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have to know why you tried to rob Southern Cross—a house in a small out-of-the-way town.”
    She still remained silent.
    “If you’re innocent, I’ll forget the whole thing.”
    Her hands curled into fists. “But I’m not innocent.” The words came out low, but he heard them.
    He felt a blow to his chest. For the first time he realized he wanted her to be innocent, or to have a very good explanation. In a short amount of time she’d awakened his heart. He’d thought it had stopped working long ago, but one look into her green eyes had started him thinking of happy endings and the fairy tales his mother used to read to him.
    Shay looked him in the eye. “If I tell you the truth, will you promise I won’t be arrested? I can’t leaveDarcy. I’m all she has.” She sighed heavily. “And, yes, I should have thought of her before….”
    “Why didn’t you?” When he saw the kid, he’d wondered why she’d take such a risk. There had to be a reason. “Where is the child’s father?”
    “Darcy is my adopted daughter. Her parents are dead.” Shay heaved another sigh. “I did a very stupid thing because—”
    “Shay!” a woman’s voice shouted, through a fit of coughing.
    Shay glanced over her shoulder. “I really have to go.”
    Chance placed his hand on the door to keep her from closing it. “Not until you tell me.”
    They stared at each other, one unyielding, the other determined. Shay knew she was beaten and had no choice. She had to open that can and reveal secrets that should never be told, at least to her way of thinking. It was a little late to realize her foolishness, but she had to consider Darcy now. First, though, she had to have some assurance.
    “Promise I won’t be arrested.”
    “If you didn’t take anything, I’ll do all I can to get Judd to drop the whole thing.”
    She frowned. “Why do you have to tell him?” She didn’t want anything to do with the Calhouns. Her momentary-insanity jaunt had made her realize she didn’t belong at Southern Cross. She should have kept that door closed, as always.
    “Because he’s the owner of Southern Cross, and as his foreman I don’t keep things from him.”
    “Do you have the word loyalty tattooed across your butt?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
    His lips twitched into a grin. “Yes.”
    Shay realized the conversation had switched into flirtation. This could be easy.
    She flipped back her hair. “Maybe you’ll show me one day.”
    “Maybe,” he drawled, and then his voice became serious again. “But first you have something to tell me.”
    Damn. She should have known this wouldn’t be easy. He probably really did have loyalty tattooed on his butt.
    “Well?” He waited.
    She tried to speak, but her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth.
    “Shay.”
    Her name sounded so wonderful on his lips. It reminded her of lovers, moonlight and… What was she thinking? There was never going to be anything between her and Chance Hardin, especially after she told him the truth, and for a number of other reasons.
    The words hovered in her throat and then she blurted them out. “My mother was once married to Jack Calhoun.”
    Chance felt as if he’d been kicked in the head by the meanest bronc in Texas. Had he heard her correctly? “Excuse me?”
    “My mother, Blanche Dumont, was Jack’s second wife. He lavished her with jewels and anything shewanted, but in the end he took everything from her, including her wedding rings.” Shay drew a long breath. “As I told you, my mother is dying of lung cancer and she’s obsessed with Jack Calhoun. He’s all she thinks about. She’s been pressing me for months about her rings. She wants to be buried with them on her finger, so she devised this plan…. That’s what I was doing in High Cotton.” Shay grimaced. “But things went awry.”
    The name finally clicked. Blanche Dumont—the stepmother from hell. How many times had he heard Judd say that? But not lately.