not taking advantage of me.”
“With those trigger-happy protectors around you, a man would have to be a fool to take advantage of you, Miss Doe.”
“Pete and Harry are harmless.”
“If you say so.”
He could feel her smiling and wished he could see her face. The sight had to be magical. His own lips curved into an answering smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
As he hung up the phone, the smile left his face. He hoped it would all turn out the way she wanted. Then he felt a moment’s shock. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t her lawyer, so he shouldn’t care about her interests, but—God help him—he did.
Had his father experienced these same feelings? Was that the reason he’d done nothing about the case? Or maybe there was something about C.J. that caused men to lose their sense of reason.
C.J. WALKED ONTO THE PORCH and sat on the swing. Dusk had settled in and the earth seemed to sigh, accepting the darkness and peace of nightfall. Pete puffed on his pipe and Harry whittled one of his many horse figures.
As she curled her feet beneath her, thoughts of Matthew Sloan, Jr., soon eclipsed the evening song of crickets and a faraway whippoorwill. Every time she heard his serious voice she got a fluttering in her stomach. Why was she so aware of him? He was the enemy, and a city man to boot. She knew the answer, but it really didn’t matter, she told herself. In a little while, he’d be gone and out of her life.
The Townsends had agreed to the tests. It was unbelievable, but it was the best news she’d heard in a long time.
Pete watched her thoughtfully. “Who was on the phone?”
“Matthew Sloan, Jr. The Townsends said yes to the blood tests.”
A shaggy eyebrow shot up in surprise. “You don’t say.”
She clasped her hands together. “Now I’ll have some answers. I’ll find out if I’m a Townsend.”
Pete rested his elbows on his knees, his brown eyes skeptical. “Girl, don’t go gettin’ your hopes up.”
“I’m trying not to, but it’s hard.”
“‘The devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape,’” Harry interjected.
C.J. sighed with exasperation. “Harry, that makes no sense.”
His knife slipped through a piece of wood with ease, leaving wood shavings at his feet. “Beware of the devil in men, my girl,” he told her.
She chewed on her lower lip and decided to give up trying to understand Harry and his quotes. But sometimes there was logic hidden in his words. Tonight, though, she didn’t want to search for logic. She wanted to savor this moment.
Pete took a puff on his pipe, his eyes narrowed, as the aromatic scent of tobacco drifted toward her. “Just be sure this is what you want, girl,” he said. “Because when it’s all over, you’re not gonna have anything Victoria Townsend left you. All you’ll have are the results of a couple of blood tests.”
“I’ll have the truth,” she said fiercely. “I have to know who I am.”
Why couldn’t anyone accept how badly she needed that? Pete and Harry, in their practical wisdom and their deep concern for her, saw only that the land and money would give her a secure future. But without a past she had no future. She would only be existing in a world where she didn’t belong. This was her last chance to find her identity. In her heart she knew it was what Victoria had wanted for her.
What if the results are negative? a voice inside whispered. She’d simply start over, she decided resolutely. She knew the risks and she was willing to take them. Negative or positive, she could handle the results.
Getting up, she headed into the house. “I’ve got some phone calls to make.” She stopped by Pete’s chair; her hand touched his shoulder in a hesitant gesture.
He patted her hand. “I understand, girl.”
She knew he did. He’d watched her suffer over the years, and if the blood tests were going to give her some peace, then he’d support this. She realized he had nagging doubts, but for her, he’d pushed them aside.
She bent and quickly kissed his rough cheek, knowing that whatever she had to go through in this world, Pete and Harry would be behind her one hundred percent.
THE NEXT MORNING C.J. walked into Matthew’s office and laid a piece of paper on his desk.
At the sight of her his pulse quickened. Her long hair was pulled back and held in place by a single red ribbon. Snug Wrangler’s hugged her long slim legs, and a red sleeveless shirt set off her slender tanned arms. A pink hue tinted her cheeks, either from the flush of excitement or just the reflection of her shirt. He couldn’t be sure. Whatever the reason, the effect was stunning.
He tore his eyes away and picked up the paper, scanning it.
“That’s a lab in Austin. Ryder Laboratories. Cliff Ryder is the director,” C.J. said.
Matthew fingered the paper. “Exactly how are you acquainted with this lab?”
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