The Texan's Secret

“I’m at the front door.”

“What are you…” Shay’s voice trailed away when she saw Chance, and her eyes were huge. Evidently she’d thought he wouldn’t follow her.

“This man wanted to see you and I wouldn’t let him in.”

“You’re not supposed to open the door to strangers. Period.”

“I’m eight years old. I’m not a baby.”

“Darcy, don’t talk back to me.”

Shay was still reeling from the shock of seeing Chance Hardin, and now she was arguing with her adopted daughter in front of him. What did he want? Well, that was a no-brainer; after the way she’d left Southern Cross.

She’d trembled all the way home, listening for the sound of a siren. She’d thought she was home free, but he’d followed her. Damn. What should she do now?

“Shay, where in the hell are you?”

Darcy frowned. “The witch’s been calling for you.”

“Do not call Blanche a witch.” Shay’s nerves were about to snap. She couldn’t deal with Chance, her mother and Darcy all at the same time. At the moment he was the most pressing problem. Chance was glaring at her with those beautiful dark eyes, and she almost forgot she had to get rid of him.

“Mother, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You finally dragged your ass home. That kid is making too much noise.”

Shay cringed that Chance was listening to this.

“I was at the shop,” she called back. “Just give me a few minutes, please.”

“I want a glass of iced tea.”

“Fine. I’ll fix it.”

Shay turned to her daughter. “Go outside and play with Petey, and we’ll talk later.”

Darcy jerked her thumb toward Chance. “He has Tiny.”

Shay wondered about that. What was he doing with Darcy’s dog? And how could she get Tiny back without causing a scene? Before she could form a plan, Chance placed Tiny on the concrete and he trotted to Darcy. She lifted the dog in her arms, hugging him as he whimpered, and then she and Petey ran outside.

Now Shay had to talk to Chance. She felt like running outside, too. But she steeled herself and faced him. This is what you get, she thought, when you try to rob houses—a harsh dose of reality.

“You left in rather a hurry, didn’t you?” One eyebrow lifted beneath his Stetson. She ignored the hammering of her pulse.

“How did you get my address?”

“The constable looked up your license plate. High Cotton might be a small town, but we’re not idiots.”

She bit her lip. “What do you want?”

His eyes met hers in a direct, no-nonsense stare. “The truth, Shay Dumont. The honest-to-God truth.” He dragged out her name as if to remind her of her lie.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Okay, I lied. My real name is Shay Dumont.”

“Why?” His voice was as cool as ice water, and she trembled. But it didn’t keep her from noticing how good-looking he was. Tall and lean, with everything a girl could want in between. How she wished they had met before she’d pulled such a stupid stunt.

She swallowed and wasn’t sure what to say to him. The truth would hurt too many people. “Listen. I didn’t take anything from Southern Cross, so can we please let this drop?”

“No.”

She should have known that he didn’t plan to be lenient. He’d come for the truth and he wasn’t leaving without it. The truth. It was a can of worms that had been festering for over twenty years, and once opened, it would stink from Houston to High Cotton. How could she open that can? She had to stall, or maybe entice the handsome cowboy. She stopped herself from laughing out loud at the ridiculous thought. What did she know about enticing?

Chance shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Let me make this easy for you.” He could see she was thinking of dancing around the truth. He had to apply pressure. “If you don’t tell me why you were trying to rob the Calhouns, I’ll call the constable of High Cotton. He’ll notify the police here and they’ll arrest you for attempted robbery and take you back to High Cotton to face the charges.” He gave her a second to digest that. “Do you want to put Darcy through that?”

Shay paled. “You wouldn’t.”

“You know I would. I wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”

She winced. “I thought you were nice, but you’re not.”

“I’m the foreman of Southern Cross and responsible for everything that happens while the Calhouns are away.”

“I didn’t take anything, okay?” Her voice grew angry.

“I don’t know that for sure. When I came in, you had the safe open and were rummaging through it. What were you after? And how did you get the combination?”

Her head jerked up. “You saw me leave, and could see that I didn’t take anything. How many times do I have to say that?”

“But you were after something. I just interrupted you.”

Shay gazed down at her sneakers and remained silent.

The shattered look on her face twisted his stomach and prompted him to add, “Shay, I mean you no harm, but I have to know why you tried to rob Southern Cross—a house in a small out-of-the-way town.”

She still remained silent.

“If you’re innocent, I’ll forget the whole thing.”

Her hands curled into fists. “But I’m not innocent.” The words came out low, but he heard them.

He felt a blow to his chest. For the first time he realized he wanted her to be innocent, or to have a very good explanation. In a short amount of time she’d awakened his heart. He’d thought it had stopped working long ago, but one look into her green eyes had started him thinking of happy endings and the fairy tales his mother used to read to him.

Shay looked him in the eye. “If I tell you the truth, will you promise I won’t be arrested? I can’t leave Darcy. I’m all she has.” She sighed heavily. “And, yes, I should have thought of her before….”

“Why didn’t you?” When he saw the kid, he’d wondered why she’d take such a risk. There had to be a reason. “Where is the child’s father?”

“Darcy is my adopted daughter. Her parents are dead.” Shay heaved another sigh. “I did a very stupid thing because—”

“Shay!” a woman’s voice shouted, through a fit of coughing.