Linda Warren - The Texan's Secret

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 his emotions in check.

She glanced around the kitchen. “I’d like to thank whoever lives in this big house.”

And the doubts doubled. She wanted information.

“Renee’s son and his family live here.”

“I’d like to thank them.”

The tension tripled. “There’s no need.”

She was about to persist when his phone buzzed. He reached for it in his pocket and saw the caller ID. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this.”

“I’ll just…go up and thank Renee.” Shay picked up her cup.

“Walker, the constable, is coming by to talk to you this morning,” Chance called as she left.

“Okay.”

He clicked on his phone. “What is it, Monty?” Monty was one of the cowboys on the ranch.

“Where are you? You didn’t sleep in the bunkhouse last night.”

“Did the boys fix the fence at Crooked Creek?” Chance countered with a question of his own.

“Yep. All done.”

“Get them to check all the fences to make sure no limbs fell on them in the rainstorm.”

“Will do. Where are you? Are you still dealing with that wreck?”

“Yeah,” he said, and clicked off before Monty could get in another question.

Chance hurried for the stairs to get dressed. On the third step he stopped. Was he seeing things? Was there a light coming from Judd’s study?

He eased down the stairs and went to check, thinking it might be the early morning sun reflecting off the big front windows. He walked into the hall. The doors to Judd’s study were closed and there was definitely a faint light coming from within—a light that hadn’t been there earlier. Was Renee up and looking for something? But the study was Judd’s private sanctum and it wasn’t like his mother to be up this early.

Slowly, Chance opened one of the French doors, and received the shock of his life. Shay had Judd’s safe open and was rummaging through it. What the hell?

She closed the safe and turned the knob. Then she saw him. In the light of the lamp on the desk he could see the blood drain from her face.

Chance glanced from her to the safe and then back to her startled eyes. “What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing.” She edged around the desk.

“You had the safe open. What were you looking for?”

“Nothing.” She moved farther away and held out her hands, palms up. “I didn’t take anything.”

“Come on. Who are you? What are you doing here and how did you know the combination to the safe?”

Before he guessed her intentions, she darted past him, ran through the foyer and slammed the front door in his face. He immediately ran after her, only to see her jump into the rental and tear out the driveway.

Since he didn’t have his boots on and his truck was at the bunkhouse, Chance didn’t even try to follow. It was too late; she was already long gone.

He cursed himself while dressing. Walker had her address, and Chance was going to track down Shay Dumont if it was the last thing he did.