The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter. Sherryl Woods

tried to send out. She’d ended up married to Barry Randall because he’d been persistent and attentive…until the challenge wore off.

      With that lesson behind her, she should be shooting down a man like Harlan Adams with both barrels. Suggesting he might be getting the wrong idea hardly constituted a whimper of protest.

      He reached over and patted her hand consolingly, then winked. “Darlin’, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the ideas I have. You’ll have to trust me on that.”

      That, of course, was the problem. She didn’t trust him or, for that matter, herself. She had a feeling a man with Harlan’s confidence and determination could derail her plans for her life in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t allow that to happen for a second time.

      “You running scared?” he inquired, his lips twitching with amusement.

      “Scared? Not me.”

      His grin broadened. “You sound like Jenny now. I didn’t much believe her, either.”

      “Harlan—”

      “Maybe we’d better get this conversation back on safer ground for the moment,” he suggested. “Wouldn’t want you getting too jittery to drive home tonight. Now, tell me about your day. You never said how business was.”

      Janet’s head was reeling from the quick change of topic and the innuendos Harlan tossed around like confetti. With some effort, she forced her mind off of his provocative teasing and onto that safer ground he’d offered.

      “I had a call from somebody interested in having me draw up a will,” she told him. “They decided I was too expensive.”

      “Are you?”

      “If I lowered my rates much more, I’d be doing the work for free, which is apparently what they hoped for. The man seemed to assume that since I’m Native American, I handle pro bono work only and he might as well get in on the ‘gravy train,’ as he put it.”

      Harlan’s gaze sharpened. “You get much of that?” he asked.

      He said it with a fierce undertone that suggested he didn’t much like what he was hearing. Janet shivered at the thought of what Harlan Adams might do to protect and defend those he cared about.

      “Some,” she admitted. “I haven’t been around long enough to get much.”

      “Maybe it’s time I steered a little business your way.”

      She suspected that was an understated way of saying he’d butt a few heads together if he had to. She understood enough about small towns to know that a sign of approval from a man like Harlan would guarantee more clients coming her way. As much as the idea appealed to her, she felt she had to turn it down. Barry had always held it over her head that her career had taken off in New York because of his contacts, not the reputation she had struggled to build all on her own.

      “No,” she insisted with what she considered to be sufficient force to make her point even to a man as stubborn as Harlan appeared to be. “I need to make it on my own. That’s the only way people will have any respect for me. It’s the only way I’ll have any respect for myself.”

      “Noble sentiments, but it won’t put food on the table.”

      “Jenny and I won’t starve. I did quite well in New York. My savings will carry us for a long time.”

      “If your practice was thriving there, why’d you come here?” Harlan asked.

      “Good question,” Jenny chimed in in a sleepy, disgruntled tone.

      “You know the answer to that,” she told her daughter quietly.

      “But I don’t,” Harlan said. “If it’s none of my business, just tell me so.”

      “Would that stop you from poking and prodding until you get an answer?”

      “Probably not,” he conceded. “But I can be a patient man, when I have to be.”

      Janet doubted that. It was easier just to come clean with the truth, or part of it at least. “My divorce wasn’t pleasant. New York’s getting more and more difficult to live in every day. I wanted a simpler way of life.”

      She shot a look at Jenny, daring her to contradict the reply she’d given. Her daughter just rolled her eyes. Harlan appeared willing to accept the response at face value.

      “Makes sense,” he said, studying her with that penetrating look that made it appear he could see straight through her. “As far as it goes.” He grinned. “But, like I said, I can wait for the rest.”

      Before she could think of a thing to say to that, a tall, lanky cowboy strolled up. He looked exactly like Harlan must have twenty or so years before, including that flash of humor that sparkled in his eyes as he surveyed the gathering on the porch.

      “Looks right cozy,” he commented, his amused gaze fixed on his father. “Anything going on here I should know about?”

      “Watch your mouth,” Harlan ordered. “Janet and Jenny, this tactless scoundrel is my youngest, Cody. Son, this is Janet Runningbear and her daughter Jenny.”

      Cody winked at Jenny, who was regarding him with blatant fascination. “Don’t tell Daddy, but just so you know, I’m the brains behind White Pines.”

      “If that were true, you’d have better control over your manners,” Harlan retorted.

      Janet chuckled listening to the two of them. Talk about a chip off the old block. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that any trait Cody possessed, he had learned it at his father’s knee. That included everything from charm to arrogance. Still, she couldn’t help responding to that infectious grin and the teasing glint in his eyes as he squared off against Harlan. The squabbles around here must have been doozies.

      “Why don’t you make yourself useful?” Harlan suggested. “Janet says the air conditioner in her car has gone on the blink. Do you have time to take a look at it?”

      “Sure thing,” Cody said readily. “Let me get a beer and I’ll get right on it.”

      “I could get the beer,” Jenny piped up eagerly.

      Cody tipped his hat. “Thanks.”

      Janet speared her daughter with a warning look, then said to Cody, “If one single ounce of that beer is missing when it gets to you, I’d like to know about it.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Cody said, winking at Jenny, who blushed furiously.

      When they were gone, Janet turned to Harlan. “If he were giving the orders, I suspect Jenny would be docile as a lamb the rest of the summer.”

      “But he’s not,” Harlan said tersely. “I am.”

      “Jealous of the impact your son has on the Runningbear women?” she inquired lightly, just to see if the remark would inspire the kind of reaction she suspected it would.

      Harlan’s expression did, indeed, turn very grim. “He’s married.”

      She grinned. “I know. Heck, everyone in town heard about his courting of Melissa Horton. It was still fresh on their minds when I moved here. But last I heard, looking’s never been against the law. I ought to know. I read those big, thick volumes of statutes cover-to-cover in school.”

      He scowled. “You deliberately trying to rile me?”

      “I didn’t know I could,” she declared innocently.

      “Well, now you know,” he asserted.

      Janet couldn’t help feeling a certain sense of feminine satisfaction over the revelation. But hard on the heels of that reaction came the alarm bells. It was entirely possibly that she was enjoying taunting Harlan Adams just a little too much. She had a hunch it was a very dangerous game to play. He struck her as the kind of man who played his games for keeps.