The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter

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The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter Page 2

by Sherryl Woods

Harlan’s expression remained solemn and thoughtful. “You know,” he said, “I used to teach my sons that tears made a man seem weak. The past year or so, I’ve had a change of heart. I think it takes someone pretty strong to acknowledge when they’re feeling vulnerable and then deal straight-out with the pain they’re going through.”

  Janet guessed right off that it was his wife’s death that had brought him to a change of heart. The word on Mary Adams was mixed, according to the gossip that folks had been eager to share. Some thought she’d been an elegant, refined lady. Others thought she was a cold, uppity witch. One thing no one disputed, however, was that Harlan Adams had adored her and that she had doted on him.

  Janet had wondered more than once what it would be like to love anyone with such passion. Her own marriage had been lukewarm at best and certainly not up to the kind of tests it had been put through. She’d been relieved to call it quits, eager to move far from New York and its memories to the land Lone Wolf had described with such bittersweet poignancy. She had legally taken the name he’d dubbed her with as soon as she’d settled in town. A new name, a fresh start for her and Jenny.

  She glanced up and realized that Harlan’s warm gaze was fixed on her. He was regarding her with more of that compassion that made her want to weep.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on with that girl of yours?” he offered. “Maybe we can figure this thing out together.”

  Surprised at the relief she felt at having someone with whom to share her concerns, Janet tried to describe what the past few weeks had been like. “I thought coming here was going to make such a difference for Jenny,” she said. “Instead, she’s behaving as if I’ve punished her by moving from New York to Texas.”

  “Quite a change for a young girl,” Harlan observed. “She’s at an age when leaving all her friends behind must seem like the end of the world. Hell, she’s at an age when everything seems like the end of the world. Besides that, it’s summertime. All the kids her age around here are caught up with their own vacation activities. Lots of `em have to work their family’s ranch. Must seem like she’ll never have a friend of her own again.”

  Janet didn’t like having a total stranger tell her something she should have figured out for herself. She’d been so anxious to get to Texas after the divorce, so determined to get on with her life and to get Jenny settled in a safer environment than the city streets of Manhattan that she hadn’t given much thought to how lonely the summer might be for her daughter. She’d been thinking of the move as an adventure and had assumed Jenny was doing the same.

  Now it appeared that the kind of energy that might have resulted in little more than mischief back in New York was taking a dangerous turn. She cringed as she pictured that truck slamming into a tree with her daughter behind the wheel. If her ex-husband heard about that, he’d wash his hands of Jenny once and for all. Barry Randall had little enough room in his life for his daughter now. If she became a liability to his image, he’d forget she existed.

  “I have an idea,” the man seated across from her said. “I don’t intend to press charges for this, but we don’t want her getting the idea that she can get away with stealing a car and taking it joyriding.”

  Janet was so worried by the prospects for Jenny getting herself into serious trouble before school started in the fall that she was willing to listen to anything, even if it was being offered by the exact kind of man she’d learned to distrust—a rich and powerful white man. A Texan, to boot. A sworn enemy of her ancestors.

  “What?” she asked warily.

  “I’ll give her a job out at White Pines. She can earn enough to pay off the cost of the truck’s repairs. That’ll keep her busy, teach her to take responsibility for her actions, and wear her out at the same time.”

  “I said I’d pay,” Janet reminded him.

  “It’s not the same. It was her mistake.”

  Just one of many lately, Janet thought with a sigh. Perhaps if Jenny hadn’t shoplifted a whole handful of cosmetics from the drugstore the week before, perhaps if she hadn’t upended a table in Rosa’s Café breaking every dish on it, Janet might have resisted a suggestion that would have kept her in contact with this man who made her pulse skip. The kindness in his voice, the humor in his eyes, were every bit as dangerous to her in her beleaguered state of mind as Jenny’s exploits were to her future. At the rate she’d been going since they got to Texas, she’d either end up in jail or dead.

  “Do I have any choice?” she asked, all but resigned to accepting the deal he was offering.

  He shrugged. “Not really. I could sue you, I suppose, but that gal of yours says you’re the best lawyer around. You might win, and then where would I be?”

  Janet laughed at the outrageous comment. A man who could keep his sense of humor in a circumstance like this was rare. She just might be forced to reevaluate Harlan Adams. And he might be just the kind of good influence her daughter needed. There was no question Jenny needed a stern hand and perhaps a stronger father figure than her own daddy had ever provided.

  “Are you really sure you want to deal with a rebellious teenage girl for the rest of the summer?” she asked, but there was no denying the hopeful note in her voice as she envisioned an improvement in Jenny’s reckless behavior.

  “I’ll take my chances,” he said solemnly, his gaze fixed on her.

  Janet trembled at the speculative gleam she saw in his eyes. She hadn’t had this kind of immediate, purely sexual reaction to a man in a very long time. She’d actually convinced herself she was capable of controlling such things. Now not only was Jenny out of control, it appeared her hormones were, as well. It was a dismaying turn of events.

  It also served as a warning that she’d better be on her guard around Harlan Adams. It wouldn’t do to spend much time around him with her defenses down. He was the kind of man who’d claim what he wanted, just as his ancestors had. Whether it was land or a woman probably wouldn’t matter much.

  She adopted her most businesslike demeanor, the one she reserved for clients and the courtroom. “What time do you want her at White Pines?” she inquired briskly, prepared to temporarily sacrifice her emotional peace of mind for her daughter’s sake.

  “Dawn will do,” he said as he rose and headed for the door.

  He must have heard her faint gasp of dismay because he turned back and winked. “I’ll have the coffee ready when you get there.”

  Janet sighed as he walked away. Dawn! If he expected her to be coherent at that hour, he’d better have gallons of it and it had best be strong and black.

  Chapter Two

  “I’ve taken on another hand for the summer,” Harlan mentioned to Cody when he stopped by just before dinner later that night.

  His son sat up a little straighter in the leather chair in which he’d sprawled out of habit as soon as he’d walked through the door. Instantly Harlan could see Cody’s jaw setting stubbornly as he prepared to argue against his father’s unilateral decision. Harlan decided he’d best cut him off at the pass.

  “Don’t go getting your drawers in a knot,” he advised him. “I’m not usurping your authority. This was just something that came up.”

  “Came up how?” Cody asked, suspicion written all over his face. “There’s no budget for another hand. You told me that yourself when we talked about it just last week.”

  “It came up right after my truck was stolen and smashed up,” Harlan explained. “Let’s just say that no money will be changing hands. The thief will be working off the repair bill.”

  Cody’s jaw dropped. “You hired the thief who stole your car? Haven’t you ever heard of jail time? If any of us had stolen a car and gone joyriding, you’d have helped the sheriff turn the lock on the cell.”

  “It didn’t seem like the thing to do with a thirteen-year-old girl,” Harlan said mildly. “Seemed to me this was a better way to teach her a lesson.”

  Cody fell silent, clearly chewing over the concept of a teenage girl as his newest
ranch hand. “What the hell am I supposed to have her doing?” he asked finally.

  “You’re not her boss,” Harlan said, amused by the relief that instantly spread across Cody’s face. “I am. I just wanted you to know she’d be around. Her name’s Jenny Runningbear.”

  “Runningbear? Is her mother…?”

  “The new lawyer in town,” Harlan supplied, watching as curiosity rose in Cody’s eyes.

  “Did you meet her?” Cody asked.

  “I did.” He decided then and there that he’d better be stingy with information about that meeting. His son had the look of a man about to make a romantic mountain out of a platonic molehill.

  “And?”

  “And, what?”

  “What did you think of her?”

  “She seemed nice,” Harlan offered blandly, even as he conjured up some fairly steamy images of the raven-haired beauty who’d struck him as a fascinating blend of strength and vulnerability. Nice was far too tame a description for that delicate, exotic face, those long, long legs, and eyes so dark a man could lose himself in them.

  “Really?” Cody said, skepticism written all over his face. “Nice?”

  Harlan didn’t like the way Cody was studying him. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he replied irritably.

  “Just seemed sort of namby-pamby to me,” Cody retorted. “I might have described her as hot. I believe Jordan said something similar after he spotted her.”

  Harlan bit back a sharp rebuke. His gaze narrowed. “Exactly how well do you and your brother know the woman?”

  “Not well enough to say more than hello when we pass on the street. Never even been introduced. Of course, if we both weren’t happily married, we’d probably be brawling over first dibs on meeting her.”

  “See that you remember that you are married,” he advised his son.

  “Interesting,” Cody observed, his eyes suddenly sparkling with pure mischief.

  “What’s interesting?”

  “The way you’re getting all protective about the mother of a teenage car thief. What time are they getting here in the morning?”

  “That’s nothing you need to concern yourself about.” He stood, glanced at his watch pointedly as he anticipated his housekeeper’s imminent announcement that dinner was on the table. “I’d invite you to dinner, but I told Maritza I’d be eating alone. It’s time you got home to your wife and those grandbabies of mine anyway.”

  Cody didn’t budge. “They’re eating in town with her folks tonight, so I’m all yours. I told Maritza I’d be staying. I thought maybe we could wrangle a little over buying that acreage out to the east, but I’d rather talk more about your impressions of Janet Runningbear.”

  “Forget it,” Harlan warned. “Besides, since when does my housekeeper take orders from you?”

  Cody grinned. “Ever since I was old enough to talk. I inherited your charm. It pays off in the most amazing ways. Maritza even fixed all my favorites. She said she’d missed me something fierce. I’m the one with the cast-iron stomach.”

  Harlan sighed as he thought of the hot peppers that comment implied. Between lunch at Rosa’s and that darned accident, his own stomach could have used a bowl of nice bland oatmeal. It appeared he was out of luck.

  “Well, come on, then. The sooner we eat, the sooner I can get you out of here and get some peace and quiet.”

  “You really interested in peace and quiet, Daddy? Or do you just want to make sure you get some beauty sleep before you see Janet Runningbear in the morning?” Cody taunted.

  “Don’t go getting too big for your britches, son,” Harlan warned. “You’re not so old that I can’t send you packing without your supper. Push me hard enough, I might just send you packing, period.”

  “But you won’t,” Cody retorted confidently.

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “Because so far only you and I know about this new fascination of yours. Send me home and I’ll have the whole, long evening to fill up. I might decide to use that time by calling Luke and Jordan. They like to be up-to-date on everything that goes on around White Pines. They’ll be flat-out delighted to discover that you’re no longer bored.”

  Harlan could just imagine the hornet’s nest that would stir up. He’d have all three sons hovering over him, making rude remarks, discussing his relationship with a woman he’d barely spent a half hour with up to now. They’d consider taunting him their duty, just as he’d considered it his to meddle in their lives.

  “That’s blackmail,” he accused.

  Cody’s grin was unrepentant. “Sure is. It’s going to make life around here downright interesting, isn’t it?”

  Harlan sighed. It was indeed.

  * * *

  “I don’t see why I have to work for him,” Jenny declared for the hundredth time since learning of the agreement her mother had made with Harlan Adams. “Aren’t there child labor laws or something?”

  “There are also laws against car theft,” Janet stated flatly. “You didn’t seem overly concerned about those.”

  A yawn took a little of the edge off of her words. No one in his right mind actually got up at daybreak. She was certain of it. Even though she’d forced herself to get to bed two hours earlier than usual the night before, she’d wanted to hurl the alarm clock out the window when it had gone off forty-five minutes ago.

  She’d dressed in a sleepy fog. With any luck, everything at least matched. As for her driving, she would probably be considered a menace if anyone checked on how many of her brain cells were actually functioning. The lure of a huge pot of caffeinated coffee was all that had gotten her out the door.

  At the moment she could cheerfully have murdered Jenny for getting them into this predicament. The very thought of doing this day after day all summer long had her gnashing her teeth. She was in no mood for any more of her daughter’s backtalk.

  “Why couldn’t you just pay him?” Jenny muttered. “There’s money in my account from Dad.”

  “It’s for college,” Janet reminded her. “Besides, I offered to pay Mr. Adams. He refused.”

  “Jeez, did he see you coming! I’m free labor, Mom. He’ll probably have me scrubbing down the barn floor or something. I’ll probably end up with arthritis from kneeling in all that cold, filthy water.”

  “Serves you right,” Janet said.

  At the lack of either sympathy or any hint of a reprieve, Jenny retreated into sullen silence. That gave Janet time to work on her own composure.

  To her astonishment, Harlan Adams had slipped into her dreams last night. She’d awakened feeling restless and edgy and unfulfilled in a way that didn’t bear too close a scrutiny. It was a state she figured she’d better get over before her arrival at White Pines. He had struck her as the kind of man who would seize on any hint of weakness and capitalize on it.

  The sun was just peeking over the horizon in a blaze of brilliant orange when she arrived at the gate to the ranch. She turned onto the property with something akin to awe spreading through her as she studied the raw beauty of the land around her. This was the land Lone Wolf had described, lush and barren in turns, stretched out as far as the eye could see, uninterrupted by the kind of development she’d come to take for granted in New York.

  “This is it?” Jenny asked, a heavy measure of disdain in her voice. “There’s nothing here.”

  Janet hid a smile. No Bloomingdale’s. No high rises. No restaurants or music stores. It was little wonder her daughter sounded so appalled.

  She, to the contrary, was filled at last with that incredible sense of coming home that she’d wanted so badly to feel when she’d moved to Los Piños. She considered for a moment whether Lone Wolf’s father might have hunted on this very land. It pleased her somehow to think that he might have.

  “That’s why they call it the wide open spaces,” she told her daughter. “Remember all the stories I told you about Lone Wolf?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t get it,” Jenny declared flatly. “Maybe I could just get
a job in the drugstore or something and pay Mr. Adams back that way.”

  “No,” Janet said softly, listening to the early morning sounds of birds singing, insects humming and somewhere in the distance a tractor rumbling. Did he grow his own grain? Or maybe have a nice vegetable garden? On some level, she thought she’d been waiting all her life for a moment just like this.

  “I think this will be perfect for you,” she added as hope flowered inside her for the first time in years.

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “If he makes me go near a horse or a cow, I’m out of here,” she warned.

  Janet grinned. “This is a cattle ranch. I think you can pretty much count on horses and cows.”

  “Mo-om!” she wailed. Her gaze narrowed. “I’ll run away. I’ll steal a car and drive all the way home to New York.”

  “And then what?” Janet inquired mildly. Jenny knew as well as she did that there was no room for her in her father’s life. Even though at the moment his selfishness suited her purposes, she hated Barry Randall for making his disinterest so abundantly clear to his daughter.

  Jenny turned a tearful gaze on her that almost broke Janet’s heart.

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” she asked.

  “Afraid not, love. Besides, I think you’ll enjoy this once you’ve gotten used to it. Think of all the stories you’ll have to write to your friends back in New York. How many of them have ever seen a genuine cowboy, much less worked on a ranch?”

  “How many of them even wanted to?” Jenny shot back.

  “You remember what I always told my clients when they landed in jail?” Janet asked.

  Jenny shot her a tolerant look and sighed heavily. “I remember. It’s up to me whether I make my time here hard or easy.”

  “Exactly.”

  A sudden gleam lit her eyes. “I suppose it’s also up to me whether it’s hard or easy for Mr. Adams, too, huh?”

  Janet didn’t much like the sound of that. “Jenny,” she warned. “If you don’t behave, you’ll be in debt to this man until you’re old enough for college.”

 

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