The Texan's Secret. Linda Warren
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had to deal with that.”
Everyone knew of his parents’ deaths. It had happened on the same county road, closer to Giddings. Though only twelve, Chance had worked valiantly to get his parents out—but they were already dead.
“I’ve developed Teflon feelings,” he joked.
“Yeah, right.” Clearly, Walker didn’t believe him for a minute. “You get any information from her?”
“She said her name is Shay Stevens.”
Walker frowned. “That’s strange. The license plate must not have been secured properly, because I found it in the grass. I ran a check with the Department of Public Safety just in case she was still unconscious, and it’s registered to Shay Dumont from Houston.”
“Hmm.” Chance rubbed his jaw in thought. That name ran a bell, but he couldn’t place it. That niggling feeling returned. The lady wasn’t who she said she was. He felt a moment of regret. He was beginning to like her. Now he had some questions was determined to get answers—one way or another.
Who was she?
And what did she want in High Cotton, Texas?
CHAPTER TWO
CHANCE WENT UPSTAIRS to talk to Shay, but Renee was hovering around and he didn’t get an opportunity. He didn’t want Renee to think something was wrong, so he headed out the door for dry clothes and boots.
“Thank you for pulling me out of the car,” Shay said in a rush before he left. “Your cell is downstairs.”
“Thanks.” He turned to look at her. She sat on the side of the bed in a white fluffy robe of Renee’s. Nervousness, shock and fear flitted across her pretty face. What was causing her such anguish? He didn’t have time to figure it out. He had to get into dry clothes and check on the cowboys. Work awaited him and he had to go. Who are you? He planned to find out later when Renee wasn’t around.
Renee followed him to the kitchen. “I think I’ll fix her a bite to eat.”
“Missing the kids, huh?”
“You bet. I can’t wait for the twins to come home.”
Chance thought for a moment and asked, “Do you mind if I spend the night in the house? I’m a little leery of you being alone with a stranger.” He had a room at the bunkhouse, but that niggling feeling wouldn’t go away. He had brought the woman here and he had to make sure Renee was safe.
“What do you think?” Renee whispered. “That she’s going to murder me in my bed?”
He shrugged. “I just have a strange feeling. That’s all.”
“Then by all means, sleep in the house.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back later.”
When he returned the woman was asleep in a guest room. Should she be sleeping? It had been almost two hours since the medics left, so he supposed it was okay. The light was on and she was curled up in bed with a wistful expression on her face, blonde hair all around her. She was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Why did they have to meet under these circumstances? This stranger was hiding something and he had to be on guard.
Walker dropped by later to talk to Shay about the accident. Chance told him she was asleep, and the constable said he’d come back in the morning. The car had been towed into Giddings, he reported, and he’d brought the sodden remains of Shay’s purse. Since it had been filled with muddy water, Walker had done his best to dry it out, but everything was ruined. The only thing legible on her diver’s license was her name— Shay Dumont.
Where had he heard that name before? Chance went to bed with it rattling around in his head, and again he vowed to get answers.
At six he woke up, slipped into his jeans and a T-shirt and headed downstairs to make coffee. Since the Calhouns were gone, the housekeeper was on vacation, too. His plan was to carry a cup to the woman and talk.
As he finished making the coffee, the phone rang. He grabbed the wall phone before it woke up everyone. Renee was not an early riser.
“You ordered a rental?”
“Yes.”
“I have to deliver it early because I’m the only one working the lot today.”
“Okay. What time?”
“I’m here now.”
“Oh. I’ll be right out.” Chance marched to the door and opened it. A middle-aged man stood there with a clipboard, which he held out to Chance, who scribbled his name. “This was fast,” he commented.
“Ms. Dumont’s insurance agent called late yesterday. He’d gotten photos from the wrecker service via the internet and it was a done deal. The car will be scrapped.” The man handed over a receipt and the keys. About that time an older truck with loud exhaust pipes pulled in.
“That’s my son. Gotta go.”
“Thanks,” Chance called to the man’s retreating back.
He hurried into the kitchen for coffee. Placing the keys and receipt on the granite kitchen island, he poured a cup. After taking a sip he decided he’d better put on his boots and shirt before talking to the woman.
Swinging around, he came to a halt. Shay was standing in the doorway, fully dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday, the bandage still on her forehead. Her long hair glistened in the kitchen light.
He swallowed. “How are you?” he managed to ask her.
“Fine.” She held out her arms. “Renee washed and dried my clothes. Wasn’t that nice?”
“Renee’s a nice lady.”
Shay didn’t respond to that. Instead she waved a hand toward the coffeepot. “May I have some?”
“Sure.” Her sudden appearance had made him forget his manners. He poured a cup and handed it to her. In the process he noticed that her fingernails were bitten down to the quick. Obviously she was a very nervous person.
She took a tentative sip. “Do you live here?”
She was fishing for information, and Chance was willing to give her only so much. But it was hard to stick to that resolve with her green eyes so inviting.
“No. My gig’s at the bunkhouse, but I stayed in the house last night to make sure…you were okay.”
“That’s so sweet.” She touched his bare arm and tiny sizzles of pleasure radiated through him. “Oh.” She spotted the keys and receipt on the island. “They brought my rental?”
“Yes. It’s outside.”
“That was quick.” Setting her cup down, she slipped the keys into the front pocket of her jeans, folded the receipt and stuffed it into her back pocket.
He watched her every movement and thought how graceful and beautiful she was. The knit top outlined her breasts and the tight jeans emphasized her slim curves. He cleared his throat. “Walker, the constable, brought your purse and phone from your car.” He pointed. “They’re in that plastic bag on the floor.”
“Oh.” She knelt and examined the contents. “Good grief, everything’s covered in mud.”
“I’m afraid it’s pretty much ruined.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, removing her driver’s license, a credit card and some cash. She stuffed them into her other pocket and stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Do you mind throwing the rest away?”
“No problem.”
Silence followed as they faced each other. Chance could feel the tension building in the room. He had to admit he was attracted to her, and he wished he’d dressed before coming down. The situation was a little too intimate. But the doubts kept