The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter

by Sherryl Woods

  Laughing, Harlan didn’t even try to keep up. He was enjoying the view from behind too much. She was leaning low over the horse’s back. Her long black hair was caught up in a single, severe braid, but tendrils had escaped to curl defiantly along the back of her elegant, exposed neck. A longing to press a hot, lingering kiss to that bare skin washed through him with the ferocity of a summer storm, stunning him with its intensity.

  She slowed after a bit, letting him and Jenny catch up.

  “Where’d you learn to ride like that?” he asked. “Not in Central Park, I’ll bet.”

  “Jeez, Mom, you never said you’d been on a horse before,” Jenny said, looking a little awestruck.

  “I learned in Oklahoma that summer. It all came back to me. I remembered how it felt to have the wind in my face. It’s exhilarating.”

  “It shows,” Harlan said quietly, his gaze locked with hers. “You’ve got some color in your cheeks for a change and your eyes are sparkling.”

  Jenny shot him a suspicious frown, as if not quite certain whether he was making another pass at her mother right under her eyes.

  “It’s the God’s truth,” Harlan insisted with a touch of defiance. “Jenny, take a good look at your mom. Have you ever seen her look so happy?”

  Apparently by drawing Jenny into the appraisal of Janet’s appearance, he managed to allay her fears. She studied her mother, then nodded. “You do look spectacular, Mom. You should do this more.”

  “Anytime,” Harlan said quickly, capitalizing on the small, inadvertent opening. “No need even to call first. If I’m not around, just leave me a note in the barn or let Maritza know you’re taking one of the horses out.”

  “Thank you,” she said, rubbing the mare’s neck. “I may take you up on the offer. This has been incredible.”

  Harlan locked gazes with her once more, refusing to break eye contact as he said, “And it’s just the beginning.”

  Janet swallowed hard under his intense scrutiny. He enjoyed the knowledge that she was responding to him despite whatever reservations she might have. He was finally reassured that this attraction he’d been feeling from the beginning was returned, albeit with great reluctance.

  “Come on, you two. I know the perfect spot for our picnic. It’s about a mile ahead.”

  They ambled along at a comfortable pace for the next few minutes, picking their way through a denser stand of trees until they emerged on the shaded bank of a creek. It was too late in the season for the bluebonnets that usually dotted the area, but it was a tranquil, lovely setting just the same. Harlan had always enjoyed coming here when he needed to ponder some puzzle in his life. The serenity seemed to clear his head.

  It was also a romantic spot for a picnic. He and Mary had stolen away here a time or two before she’d decided picnics were for youngsters and they needed more sedate and elegant entertainment. He’d always regretted that they no longer shared this spot and the simplicity of the hours they had once spent here.

  He kept a close eye on Janet to gauge her reaction. A soft smile lit her face as she took in her surroundings. She sighed then with what looked to be sheer pleasure.

  “Lone Wolf used to tell me about incredibly beautiful places just like this,” she murmured, lifting her eyes to meet his again. “I dreamed of finding one. Thank you for bringing us here.”

  As if she sensed that the undercurrents between her mother and Harlan were getting too provocative and too intense, Jenny cut in. “I don’t see what’s so special. It’s just a dumb old creek. I saw the Atlantic Ocean a couple of times when Mom and Dad actually stopped working long enough to take me. Now that’s impressive,” she said, shooting a defiant look in his direction.

  He grinned at her, refusing to take offense. “It is something, isn’t it? But appreciating the magnificence of one doesn’t mean you can’t recognize the beauty of the other. That would be like saying if you like Monet, you can’t like Grandma Moses. Or if you enjoy Bach, it’s not possible to appreciate the Beatles.”

  He pointedly fixed his gaze on Janet when he added, “Seems to me the more experiences you open your heart to, the richer your life will be.”

  Color rose in her cheeks as his implication sank in. Satisfied that she’d gotten his message, he nodded and busied himself with taking the picnic from the packs Maritza had prepared. He handed Janet a red-checked tablecloth.

  “You pick the spot for that,” he suggested, then watched as she headed unerringly for his favorite place beneath an old cottonwood. It was the exact spot where he often sat, his back braced against the trunk of the tree as he waited for the sun to set and his tangled thoughts to unravel. He’d come a lot after Mary’s death, hoping for understanding and acceptance of the tragedy that had taken her.

  Today, for the first time, with Janet and Jenny by his side, he thought maybe he’d found the reason for God’s choice. One door in his life had closed and another had opened. He couldn’t help wondering with a sense of tremendous anticipation what awaited him on this new adventure.

  “You suddenly seem very far away,” Janet said quietly as she came to stand beside him.

  Harlan noticed that Jenny had already stripped off her shoes and socks and was wading in the creek. For the moment he and Janet had a bit of privacy. He lifted his hand to her cheek in a light caress.

  “No more,” he murmured. “Now I’m right here, with you.”

  Worry darkened her eyes at once. “Harlan—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Shh. For once, don’t argue. Let’s just see where this takes us. No promises. No commitments. No guarantees. Just be open to the possibilities. Can you do that?”

  He felt her tremble beneath his touch, felt her skin heat and saw the glitter of excitement in her eyes. A sigh hovered on her lips before she finally nodded.

  “I can try,” she agreed, looking anything but certain even as she spoke.

  “That’s all anyone can ask.” He glanced toward the bank of the creek and saw that Jenny was still in view, even though she had her back to them for the moment.

  He dropped his voice even lower. “I want very much to kiss you.” He allowed the thought to linger between them, allowed the color to climb in her cheeks and the anticipation to shine in her eyes before adding, “But I won’t. Not with Jenny so close by again.”

  It might have been his imagination or wishful thinking, but he thought he detected disappointment shadowing the depths of her eyes even as she murmured her thanks.

  He grinned. “That doesn’t mean I can’t tell you what I think kissing you would be like. Your mouth is soft as a rose petal, Janet Runningbear, and your breath is just as sweet. I love the way your eyes darken when my mouth is this close to yours,” he said, leaning down to within a hairbreadth of her lips, then retreating almost at once. This time he heard the shock of her indrawn breath and knew, absolutely knew, that what he saw in her eyes was disappointment.

  He ran his thumb along her lower lip. “There will be other times,” he assured her. “Private times.”

  He released her then, amused that she stood as if his hands were still on her, quiet and shaken. He hoped his own emotions weren’t half so apparent. One thing for sure, he wasn’t half as frightened of what the future might hold as she appeared to be. For the first time since they’d met, she seemed truly vulnerable.

  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.

  Chapter Eight

  No 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 Harla
n 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.