The Texan's Secret by Linda Warren Page A

expected.”
    “And it’s going to get better,” his brother boasted.
    Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out a check. Placing it in front of Cadde, he asked, “Is that enough for my share?”
    Cadde glanced at it. “Been saving those pennies, have you?”
    “You bet. With free room and board there’s not much to spend my wages on.”
    “Except a fancy truck.”
    Chance nodded. “Just one that does the job.”
    Cadde stood. “Let’s go down the hall and I’ll show you your office.”
    Chance looked around Cadde’s big office, that had its own private elevator. One wall was of glass, showcasing Houston and beyond. The floor was shiny hardwood, with an Oriental rug in front of the desk. On the wall behind was another portrait of Roscoe and Al. Though it had been through its ups and downs, the company was currently thriving. A lot of that had to do with Cadde.
    Chance’s heart stopped when he noticed a framed photo sitting on an antique table: Chuck Hardin and his three boys. Chance remembered the day it was taken. Cadde and Kid’s basketball team had just won the district and were headed for the state championship—a week before the accident. A week before their world was shattered.
    Chance swallowed hard, pushing memories away. “I hope it’s not as lavish as this one.”
    “Nah. This is Roscoe’s old office. He believed in spending his money. I saved one down the hall just for you.”
    Chance placed his hat on his head and got to his feet. “You were that sure I was coming?”
    “Yep. You’ve heard about Dad’s dream for us most of your life, and I knew you wouldn’t forget that.”
    No, he never forgot his father—neither the man he was nor the man he used to be.
     
    T HE DNA TEST TOOK ONLY a few minutes. They swabbed Shay’s mouth, dropped the swab in a glass tube and labeled it. The girl told her she’d get the results within two weeks. And that was it. Shay had left work at four, thinking it would take longer.
    She stood outside the lab, staring at Chance’s phone number. Should she or shouldn’t she? She wanted to but…
    Getting into her rental car, she shoved the paper back into her purse. It was the right thing to do. Why didn’t it feel right?
    Backing out, she saw she had plenty of time before her class at the University of Houston. One day she’d get her degree so she could make a better life for Darcy, but finishing a degree in elementary education was taking forever, since she could only take night classes.
    Instead of meeting Chance she drove to the Galleria Mall and shopped, something she rarely did. She found some jeans and a T-shirt for Darcy on sale. That was Shay’s limit. She hated pinching pennies, but she should be used to it. She’d done it all her life.
    The whole time she was shopping she kept glancing at her watch. She could be having dinner with Chance, could be looking into those dark eyes. But she wasn’t ready for a relationship, especially with a Hardin from High Cotton, Texas.
    She stopped dead in the middle of the mall—so abruptly that a woman bumped into her, then gave her the evil eye. Shay ignored her and sank onto a bench. How could she tell Chance about her mother’s many lovers? And that Blanche’s number one goal had been to make it back to High Cotton and Jack Calhoun? She’d used many men to accomplish that, but it never happened. Blanche had caused only heartache and pain, and it was best for Shay not to get involved with anyone from that small community.
    Basically, Shay was an honest person, and if she saw Chance she’d eventually have to tell him how vindictive her mother could be.
    She reached in her purse for the number, intending to throw it in the trash. But for some reason she shoved it back inside once more.
    Oh God! Was she going to be like her mother?
     
    M ARCH TURNED INTO A PRIL and a lot of rainy days kept drilling to a minimum. That gave Chance time to settle into the oil business and get acquainted with everyone.
    Right