The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter (6 page)

“Well, well, well,” Cody muttered beside him.

Harlan frowned at his son's knowing expression. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it's downright interesting to watch a woman twist you this way and that without even trying.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Cody grinned. “Then you're in an even more pitiful state of denial than I imagined. Want me to call in Jordan and Luke? Among us we probably have enough experience with women to give you any advice you need. Goodness knows we denied our feelings long enough to drive just about everyone around us to distraction. No sense in you doing the same thing, when we can save you all that time.”

“Go away.”

“Not till I'm through watching the entertainment,” Cody shot back as he sauntered over to his pickup. “‘Night, Daddy. Sweet dreams.”

Sweet?
Harlan could think of a dozen or more words to describe the kind of dreams Janet
Runningbear inspired and “sweet” would be very low on the list. Provocative. Seductive. Steamy. Erotic. He had to go inside the air-conditioned house just to cool off from the images.

He consoled himself with the possibility that their first two meetings might have been aberrations. Boredom could play funny tricks on a man. The first thing that came along to relieve it might get exaggerated in importance.

Yes, indeed, that had to be it, he decided as he settled into a chair in his office with a book he'd been wanting to read for some time. A good, page-turning thriller was exactly what he needed tonight. That ought to get his juices flowing better than a leggy, sassy woman.

But the words swam in front of his eyes. His thoughts kept drifting to the enigmatic woman who presented such a placid, reserved facade. He'd enjoyed sparking confusion in those dark, mysterious eyes. He'd relished making a little color climb into her cheeks. Janet Runningbear wasn't nearly as serene around him as she wanted desperately for him to believe.

He also had the feeling, virtually confirmed by her earlier, that there were secrets to be discovered, hidden reasons behind her decision to relocate to Texas.

As a kid he'd been fascinated by stories of buried treasure. He'd spent endless hours searching for arrowheads left behind by Native Americans who'd roamed over the very land on which White Pines had been built. Somewhere in the house, probably in
Cody's old room, there was a cigar box filled with such treasures.

If Janet Runningbear had secrets, he would discover them eventually. He'd make a point of it.

And then what? He wasn't the kind of man who courted a woman just for sport. He never had been. He'd tried to instill the same set of values in his sons, tried to teach them never to play games with women who didn't fully understand the rules.

Everything about Janet that he'd seen so far shouted that she was a woman deserving of respect, a single parent struggling to put a new life together for herself and her daughter. If he was only looking for diversion, would it be fair to accomplish it at the expense of a woman like that? It was the one question for which he had an unequivocal answer: no!

So, he resolved, he would tame his natural impatience and take his time with her, measuring his feelings as well as hers. It was the only just way to go.

But even as he reached that carefully thought-out decision, the part of him that leapt to impetuous, self-confident conclusions told him he was just delaying the inevitable. He'd made up his mind the minute he'd walked into her office that he wanted her and nothing—not his common sense, not her resistance—was going to stand in his way for long. “Where the devil have you been?” Mule asked in his raspy, cranky voice when Harlan finally got back into town on Saturday after four whole days of trying to keep Jenny Runningbear in line. “Ain't seen you since that gal stole your truck.”

Mule's expression turned sly. “Word around town is that you've got her working out at White Pines.”

Harlan tilted his chair back on two legs and sipped on the icy mug of beer Rosa had set in front of him the minute he sat down. “Is that what you're doing with your time these days, sitting around gossiping like an old woman?” he asked Mule.

“It's about all there is to do since you dropped out of our regular poker game to play nursemaid to that brat.”

Harlan accepted the criticism without comment. Mule grumbled about everything from the weather to politics. His tart remarks about Harlan's perceived defection were pretty much in character and harmless.

Mule's watery hazel eyes narrowed. “I don't hear you arguing none.”

“What would be the point? You think you know everything there is to know about the situation.”

“Meaning, you think I don't, I suppose. Okay, so fill me in. Why'd you hire her?”

“Because she owes me a lot of money for repairs to my pickup,” he said simply. “You ought to know. I had it towed to your garage.”

“Ain't had time to take a look at it,” Mule said.

“When are you planning to end this so-called vacation of yours?”

“Who says I am? I'm getting so I enjoy having nothing to do. Maybe I'll just retire for good.”

Harlan nodded. “You're old enough, that's for sure. What are you now, eighty?”

Mule regarded him with obvious indignation. “Sixty-seven, which you know danged well.”

“Of course,” he said. “Must be that boredom ages a person, lets his mind go weak.”

“There ain't a thing wrong with my mind.”

“Then I'd think you'd be itching to tackle a job like that truck of mine.”

“I'll get to it one of these days,” Mule said. “When I'm of a mind to.”

“If you don't plan on going back to work, maybe you ought to sell the garage. The town needs a good mechanic. Cody had to fix Janet Runningbear's air-conditioning the other night, because you're on this so-called extended vacation of yours.”

“Bet he ruined it,” Mule commented with derision. “Air-conditioning's tricky.”

“It's been working ever since,” Harlan said, deliberately setting out to goad the old coot into going back to the job he'd loved. “You know Cody has a way with mechanical things. He's probably better than you ever were and he's not even in the business. Maybe I'll have my truck towed out to White Pines and have him take a look at it.”

Mule set his beer down with a thump. “I told you I'd get to it.”

“When?”

Mule sighed. “First thing on Monday.”

“Fair enough.”

“Just don't start bugging me about when it'll be done. Decent work takes time and concentration.”

Which meant it might take months before he saw that pickup again, Harlan decided. Still, he couldn't regret his decision to have the truck taken to Mule's garage, rather than someplace bigger or fancier in another town.

His friend had closed up shop almost three months ago for no reason Harlan had been able to discern. He'd been on this strike of sorts ever since. He wasn't likely to be happy again until he had his head poked under the hood of a car.

“Don't look now, but that brat is heading this way,” Mule announced. “With her mama. Whoo-ee, she sure is a looker, isn't she?”

Harlan tried not to gape as Janet came into Rosa's wearing a vibrant red sundress that bared tanned shoulders and swung loosely around shapely calves. Her straight, shiny hair hung halfway down her back like a shimmering waterfall of black silk. He stood automatically at the sight of her.

“You again?” Jenny greeted him irritably. “This is my day off. I thought I'd get a break. Shouldn't you be mucking out stalls or something? I hope you're not planning to leave `em untouched all weekend and expect me to clean up the mess on Monday.”

He grinned. “It's nice to see you, too,” he commented, and winked at her mother. “Even nicer to see you. Care to join us?”

Janet glanced at her daughter's sour expression, then back at him. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. The company might ruin your appetite.”

“I'll take my chances,” Harlan said. “By the way, this is Mule Masters.”

“The vacationing mechanic,” Janet said, smiling at him.

“Not anymore,” Mule grumbled, ignoring the hand she held out. Apparently he had more resistance than Harlan did to Janet's dazzling smile.

“He'll be back on the job on Monday,” Harlan explained. “Hopefully his manners will improve by then, as well.”

“When a car's as old as mine, it pays to know a good mechanic and I hear you're the best around,” she said.

Harlan was impressed that she apparently had not taken offense at Mule's deliberate slight. Maybe she'd been able to judge for herself that it wasn't personal. Mule was just a cantankerous old man. Could be, too, that she'd just weighed his manners against her need for a decent mechanic and decided to ignore his grumpiness.

At her praise for his skill, Mule shot Harlan a triumphant look. “Cody couldn't be that danged good, after all, if she's still on the lookout for somebody who knows his business.”

“Cody was just doing me a favor,” she acknowledged.

“You get what you pay for,” Mule noted in a dire tone as Janet and Jenny sat down in the chairs Harlan pulled out for them.

“As you can see, Jenny's not the only one at the table with an attitude,” Harlan commented. “I've been putting up with Mule for years, partly because he keeps my cars running, but mostly because he loses regularly at poker.”

“I can play poker,” Jenny chimed in. “You guys play for money?”

“Is there any other way to play?” Mule retorted. “Don't play with girls, though.”

“Why not?” Jenny demanded. “That sounds like a sexist policy to me. Either open your game to girls or I'll have Mama see that it's closed down.”

Mule stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. Harlan chuckled at the reaction. Jenny had been throwing him off stride the same way all week long.

“Don't play with girls,” Mule repeated irritably.

Jenny pulled ten dollars out of her pocket and slapped it on the table. “My money's good.”

Janet sighed. “Jenny, that's your allowance for the entire week. If you lose it playing poker, you're out of luck.”

Jenny's chin rose a notch. “I don't intend to lose,” she declared, leveling a challenging look straight at Mule. “You scared to play me?”

“Dang, but you've got a mouth on you,” Mule commented. He glanced at Harlan. “Think we should bring her down a peg or two?”

“No,” Harlan said succinctly, his gaze fixed on Janet as he tried to gauge her reaction. “She's already in debt up to her eyeballs.”

“That's okay,” Janet said. “If she wants to risk her allowance, it's up to her. Of course, I'm going to hate like crazy having to defend all three of you, if you get caught gambling illegally.”

“Won't happen,” Mule informed her. “Sheriff eats over at DiPasquali's every day. He's sweet on the daughter. Can't budge him out of there for anything less than murder.”

Jenny grinned. “All right. Where are the cards?”

Harlan sighed and resigned himself to teaching Janet's rebellious daughter yet another lesson. He glanced into Janet's surprisingly amused eyes. “You
in?” he asked her as Mule shuffled the worn deck he'd pulled from his pocket.

“No, I think I'll just sit here and enjoy the competition. I try real hard not to deliberately break the law, even when there's not much chance of getting caught.”

“And here I had you pegged for a risk-taker,” Harlan taunted.

Color flooded her cheeks. “Depends on the risk and the odds,” she snapped right back. “Some are worth taking. Some aren't.”

He winked at her. “I'll bet it's going to be downright fascinating figuring out which are which.”

She swallowed hard and turned away. “Rosa,” she called. “A beer, please.”

That choked voice had Harlan smiling. “Throat dry?” he inquired.

“Parched,” she admitted, meeting his gaze evenly. She ran her tongue over her lips. “Absolutely parched.”

Maybe the gesture was innocent. Maybe not. Harlan doubted he'd ever know for sure. One thing was certain, she could best him at his own game anytime. The sight of that pink tongue delicately sliding over those lush red lips turned his blood hotter than asphalt on a Texas summer afternoon.

It also rattled his concentration so bad that he lost the first hand of poker to Jenny. So did Mule, which suggested that the thirteen-year-old just might know a little more about the game and gambling than he'd suspected.

He glanced up from his second hand to find Janet's gaze fixed on him. She leaned forward, which caused
her sundress to dip a provocative inch or so, revealing just enough cleavage to make his own throat go dry.

“Mind if I take a look?” she inquired, placing her hand over his and turning his cards in her direction.

Harlan sucked in a breath as every muscle in his body tightened at that innocent, cool touch. He glanced into her eyes and changed his mind. There was nothing innocent about that touch. She knew exactly what she was doing. He pulled his cards out of her grasp.

“Trying to rattle me, darlin'?” he asked, amused by the blatant tactic.

Her eyes widened. “Why would I do that?”

“Maybe to protect Jenny's allowance,” he suggested.

She grinned and shrugged, clearly not the least bit guilty at having been caught. “Hey, us gals have to stick together.”

Mule stood, his whole demeanor radiating indignation. “A man would get shot for cheatin' at cards.”

Harlan shook his head at his friend's idea of saloon-style justice. “Sit down, old man. I believe Ms. Runningbear will behave from now on out.” He met her gaze. “Isn't that right?”

“I'll be innocent as a lamb,” she promised. “Hands on the table. Eyes straight ahead. Lips locked.”