The Texan's Secret (8 page)

Darcy walked in, dropped her backpack on the floor and sat in one of the dryer chairs with a pout on her face. The bruise on her lip had healed nicely.

“No hug?” Shay asked.

Darcy crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t feel like hugging.”

Shay knelt in front of her. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Petey can’t come to our house anymore,” she muttered, trying very hard not to cry.

“Why not?”

“His mom says we spend too much time together and—and…” she slapped away a tear “…I get him into trouble all the time.”

Shay saw red. How dare that woman hurt her child
like this! She gathered Darcy into her arms, rubbing her back as Darcy sobbed against her shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Mommy will take care of it.”

Nettie put Mrs. Kellis under the dryer and looked down at Shay and Darcy sitting on the floor. “What’s this I hear about Sally Henson?”

“She won’t let Petey play with me anymore,” Darcy cried.

Nettie placed her hands on her hips, her bracelets jangling. “Well, that’s just mean. I think I’ll turn her into a toad.”

Darcy jumped up, all excited, her tears forgotten. “Can you, Nettie? Can you?”

Shay pushed herself to her feet. “No, she can’t.”

“You never know.” Nettie winked.

Shay glared at the older woman. “Let’s go home, sweetie, before I have to give Nettie a lecture.”

“But it would be so cool, Mom,” Darcy exclaimed, picking up her backpack.

Shay gathered her mail and then opened the door. Darcy ran toward their house, while Shay paused and looked back at Nettie. “If you really can, I’d appreciate it.” She heard Nettie’s laughter all the way home.

She got Darcy started on her homework and then checked on her mom. Blanche was sitting up in bed, watching TV.

“It’s about time you came home,” she shrieked through a round of coughs. “I want a cold glass of water with ice. Maybe you can get that right.”

Another chipper day,
Shay thought, and backed out. She walked across the hall to her room and closed the
door. Pulling out her cell phone, she called Petey’s mother.

“I knew you’d call,” Sally said.

“When you hurt my kid, you better believe I’m calling.”

“Before you get all angry—”

“I’m already angry.”

There was a pause, and then Sally said, “I heard about the incident with the boys next door. I won’t have my kid being beat up because of Darcy’s smart mouth.”

Shay took a long breath to keep her anger in check. “Fine. If that’s the way you feel, I suppose I can’t change your mind. Just remember all the times I kept Petey and never charged you a dime. About six months ago you were in love with what’s his name and I kept Petey day and night. Darcy and Petey play well together. It’s when other kids tease them that bad things happen. I thought you were a friend, but I guess you’re not.” She clicked off before Sally could say another word.

Staring down at her phone, she drew another long breath. She was lousy at being a mother. Feeling her way was the best she could do.

“Shay,” her mother screeched.

She jumped up and went to get the water.

After dinner, she let Darcy watch TV for a while. She seemed fine, but Shay knew she was going to miss Petey. At least she’d see him in school and on the bus.

Pouring a glass of tea, she noticed the mail on the
counter. She picked it up and sat at the table to go through it.

She’d forgotten about the certified letter and ripped it open. It was just a single page. She glossed over the first part and glanced to the bottom—the result.
The probability that the alleged parent, Jack Calhoun, is biologically related to the woman, Shay Dumont, is 0%.

She was
not
Jack Calhoun’s daughter.

C
HANCE HAD HAD A LONG DAY
and was ready to get out of his work boots, take a shower and prop up his feet for a while. As he walked down the hall to the apartment, his cell buzzed. After looking at the caller ID, he clicked on.

“Hey, Judd, how’s everything at the ranch?”

“Fine. I’m still looking for a foreman, though.”

“You’re not calling to…”

“To ask you to come back?” Judd finished. “Hell, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thanks,” Chance replied, feeling a moment of relief. He wouldn’t want to let his friend down, and would have been torn if he’d asked.

“I thought I’d let you know I got the DNA results.”

“And?”

A long pause ensued. “She’s not Jack’s biological daughter.”

Chance stopped dead. “Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. Shay was so sure—sure enough to try to steal those rings.”

“We had a deal and I’m sticking to my word. I won’t press charges.”

“She’ll appreciate that.”

“Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“The boys just waddled in. Eli, put that down. Cait, the boys are in my study.”

Chance smiled. Sometimes Judd slipped into his father’s way of thinking—that a woman’s job was to take care of the kids and the house. Cait had a way of setting him straight and it didn’t take her long.

“So?” Chance heard her shout. “I’m in the kitchen. Now we know where everyone is.”

“She can be a smart-ass sometimes,” Judd said to Chance. “I better go or they’ll destroy my study. I need to buy a book on discipline. Justin, no…”

Chance laughed as he clicked off, and it felt good. For so many years laughing was hard for him. Now he was free from a secret that he shouldn’t have kept at all. But the past was the past and he was now living in the present.

Unlocking the apartment, he went inside and headed to the bedroom. He took off his boots and saw Shay’s green eyes. How was she taking the news? he wondered. She was positive about Jack’s paternity, so it had to have hit her hard. He wanted to see if she was okay, but how could he? Shay was not a part of his life. She’d made that very clear.

He tore off his shirt on the way to the shower. He hardly knew the woman and yet he couldn’t get her out of his mind. After he showered, he realized he was hungry. A steak sounded good so he drove to the Texas Roadhouse.

As he ate he looked around and saw that mostly
couples occupied the tables and booths, clinking glasses, laughing and talking. A boisterous family sat in a corner. He was one of the few customers dining alone.

A man his age shouldn’t be alone. There was always the receptionist, he thought, as he paid the check. Chance smiled as he went out the door. He would never be that desperate.

On his way back to Shilah Oil, it occurred to him that he was headed in the wrong direction. He was going north—to Shay. Damn truck had a mind of its own.

He parked in her driveway as dusk prepared to usher in the night. The neighborhood was quiet except for some loud music he could hear coming from down the street. He removed his hat and placed it on the passenger seat. After waiting a moment, he strolled to the front door and knocked.

Darcy opened it with the safety chain attached, reminding him of the first time he had come here. Tiny squeezed through the opened crack and sniffed at his boots.

“Is your mother home?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“May I speak to her?”

“Depends,” the girl answered.

“On what?”

“If I can sit in your truck.”

He thrust a thumb over his shoulder. “That piece of junk?”

“Yeah,” she replied without blinking.

“Hmm.” Chance appeared to think about it. “Okay. We have a deal.”

She quickly undid the chain and darted down the walk.

“Wait a minute,” he called.

She stopped and looked at him. Her glasses were crooked. Did she ever keep those things straight?

“Don’t sit on my Stetson and don’t let that dog sit on it, either.”

She frowned. “What’s a Stetson?”

“My hat.”

“Oh, okay.” She ran to the truck and yanked on the door.

“And you can’t stay out here long. It’s getting dark.”

Chance shook his head as he entered the house. Everything was quiet. The TV was on and Darcy’s books were scattered in front of it. Where was Shay? He knew where the kitchen was so he went in that direction. Shay sat at the kitchen table, staring at a piece of paper.

“Shay.”

She swung around and for a brief moment her eyes lit up when she saw him. The light was quickly replaced with a glare. “How did you get in here?” She was angry. That was very clear. He could tell by her heated words and stiff body.

“Darcy let me in.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s sitting in my truck. That’s the deal we made so she’d let me in.”

“You tricked her?” Shay’s voice was hot enough to scorch his skin.

“No.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I think she tricked me.”

Shay gave him another red-hot glare. “I’ll get her.” She got up and tried to pass him. He stepped in front of her. She moved right and he stepped in front of her again.

Clenching her hands into fists, she said in a controlled voice, “Get out of my way.”

“Not until you calm down.”

“I’m calm,” she told him, and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Yeah, right.” He touched the vein at her temple and she pulled away. “That vein is about to explode.” He looked into her bright green eyes. “Why are you so angry? And don’t say you’re not.”

She clamped her lips together and wouldn’t say another word.

“You said the Calhouns meant nothing to you and you wanted nothing to do with them. So why has the truth made you so angry?”

“I’ve been lied to for so many years. I’m not the person I thought I was. I don’t know who I am anymore.” A tear slipped from her eye and his gut tightened. He hated to see her in so much pain.

He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and pushed her back into a chair. Pulling another chair forward, he sat facing her, their knees almost touching. “You’re the same person I hoisted out of that creek. You’re a beautiful, loving, compassionate woman who
thinks of others instead of herself. You’re Darcy’s mother. Blanche’s daughter. Everything is the same.”

“No, it isn’t. Everything’s changed.”

“Not everything.”

Shay frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He linked his hands with hers and she didn’t jerk away. “Every time you look at me with those green eyes all I want to do is kiss you.”

She blinked. “You’re…you’re changing the subject.”

He ran his thumb over her palm. “But you’re calmer.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “You tricked me.”

“Whatever works.” He released her hand and pulled the paper from the lab forward. “Talk to your mother…calmly, and get the truth for your own peace of mind.”

Shay took a long breath, reached for the report and stood, her eyes on him. “Uh…for the record, you can kiss me anytime you want.”

His heart flip-flopped and his breath hitched as he saw the truth in her eyes. Before he could move, the front door opened and closed, effectively ending the moment.

“Hey, look at me. I’m a cowboy.” Darcy ran into the kitchen wearing his Stetson, Tiny yelping at her heels. No one wore his hat, and Chance wanted to remove it from her head, but he made no effort to do so. In that moment he knew he was in so deep with Shay that he was never going to find his way out—not that he wanted to.

“Where did you get that?” Shay asked Darcy.

“In his truck.” She pointed to Chance. “It’s a stepson.”

“A Stetson,” he corrected.

Shay smiled at Chance and then looked at her daughter. “Finish your homework. Mr. Hardin will help you with your spelling.”

Chance did a double take. “What?”

“Does he know how to spell?” Darcy whispered.

Shay leaned down to her level. “I bet he does. I have to talk to Blanche, so be nice.”

Chance and Darcy stared at each other and then she ran to get her homework.

“I have to write a paragraph….”

Darcy’s words went right over his head. He wondered what was happening down the hall.

S
HAY OPENED
her mother’s door and closed it behind her.

“Oh, Shay. I was going to call you. Where’s my nighttime medication?”

“In the nightstand drawer.”

“Get it.” Blanche’s breathing wasn’t so raspy tonight, so it was a good time to confront her.

“It’s early for your medication.”

“I’m tired and I want it now.”

Shay walked closer to the bed. “First I want to talk.”

Blanche frowned at her. “About what? I told you I’m tired.”

“Explain this.” She handed her the DNA results and her glasses from the nightstand.

“What is it?” Blanche whined.

“Read it and you tell me.”

“Sometimes you can be a pain in the ass.” Her mother slipped on her glasses and glanced at the paper. Her skin turned a sickly gray. “When did you take a DNA test and why?”

“I took it to prove to Judd that I was Jack Calhoun’s biological daughter. I mean, I heard it every day of my life so I had no doubts. As your daughter I should be given your jewelry and half of Southern Cross. Wasn’t that your plan?”

Blanche remained silent.

“I even tried to rob their house—perfect strangers! I could be in jail right now.”

Still Blanche didn’t speak.

“All you ever think about is Jack Calhoun. You dream about him at night. Tell me how you could cheat on a man you professed to love so much?”

Blanche threw the paper on the floor. Shay immediately picked it up and slapped it back on the bed. “Who is my father? My biological father?”

Blanche weakly waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. To me you were always Jack’s child.”

“It matters to me.” Shay poked a finger into her chest, and then demanded, “Who is my real father?”

“I’m getting fed up with this, Shay. I’m ready to go to sleep.”

“You’re not closing one eye until I hear the truth—the whole truth.”

Blanche didn’t say a word, but Shay wasn’t going to let her play possum. She was set on doing this now. “Mother…”

“Oh, okay.” Blanche pushed herself up on the pillows. “I met him at one of those fancy parties Jack loved to attend to show me off. I was very beautiful in those days.”

“I know,” Shay murmured under her breath. She knew that better than anyone. Her mother had used her beauty to destroy.

“He was young, handsome, and I lost my head. Jack was being mean to me that night because I was dancing with the guy. He said I was acting like a whore out for a good lay, and if I didn’t behave he was taking me home. He treated me like a child who needed to be told what to do. I was mad, and when the young man whispered in my ear to meet him upstairs, I did.”

People in love didn’t do things like that, did they?
Of course they did,
Shay told herself. How naive could she be? But that wasn’t love…Shay wanted more—a forever love that didn’t fade with time or suddenly disappear when someone younger and more exciting came along.

“It was a stupid decision that I regretted later, but I couldn’t change what happened,” Blanche said. “I thought Jack would never find out and life would go on as before. But evidently the maid saw us go into the bedroom, and told the wife of the man giving the party. The next time she saw Jack she told him. The bitch never liked me.” Blanche coughed, trying to catch her breath.

Shay handed her a Kleenex to wipe her mouth.

“I came home one day from shopping and found a small suitcase at the back door. The door was locked
and my key wouldn’t work. Finally Jack unlocked it and told me to get off the ranch. He added that no one cheats on him. That was the last time I saw him. I begged and pleaded but he wouldn’t listen.” Blanche twisted the Kleenex in her hands.

“You never told him about me because you knew he’d have a DNA test done to prove paternity.” Now some of the past was making sense.

“You’re Jack’s daughter. You are! You are! You are!” She pounded her fists on the bed and sank back against the pillows, completely out of breath.

Shay adjusted Blanche’s oxygen and gave her a few minutes. As she waited, she thought of how much of her mother’s life was make-believe, and she had to wonder about Blanche’s mental faculties.

“Who is my biological father?” Shay asked quietly.

Blanche pointed to some photo albums on a shelf. “Get…get me the brown leather one.”

Shay did not want to look at photos of Jack and Blanche in their heyday, but she reached for the album and handed it to her mother. Besides bras, underwear and a few clothes, it was one of the items in the suitcase Jack had packed for Blanche. Evidently he hadn’t wanted any photos of her left in the house.

Blanche flipped past pictures of her and Jack and finally pointed to one of a group of people. “That’s your biological father.”

Shay looked at the smiling young man. He was blond, his hair had a slight curl and he was tall compared to the other people in the photo.

“What color are his eyes?” Shay couldn’t help but ask.

“Blue,” Blanche replied. “A sparkling blue.”

She bit her lip. “What’s his name?”

“Eric Farnsworth.” Her mother answered without pausing. “That’s his father standing to the left.”

Shay looked at her grandfather. His hair was completely white and he had a regal bearing. But he didn’t appear happy. Peering closer, she could see that Eric had his arm around Blanche’s waist, and Jack was scowling.
The beginning of the end,
was all Shay could think. And the beginning of her life.

“Where does he live?” she asked in a faraway voice.

“He was from Dallas, but he died a year after I met him. He was an adventurer and loved mountain climbing. Money wasn’t an issue with him. He lived off a trust fund from his grandfather.”

Shay let out a hard breath. “How did he die?”

“He fell off a mountain in Nepal. I read it in the paper. He was estranged from his father because he wouldn’t give up his wandering ways and settle down. The paper said that Mr. Farnsworth Sr. died of a massive heart attack when he heard the news.”