The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter

by Sherryl Woods

  “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.”

  “I can hardly wait to see how long that lasts,” Harlan commented.

  To her credit, she did exactly as she’d sworn she would. Unfortunately for him, she hadn’t mentioned a thing about any part of anatomy below her fingertips. Just as he was about to bet, he felt a knee nudge his…and stay there. The heat that rose through him this time could have roasted marshmallows. Turned them to ashes, in fact.

  He found that he enjoyed the sensation a little too much to tattle on her. He folded and left Jenny and Mule to battle for the pot. Mule took it with a full house to Jenny’s two pairs. To his everlasting regret, Janet’s knee retreated to a safe distance. It was by far the most intriguing poker game he’d ever played in. So far, it had cost him five bucks.

  He considered the money an investment in his future with Janet. He was learning more about her with every hand of cards they played. He doubted she knew how much she was revealing about herself. Maybe she was a risk-taker. Maybe she wasn’t. But she was definitely someone who liked to win.

  She was also protective as a mother bear with a cub, where Jenny was concerned. And she had an absolutely fascinating, wild flirtatious streak. Just wondering how far she’d take it made his pulse scramble in a way that was downright disconcerting.

  “I really think you ought to ante up,” he told her as Jenny shuffled the cards for the third hand. He glanced at her daughter. “Deal your mother in this round.”

  Janet’s expression turned faintly uneasy. “Really, I don’t think…”

  “Humor me,” he taunted. “I’ll spot you the fifty cents for the pot.” He tossed two quarters into the middle of the table.

  Jenny paused, waiting for her mother’s decision before dealing out the hand.

  “Okay,” Janet said eventually. “But I haven’t had as much practice as Jenny.”

  Jenny’s mouth gaped. “Mom!”

  “Quiet, dear. Deal the cards.”

  Harlan chuckled at the exchange. He had the distinct impression now that everything Jenny knew about poker, she had learned from her mother. It was just one more facet to Janet Runningbear to intrigue him. Apparently she was a bit of a gambler, after all.

  She scanned her cards with a practiced eye, tossed two back onto the table and waited for Jenny to replace them. Harlan drew three and wound up with two pairs, but most of his attention was on the woman seated next to him. Her face was an absolutely expressionless mask, a genuine poker face.

  Mule bet fifty cents. Harlan met his bet. He wouldn’t have dropped out of this hand if they’d been playing for a hundred times that amount.

  “That’s fifty cents to you, darlin’.”

  She nodded, not even glancing his way. “Your fifty and fifty more.”

  Jenny looked from her mother to Harlan and back again. “I’ll fold,” she said.

  “I’m out,” Mule concurred, tossing his cards onto the table in apparent disgust.

  Janet turned an expectant look on Harlan that had his breath catching in his throat.

  “Are you in?” she inquired in a lazy, seductive tone that had him conjuring up images that could have melted concrete.

  “You’d better believe it, darlin’. Your fifty and I’ll raise you a buck.”

  “My, my, you are confident,” she said, turning to wink at Jenny. “Shall I stay, do you think?”

  Jenny grinned. “You can’t quit now, Mom. He’ll think you’re chicken.”

  “True. We can’t have that, can we?” She reached over and plucked five dollars from Jenny’s pile of winnings. “I’ll repay you in a minute.”

  Harlan studied her expression before matching the bet. He couldn’t tell a thing about whether or not she was bluffing. He dropped his money on the table. “Call.”

  She placed her first card on the table, an ace of clubs. Her second card was a seven of clubs. Her third, a five of clubs. The fourth was a two of clubs. “Now what do you suppose I have here?” she inquired, lifting her gaze to clash with his.

  “Either another club or more audacity than anyone else in Texas,” Harlan quipped.

  She winked. “Want to go double or nothing on this last card?”

  “That ain’t the rules,” Mule complained.

  “Some rules are made to be broken,” Harlan said, his gaze never leaving Janet’s. “Not double or nothing. How about loser cooks dinner for the winner?”

  The flash of uncertainty in her eyes told him she’d just realized that she’d overplayed her hand. Still, she didn’t back down.

  “You sure that’s what you want? You could just quit now,” she said, clearly determined to brazen it out.

  “Not on your life. Get that card on the table.”

  She sighed, an expression of resignation on her face as she dropped an ace of hearts on top of the other cards.

  Harlan chuckled. “Darlin’, you would have made an outstanding stripper,” he teased. “You know a heck of a lot about drawing out the suspense.”

  “But you can beat a pair of aces, can’t you?”

  He showed her his two pairs, fours and eights. “Sure can. So, when’s dinner?” he inquired as he gathered up the pot.

  Jenny chuckled. “You still think you won, don’t you? Wait till you try Mom’s cooking!”

  “Jenny,” Janet protested. “How’s tomorrow? I’m sure I can grill a hamburger or something that will be edible.”

  “That’ll be a first,” her daughter retorted. She glanced at Harlan. “You might want to bring along a roll of antacids. Mom’s still trying to figure out how to cope with life without takeout.”

  “I’m sure anything your mother cooks will be just fine,” Harlan said staunchly. “I’ll be there about six.”

  Mule cackled. “Think I’ll let the rescue squad know to be standing by just in case.”

  They could all joke all they wanted, Harlan thought as he tilted his chair onto its back legs and studied the trio. Even if Janet’s food tasted like cinders, he had definitely come out of this a winner.

  Chapter Five

  The kitchen was in shambles. Janet stood amid the collection of messy bowls, streaks of chocolate cake batter and spatters
of frosting and despaired of ever getting a meal on the table by six o’clock.

  “Why did you let me do that?” she asked Jenny, who was standing in the doorway gloating. “Why on earth did you let me make a bet like that?”

  “You sounded like you were on a roll, Mom. How was I supposed to know you just had a piddly pair of aces?”

  “Because you know what a competitor I am. I always get caught up in the moment, start bluffing and get carried away. You were doubling your allowance playing poker with me when you were eight for that very reason.”

  “I know,” Jenny said, grinning. “If you’d gotten any more carried away yesterday, the man would be moving in with us.”

  “Hardly,” Janet denied.

  “Mom, it’s true. He leveled those baby blues of his on you and you perked up as if he’d showered you with diamonds.”

  Janet winced at the accuracy of the accusation. She had enjoyed the challenge and the blatant masculine approval she’d been able to stir with a little teasing. Harlan Adams was the kind of man who could make any woman lose sight of her independent streak.

  “All women are a little susceptible to flattery and the attention of an attractive man,” she said to defend herself. “It’s not something to be taken seriously.”

  “You’ve got my jailer coming to dinner in twenty minutes and you think that’s not serious,” Jenny retorted.

  “Would you stop calling him that?” she implored. “Mr. Adams did you a favor, young lady. And the truth is, you’re having fun at White Pines, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, sure, I just love spending my summer vacation breaking my back mucking out that stinky old barn.”

  “You should have thought of that before you stole his truck,” she admonished for what must have been the hundredth time.

  “How was I supposed to know that pickup belonged to a man who’d never heard of child labor laws? You probably ought to investigate him or something. He probably has little kids all over that ranch of his, working their butts off.” She shot a sly look at Janet. “Little Native American kids, Mom.”