an instant, clearly wrestling with indecision, her expression uncertain, then shook her head. “No. That wouldn't be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“It just wouldn't, that's all. We've taken up too much of your time as it is.”

Harlan frowned. “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it,” she muttered. With that, she bolted in the direction of where Jenny was swimming in the creek. “Jenny, come on now, sweetie. It's time to go.”

Janet's strange mood lasted all the way back to the house. For the life of him, Harlan couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. One thing was certain, though. Janet was far more of a mystery than the woman who'd been his mate for more than thirty-five years.

She was strong, as Mary had been. But she was also fiercely independent, burned by what he could only guess had been a lousy childhood and an even lousier marriage. There were apparently other dark secrets he hadn't even begun to discover.

Whatever those secrets might be, he had the feeling her heart had turned to ice in the process. Knowing that might have discouraged some men, but not him. He had a hunch that melting it was going to be downright interesting.

N
o amount of persuading had been able to convince Janet and Jenny to stay for supper on Saturday or to return on Sunday. Harlan decided he must be losing his touch. He thought he'd tried some very inventive arguments, along with a little subtle flirting and a few dares. There had been a brief spark in Janet's eyes at one point, but she'd still managed to decline the invitation, albeit with a satisfyingly obvious hint of regret in her voice.

Watching them leave, he resigned himself to waiting impatiently for Monday morning when Janet would return to drop off Jenny. Maybe then Jenny would be able to shed some light on her mother's abrupt shift in mood.

In the meantime, the hours stretched out ahead of him, promising nothing but tedium. Now that he was starting to feel alive again, he was even less tolerant of the prospect than he had once been.

Short of booting Cody out of his position as ranch manager, he wasn't sure what to do about it. Los Piños was too small a town to need an influential citizen meddling in its affairs. State or national politics had never intrigued him. In fact, the only things that had ever mattered to him were his family and the ranch.

After church on Sunday, he spent most of the remainder of the morning wandering through all the empty rooms at White Pines, trying to remember the days when his sons had made the kind of racket that drove Mary nuts, trying to imagine the big old house echoing with laughter once again.

Jenny's presence lately had given him a delightful hint of what it might be like, at least when she let down her guard long enough to act like a regular thirteen-year-old. Occasionally she and some of Maritza's younger relations would whoop it up in the kitchen, usually when she counted on him being out of earshot. The joyous sound, when he happened to catch it, brightened his day.

Now, though, he tried to picture the generations before him, who had built the ranch into a thriving enterprise. He knew almost nothing about those early days beyond the scant information he'd shared with Janet. Mary had always been exasperated with him for caring so little about the past. He'd been more concerned with the future, with making White Pines into a legacy for his sons and their children.

Ironically, only Cody had really cared about his heritage. Ranching was in his blood, just as it had been in Harlan's. Luke had loved ranching well enough, but he'd had a milewide independent streak
that pushed him into starting up his own place, not just as proof that he could succeed at it, but to best his father. Cody had the same goal, it seemed to him. He was just more willing to fight Harlan one-on-one, on his home turf. He seemed to thrive on the war of wills.

Jordan and Erik hadn't been interested in White Pines or ranching at all. In fact, it had been attempts to force Erik into a life that was never right for him that had ultimately led to his death. Riding a tractor one day at Luke's, he'd gotten careless. The tractor had rolled over on him and killed him, leaving Jessie a widow and expecting his child.

Ultimately, Luke had claimed both mother and child, a beautiful Christmas baby named Angela. As happy as they were, Harlan wondered sometimes if they'd ever forget the cost at which that happiness had come.

With Jordan in the oil business and living at the ranch that had belonged to his wife Kelly's family, now only Cody and Melissa and their kids remained at White Pines. Even they, however, lived in their own home, rather than in one of the suites that had been created to house new generations at a time when Harlan had imagined spending his golden years surrounded by family. They were close by, but not nearly close enough to keep him from rattling around in these lonely old rooms.

Only a few hours after his uncommon bout of self-pity, Harlan cursed himself for regretting the lack of company. It just proved that a man should be careful what he wished for.

Cody and Melissa arrived on his doorstep first with their kids, Sharon Lynn and Harlan Patrick. He could tell right off this was no drop-by visit for a quick hello. They seemed ready to settle down for a bit. They'd brought along enough paraphernalia for the kids to entertain them until nightfall.

Luke and Jessie were hard on their heels with precious, sweet-faced Angela. Jordan and Kelly turned up within minutes after that with Dani and Justin James. It was a conspiracy, no doubt about that. He didn't believe for a second they'd all shown up just to get a decent meal from Maritza.

Apparently his housekeeper had known they were coming, though. He noticed that she'd set places for every traitorous one of them at his table.

“So, Daddy, anything interesting going on around here?” Luke inquired after Maritza had served a prime rib big enough to feed an expected crowd, but far too big to pass off as something she'd prepared just for one. Not even his impudent housekeeper was brazen enough to suggest she was having to stretch the lavish spread of food to accommodate unexpected guests.

“Other than the lot of you showing up to beg a meal?” he retorted. “Not a thing.”

“Have you met the new lawyer in town?” Jordan inquired with a perfectly straight face. “What's her name? Janet Runningbear? I've spotted her a couple of times myself. She's gorgeous. You thought so, too, didn't you, Cody?”

Harlan scowled at Cody and Melissa, who were looking about as innocent as a couple of tattletales could. If he'd had any doubts about his youngest son
having the biggest mouth in the family, his proof was sitting around his dining room table right now.

It was obvious Luke and Jessie and Jordan and Kelly knew every last detail of his fledgling fascination with Janet Runningbear. They'd probably been told the second Cody had finished listening to all of his confessions about that night in Janet's kitchen. That poker game at Rosa's hadn't helped. What Cody hadn't blabbed himself, Rosa had.

“We've met,” he admitted tersely, trying hard to avoid making the kind of revelations that would invite more taunting.

Cody chuckled, then covered his face with a napkin to hide his smile.

“Damn your hide, boy,” Harlan said to his youngest. “You got any control whatsoever over that mouth of yours?”

“I can't imagine what you mean,” Cody declared, feigning a hurt expression that was about as believable as the ones he'd worn on his chocolate-streaked face when he'd sworn he'd never been near the cookie jar.

“If anyone's to blame, it's you,” Cody added, trying to pass on the guilt. “You're the one who made a spectacle of yourself at Rosa's. It was the hottest story on the Los Piños grapevine for a solid week. Mule filled in any gap Rosa left in the story. Seemed to enjoy it, too. All I did was confirm a few facts, when asked directly.”

“It was a poker game, not a spectacle,” Harlan retorted defensively. “Playing cards wasn't a crime last time I checked.”

“From what I heard, poker wasn't exactly the only game being played that afternoon,” Jordan chimed in with a wicked grin.

Harlan resigned himself to sitting back and taking whatever they were of a mind to dish out. To his surprise, though, he found an unexpected ally in Jessie. She reached over and patted his hand.

“I think all of you should leave your father alone,” she protested to the others, a twinkle in her blue eyes. “He obviously doesn't require your meddling in order to have a social life.”

All three of his sons hooted. “Meddling?” Luke said to his wife. “You call this meddling? This is child's play compared to what he put all of us through. You and me included, in case you've forgotten.”

“I still think you should leave him alone,” Jessie repeated firmly.

“Thank you,” Harlan said. “But I think you're wasting your breath with this band of hooligans.”

“I still have a little influence with one of them,” she said, shooting a pointed look at Luke, who was seated on her other side.