Chance McCall (31 page)

The desk clerk frowned as the bell jangled over the door again. If she missed this entire episode, she was gonna be pissed.

“Can I help you?” she asked sharply.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning over the counter. Logan toyed with the idea of flirting to get his answers and decided on bribery instead. He’d never been that desperate for a woman in his life. “I’m looking for a little information.”

Her eyebrows rose as she watched the big man’s hand sliding toward his pocket. She smirked and sidled up to the counter. “I’m just full of information,” she answered, and then stared pointedly at his wallet.

This one would be easy. Money always got results. “I’m looking for someone,” he said. “A man, maybe six feet or more. He’d have dark hair and eyes.” He started to give her some further description when he realized that he had no idea what in hell his own son looked like now. The knowledge was unsettling. “Well, have you seen anyone fitting that description…say in the past few days?”

Something about the man’s face reminded her of Mr. Twelve B; and that in turn reminded her how scary the sucker was when he got mad. Even if he was gone, she didn’t think this guy had enough money to pay her to make twelve B mad. She didn’t want him coming back and accusing her of anything. A lady had to be careful nowadays. “Not much of a description,” she said, and pushed herself away from the counter. “It’d fit just about half the male population of Odessa. You want a room?”

Logan Henry couldn’t believe it. He pulled out a wad of twenties and began peeling them off, one at a time. “Dammit! Are you certain you don’t remember anything?”

She fidgeted at the sight of all that money, but the memory of the big man who’d resided in twelve B outweighed her greed. She turned beet red, shoved her glasses up against her face, and pointed at the door.

“What kind of a place do you think this is? And better yet, what kind of a woman do you think I am? I can’t be bought, mister. By God! I’m not for sale.”

Her breast was heaving beneath her hot pink jumpsuit as she watched the man leave her office. The announcer’s voice on the television behind her caught her attention and she turned in fury as she heard, “and so are the days of our lives.”

“Well that just figgers,” she drawled as she slammed her butt down in the chair, and dialed the phone.

“Georgie,” she asked, “did you watch ‘The Days’ today? Well, thank God! I’ve had such an afternoon, you wouldn’t believe. I missed everything after Lawrence was about to…”

Logan Henry slammed the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space. His driving mirrored his mood as he left tracks of his tires on the pavement. The smell of hot rubber sifted through the air, and then the constant Odessa wind moved it away.

Chance was too quiet. Jenny’d noticed it happening right after they’d called Marcus. He’d managed to laugh and respond to all her remarks at the proper times as they took a room at the Best Western Garden Oasis. But the more time passed, the quieter he became. Finally, Jenny could stand it no longer. If she was the cause, she had to know.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. “’Cause if you are, you’ll have to tell me what I did wrong. I know being afraid of a little mouse caused a lot of upheaval, but honestly Chance I just can’t help…”

Chance scooped her up from her seat in the middle of the bed and cradled her against his chest. He stared long and hard at the uncertainty behind those somber blue eyes.

“Jennifer Ann, if I ever hear you say anything so stupid again, I’ll wring your little neck. I’m not real up-to-date on what my past personality has been…but if I was that goddamned picky about my life, I don’t want it back.” He hugged her to soften his words. “No, I’m not mad at you. And I’m sorry if you thought I was…even for a minute.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, lingering longer on her full lower lip than absolutely necessary.

He stepped backward, lowering them both into a chair. Jenny settled comfortably across his lap and leaned her head against his shoulder. She picked absently at a shirt snap as she waited for his explanation.

Chance sighed. He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling the fragrance of her shampoo, smiling to himself at the way she curled into his lap like a contented cat.
My Jenny
! The thought was intoxicating.

“So?” she persisted. “You’re going to have to communicate. That’s what caused all this separation to begin with. You keep secrets.”

The tone of her voice told him more than words could ever have done. He’d hurt her…many times. But that was then, this was now. She’d never be victim to secrets again. At least, not from him.

“Who called me, Jenny? It wasn’t Marcus. We talked to him. And I called Victoria a few minutes ago and let her know our new location and phone number. The call we didn’t answer wasn’t from her either. There’s no one else who knows I’m here.”

“So?”

“So, who’s still out there watching me…that I don’t remember? What if there’s a part of me I don’t know about that could hurt me, or us? We still don’t know everything there is to know about my past. What if I’ve done—”

“Just shut up, Chance!” Jenny said sharply. “I don’t want to hear anymore of these ‘what ifs.’ If you don’t know yourself any better than that, then you’re just going to have to take my word for it. I can tell you that I’d bet my life you’ve never done anything of which you should be ashamed. You’re not that kind of man!”

The fierce look of protectiveness was back. He’d seen it when she’d come storming in the door of the motel and caught him hugging Victoria. And he’d witnessed it when she’d stepped in and assumed control of the conversation between him and the Beltons, when they met outside the nursing home. He’d been so stunned by their appearance, he’d been speechless. It hadn’t taken Jenny long to come to his defense. She might be little, but she was mighty, and she was all his.

“You know what, honey?” he said.

Jenny saw that familiar grin spreading across his face and knew he was about to tease her. It always happened when she got too intense, and that was often.

“What?” she muttered.

“You make a better lover than a fighter. You’re just the least bit undersized to be trying to whip the butts of everyone who bothers me.”

Jenny wanted to argue, but she knew when she’d been bested. It was time to change the subject.

“I only have one thing further to say,” she said.

Chance caught the intent look on her face and knew a barb was coming. “What’s that, my little mighty mouse?”

She glared, daring him to mention her and mice again in the same breath. “Either take me to bed, or feed me.”

He burst into laughter, dumped her off his lap, and then pointed to the door. “Get yourself out the door, woman. I’ve got to feed myself before I take
you
to bed again. If I don’t you’ll kill us both.”

Jenny had the grace to blush. “Well,” she shrugged, “we have to kill time somehow until Victoria comes tomorrow. I just thought—”

“Get your purse, Jennifer Ann,” Chance said, laughter still evident in his voice. “You think entirely too much.”

It was getting late. The sunset was as magnificent as usual, but Logan Henry didn’t see it. He was too busy searching for a gas station. The one he finally found was self-service, and he cursed to himself as he crawled out of his car, longing for the good old days when all you had to do was drive into a station and yell, “fill ’er up.” Nowadays he had to hunt for a station that still offered such services and pay more for the gas. Not that money was a problem, it was just the principle of the thing.

He turned to survey the busy intersection, wondering where he ought to go for his evening meal. Ever since his wife had left him, he’d eaten out more than in. Cooking was not one of his skills. He had a housekeeper, but she didn’t like to cook and did so only when asked. Today he hadn’t thought to ask. He looked at his watch and sighed. It was too late to ask now. She was probably gone already.

A car honked at the gas station across the street. He turned in reflex at the sound, and then stared in shock at the tall, broad-shouldered man who was putting gas in a red pickup truck. The face was more than familiar. It was like looking at a mirror image of himself…only thinner…and younger. The man turned and smiled, obviously talking to someone else inside the truck.
Oh Jesus
! Logan thought.
It’s got to be him. I was right! And, he’s not alone! Where in hell is Victoria
?

His stomach churned. Sweat popped out and ran down the back of his shirt. Then a big eighteen-wheeler pulled up to the stoplight and stopped directly between the two stations, obstructing his view. Another pulled up behind it, and Logan cursed in fury.

“Move, dammit,” he muttered aloud, and then winced at the frown he received from an elderly lady getting out of a BMW at the pumps just ahead of him. “Not you, ma’am,” he apologized, “I was talking about…” It didn’t matter. What in hell was he thinking? He didn’t have to apologize to a total stranger. But he did have to know the identity of that man…and who he was with.

He started across the street. He didn’t think. He just ran. A car came to a screeching halt only inches away from him. The driver honked, and Logan shrugged and started again. The light changed, and the traffic began to move. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Either he got the hell out of the street or became the latest spot of roadkill on Highway 80.

He jumped back onto the curb just in time, watching in frustration as the traffic began to move. The two big eighteen-wheelers ground their gears, jerked and screeched, and slowly moved across the intersection. Logan held his breath, waiting, staring intently across the street through the dusky evening.

“Well, hell’s fire!” he yelled, as the space between the stations cleared. The red pickup was no longer anywhere in sight. The man and his companion had disappeared.

The woman in the BMW turned and glared. “Listen, mister!” she said, “you’ll live a whole lot longer if you’ll just calm down and wait your turn. Take it from one who knows.”

She set the nozzle neatly back into the pump, retrieved her purse from the front seat of her car, and went into the station office to pay.

Logan didn’t know whether to laugh at the incongruity of their misguided conversation or curse in frustration. The answer to his sleepless nights had been right across the street, and he’d lost it.

He didn’t know where the red pickup truck had gone, but he knew where
he
was going. Gas flowed, money changed hands, and Logan Henry headed out of town, racing nightfall.

“Grandpa!” the twins yelled in delight as they opened the door.

Logan grinned, caught the two blond-haired ruffians in mid-flight, and wrestled them both to the living room floor.

“Where’s your momma?” he finally asked when they stopped squealing and laughing.

“I’m right here,” Victoria said, as she walked into the room. “Kenny! Mark! Get off your grandpa right now! What have I told you two boys about wrestling in my house?”

Logan grinned in apology for what he knew was an infraction of Victoria’s long-standing rule. “It was my fault,” he said.

“It always is,” she answered. And then she changed the subject. “Have you had dinner? I just got home. I haven’t had time to fix anything. yet. It’ll be no trouble to add another steak to the grill.”

“Where’ve you been?” he asked. Too sharply. He knew it the moment the words came out of his mouth. He tried to soften the implication, but it was too late.

“Give it a rest, Dad,” Victoria said. Anger was thick around her.

“I didn’t mean it the way…”

“Yes you did. If you have any respect for me at all, at least don’t lie to me about that!”

“Mom! What’s wrong?” Kenny asked. “You and Grandpa are always fighting. Why? Don’t you like each other?”

Mark echoed his brother’s question by punching his grandfather’s leg, trying to start the game all over and break the tension.

“Of course I do,” Victoria said. “Both of you, go wash. Now! Then you can help me with the grill.”

“Yea!” they yelled in unison, and ran from the room, each in a desperate effort to be the first through washing up and the first back to the grill.

Victoria rolled her eyes and headed back to the patio.

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder, “you can start the charcoal. I always make a mess.”

“Victoria?”

“What?” She turned, surprised that her father was still standing where she’d left him.

“Do you like me?”

The question broke her heart. How long was this thing going to stand between them? Even when they both tried to ignore it…even when they each managed to forget it for a span of time…something kept reopening the old wounds…and reviving the old anger.

Victoria felt guilt at concealing her knowledge of Chance’s return. For years, she’d yearned for a reconciliation among them all but feared that it was nothing more than a dream, because Chance’s whereabouts were unknown. She imagined a time when he would be welcomed as a brother, a beloved addition to their family. And now, when it was so close, it seemed as impossible as it had the day all their worlds had fallen apart.

“Daddy!” Her voice broke, and she walked back into his arms. “I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing tears. “I didn’t mean to jump on you.”

He hugged her tight. “And I didn’t mean to imply anything.” His conscience tugged. “Well hell, I
did
mean to imply, but I’m sorry, anyway.”

Victoria laughed. He was impossible, as always. But when it mattered, he was honest. He might not have many scruples, but he had a conscience that wouldn’t let him be a total heel.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving. Ken is coming home day after tomorrow, and I can hardly wait. He and the boys had to postpone their trip to Big Bend National Park. They’ve been driving me crazy. When he returns, I’m going to go to bed and sleep for a week.”

Logan smiled, followed her onto the patio, and dutifully began building a fire in the grill. But the thought kept rolling around in his head that she never had answered him. He still didn’t know where she’d been. Or if she’d been there alone.