expression brightened. Those great big eyes of hers sparkled like coal well on its way to turning into diamonds.
“He’s my father,” she said with pride. “My adoptive father, actually. I was Jenny Runningbear before he married my mother and adopted me. Do you know him?”
“Oh, I know him, all right,” Chance said coldly. “Or maybe I should say I know all about him, since we haven’t exactly been introduced.”
“Dad!” Petey protested, tugging urgently on his jeans.
Chance ignored him. Before he could stop himself, he blurted what he’d intended to keep secret for a while longer yet. “Harlan Adams is my uncle. He and my father were brothers.”
She gaped at that, clearly stunned. Petey looked equally shocked that his father had done precisely what he’d been warning Petey not to do.
“That’s not possible,” Ms. Jenny Adams declared.
“Why? Because dear old Dad hasn’t mentioned his long-lost brother?” Chance said, surprised at the bitterness in his voice. Apparently Hank’s resentments had taken hold, after all. “They haven’t been on speaking terms in years, not since he rode my daddy out of town and stole his heritage out from under him.”
Genuine bemusement washed across her face. “That’s not possible,” she repeated, her tone a mixture of shock and outrage. “Obviously you don’t know my father at all if you think he’s capable of doing something like that.”
Chance forced a smile. “Oh, I assure you it’s more than possible, cousin Jenny. It’s a genuine fact.” He regarded her with a touch of defiance. “Unless you’re calling me a liar.”
He glanced at his son, who was following the exchange with a mixture of shock and relief. Apparently Petey figured this revelation was the next best thing to salvation, since it had served to distract his teacher from whatever she’d been intent on saying about his behavior in school today.
Chance thought Petey’s optimism was a bit premature. He doubted that Ms. Adams could be distracted so easily, at least not for long. She struck him as the kind of woman who was all sass and vinegar, the kind who’d needle a man until she got her way or provoke a fight just for the sheer fun of it. It was all there in those flashing black eyes. True, this news had thrown her, but she was visibly gathering her wits as the tense silence dragged on. He found he was looking forward to doing battle with her. Herding cattle wasn’t near as much of a challenge as arguing with a pretty woman.
“Well, I must say this is quite a shock,” she said eventually. “You’ve just moved into town, according to Petey’s file at the school.”
“A couple of months ago,” Chance confirmed.
She shook her head. “Daddy has a brother? I just can’t get over it.”
“Had a brother,” Chance corrected. “He died a few months back.”
Sympathy flared in her eyes at once. “Oh, of course. It was in Petey’s file. I’m so sorry.”
“No need for you to be sorry. You didn’t even know the man.”
Her eyes flashed for a second as if she might chastize him for being rude, but then her expression softened, once more sympathetic.
“I’m sorry just the same,” she insisted quietly. “I’ll have to tell my father you’re here. I know he’ll want to get to know you. We’ll have you come to dinner at White Pines.”
The ever-so-polite invitation grated, probably more than it should have since it was uttered with absolute sincerity. “No, thanks, darlin’. I’m not the least bit interested in dropping by for barbecue and coleslaw.”
This time her gaze narrowed at his rudeness. “Oh?” she said. “And why is that?”
She said it in that cool haughty way that might have tickled him under other circumstances. Chance forced another smile. “That would make it seem too much like I was a guest in my own home.”
“Excuse me?”
He regarded her with feigned surprise. “Why, darlin’, haven’t you figured it out yet? I thought for sure you were quicker than that.”
“Figured out what?”
He kept his gaze steady and his voice even. “That I’ve moved to Los Piños for the sole purpose of taking that big old ranch away from your daddy.”
* * *
Jenny felt a lot like kicking dust straight into Chance Adams’s arrogant face. Unfortunately, since she’d come to his house just to tell him his son required more discipline, she couldn’t see that throwing a temper tantrum herself would accomplish much. It might give Petey the notion that the only things separating them were age, height and power. It wouldn’t be a good lesson at all.
However, forcing herself to remain calm in the face of Chance Adams’s outrageous claim required every bit of self-control she possessed.
The whole thing was ridiculous. Of course, he was just confused. It was a case of mistaken identity or something. Harlan had no brother she’d ever heard about. He’d taken a dying ranch left to him by his shiftless daddy and made it pay. If White Pines was legendary in Texas and Harlan was powerful, then he owed it all to the sweat of his own brow. He hadn’t stolen anything from anyone. She’d have staked her life on that. She’d never met a more honorable man than the one who’d adopted her when he’d married her mother.
She supposed she ought to tell Chance Adams just how far off base he was, but the angle of that stubborn chin suggested she’d be wasting her breath. She studied that chin for just a moment and concluded there was a distinct resemblance between it and every other male in the entire Adams clan. The discovery shook her a little, because it lent just the tiniest bit of credence to his preposterous claim.
Rather than start an argument over who owned what, she said sweetly, “Perhaps I should leave you to work out those details with my father when you finally meet. I’m actually here to discuss Petey.”
The man sighed and some of the arrogance drained right out of him.
“What’s he done?” Chance asked as if expecting the worst. He glanced at his son. “Petey?”
Since Petey remained stoically silent, Jenny described that morning’s escapade.
“I’ll pay for the girl’s haircut,” Chance said readily enough.
“Perhaps Petey should pay for it,” Jenny suggested. She gestured toward the firewood. “Maybe chopping wood, for instance, would work off some of those aggressive tendencies. Physical exertion can be very healthy.” She ought to know. Harlan Adams had worked her butt off after she’d stolen and wrecked his pickup.
Chance scowled at her suggestion, clearly resenting it and her.
“I’ll deal with Petey the way I see fit,” he responded stiffly. “Maybe you should concentrate on getting control of your class. If you can’t cope with a bunch of nine-year-olds, maybe it’s time to look for other work.”
Petey shot her a triumphant look. He’d predicted his father
