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Her eyes narrowed. “Have you seen the Townsends?”
“No. I told you I’d give you a couple of days.”
“Good.” The lovely lines of her face relaxed. “I have a counteroffer.”
He stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I want to make a counteroffer,” she repeated.
He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I thought you were here to accept the money.”
Fine eyebrows darted up in surprise. “Afraid not. Money doesn’t mean that much to me.”
“Then…why are you here?”
“I just told you.” Her voice became strained. “I have an offer of my own.”
“What?” he asked. What did she have to offer the Townsends?
She took a deep breath. “I will release my claim on the land and money on one condition.”
He tried not to let the shock show on his face. After all, he was a professional and good at hiding his emotions. He massaged his temple with a forefinger. “What condition?”
Looking him straight in the eye, she said, “That Rob and John Townsend take paternity tests.”
“I see,” he said quietly. His mind racing, he picked up a pen and studied it as if it was twenty-four-carat gold.
“The land and money would have been nice, but since I’ve never had either, it doesn’t matter that much. What matters most to me is finding my parents. I feel Mrs. Townsend wanted that for me, too.”
C.J. had a one-track mind—finding her parents. That goal could be very costly to her, and Matthew wondered if she really understood what she was giving up.
His dark gaze searched her face. All he saw was a spirited woman who warmed his blood. That wasn’t good; he was too aware of her, her beauty and her emotions. He had to get back to New York and to the kind of women he knew how to handle. Because he had no idea how to deal with C. J. Doe and her country-girl charm.
Matthew moved around his desk, hoping for a way to reach her. “Everyone knows Mrs. Townsend had a big heart. Don’t you think that what she wanted was to give you some security? And in that case, it had nothing to do with your parentage.”
She was thoughtful for a moment. “You’re good. For a second there I almost believed that.”
Sitting on the edge of the desk, Matthew folded his arms across his chest. “Obviously you believe the rumors that have been circulating around this town for years.”
“Rumors start somewhere.”
One rumor stood out in Matthew’s mind, and he knew it stood out in hers, too. “As I recall, the rumors started with Joe Bob Schaffer. He claimed a beautiful dark-haired woman drove into his gas station around eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve asking directions to the Townsend ranch. As he was putting gas in her car, he noticed a baby in a basket on the back seat.”
“Yes,” she murmured. That rumor had haunted her for years. Maybe because it had always seemed credible to her.
“Evidently you’ve forgotten that Joe Bob stayed drunk ninety-nine percent of the time and didn’t remember the incident until two weeks after you’d been found. That is, after the Townsends refused to renew his lease on the gas station. Sounds to me like the man just had an ax to grind.”
“Sounds like the truth to me,” she replied, refusing to dismiss the rumor so lightly. She took another step toward him. “I have to know who I am. I have to know why I was left on a doorstep on a cold December morning. It’s been burning inside me for years, and Mrs. Townsend has given me the power to force some answers. I believe that’s what she intended all along.”
The sincerity of her words touched him, but he felt he needed to be practical, to make her aware of the futility of her decision. “You’re willing to give up a million dollars to find out if Rob or John Townsend is your father?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
He didn’t understand her reasoning, but he wasn’t going to belabor the point. This was what he wanted, an easy solution. But was it easy? For her? And how were his clients going to react?
“You seem to feel sure the Townsends will agree to this.”
“There are two things the Townsends understand—greed and power. But when it comes to a choice, greed will win every time.”
He couldn’t argue that point, but he had to remind her. “You could be the big loser in all this.”
“Just knowing one way or the other will be a big victory for me. And I wouldn’t consider that a loss.”
There was great determination and confidence in her voice, but still he felt a need to warn her. “I strongly advise you to get an attorney.”
A look of implacable resolve lit her eyes. “There are a lot of things I’m not sure of in this world, but of this decision I am very sure. I don’t need a lawyer to fill my head with irrelevant nonsense.” She took another step closer to him, so close he could see the fire in her eyes. “Let me make this easy for you and the Townsends. If one of the tests turns out to be positive, I’ll relinquish any hold the Townsends fear I might have on their estate. Plus, whether the tests are positive or negative, I will release my claim on the land and the money.”
He whistled between his teeth. “That’s a powerful offer.”
“Yes,” she agreed, and turned toward the door. “When you have an answer, let me know,” she tossed over her shoulder. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back, green eyes twinkling. “Oh, Mr. Sloan, Jr., even though the Watsons are country people, we do have a telephone. So if you plan on coming out to the house, call first and I’ll open the gate. A bullet hole could really ruin a suit like that.” With those words she disappeared out the door.
A grin spread across Matthew’s face. Through all this, she could maintain a sense of humor. He admired that and he couldn’t help but admire her.
Unable to stop himself, he followed her to the front door. Through the window, he saw a four-wheel-drive truck pulling a long cattle trailer. Three horses occupied the trailer, and two dogs rested in the bed of the truck. Pete Watson sat on the passenger side of the cab, puffing on a pipe. It was actually a cab and a half, and he could see someone sitting in the back. Harry.
As he watched, C.J. climbed into the driver’s side and the truck roared to life. Within seconds it pulled out into the main street of Coberville, the trailer clanging behind it.
“SO HOW’D IT GO?” Pete asked.
“It’s going to take the city lawyer a while to recover from the shock. He tried to hide it, but I could see he thought I was crazy for throwing away all that money.”
“I hope you get the answers you’re looking for, girl,” Pete said, and added tobacco to his pipe.
“Oh, I’ll get something,” she said. “The Townsends will be huddled over this for days, but in the end they won’t be able to resist the offer. Then I’ll know if I’m a Townsend or not.”
“Don’t like this,” Harry muttered from the backseat.
In the rearview mirror, she caught Harry’s bearded face. To some he was a scary figure, but to her he was a lovable old man and she adored him.
“‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,’” Harry quoted.
C.J. appreciated his meaning in choosing this Shakespearean quote, but she had to ask, “Don’t you want me to know the truth?”
“Truth.” He snorted. “‘Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.’”
C.J.’s smooth brow furrowed into a frown. Mad? Would the truth make her mad? Mad as in angry? Or deranged? What had Harry meant? She knew better than to ask.
Most of the time Harry quoted Shakespeare, but he often changed the words to suit his purpose. Few people remembered he had studied literature at the University of Texas in his younger days. He wasn’t as ignorant as the majority of Coberville residents believed.
She shifted into third and anticipation ran through her. The Townsends had to accept her offer. The deal was too good to refuse, and she was counting on Matthew Sloan, Jr., to tell them that. While she’d been talking to him, she got the distinct impression that he was concerned for her welfare. That was ludicrous. Why would he care about her? He was the Townsends’ lawyer. But she could still feel those dark eyes touching her skin, warming her in a way that had nothing to do with business. Careful, she warned herself. She had only one goal, and that precluded an emotional involvement with anyone, especially the Townsends’ new lawyer.
MATTHEW WAS SO ABSORBED in watching the truck and trailer he didn’t hear Miss Emma come in until she asked, “Wasn’t that the Doe girl?”
He swung around and tried not to appear guilty at being caught staring. “Yes, it was.”
She plopped her big purse on the desk. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told that girl not to park that truck and trailer in front of this office. It takes up five or six parking spaces. Young folk never listen.”
“She was only here a minute, and there’s no traffic or clients at this hour.”
“Still, it’s the principle of the thing,” she complained, and sank into her chair. “I guess she was here about the Townsend case.”
“Yes, we discussed a few things,” he replied, not wanting to get into particulars with Miss Emma.
He started to ask about Herman, but decided to let that subject rest. He headed back to his office, then stopped. The last thing he wanted to do was gossip, but his curiosity about C. J. Doe overrode his aversion to cheap talk.
“Exactly what does C. J. Doe do for a living?”
Miss Emma glanced up from going through the mail and gazed at him through those ridiculous glasses. “She works cattle with the Watsons.”
“Works cattle?” he echoed blankly.
“Have you been gone from here so long you’ve forgotten what that is?”
“No,” he assured her in a crisp voice. “It’s just hard for me to imagine such a…small woman herding, branding and vaccinating cattle.”
“They say she’s the best,” Miss Emma said, ripping open a letter. “She can ride and rope better than anyone around here. Has a way with animals, too. The Watsons are getting older and C.J. does most of the work now.” She shook her head. “Never understood it. Why would a young girl give up a good job at the bank to work with those two old fools?”
“She worked at the bank?”
“Right after she graduated from college.”
“She went to college?”
Miss Emma frowned at his startled face. “What did you think? That they kept her locked up on the ranch?”
“No, I just didn’t see her as someone who could afford something like that.”
The sharp letter opener sliced through another letter. “An anonymous benefactor, that’s what it was.”
“Someone paid for her college education?” He felt like Herman repeating everything she said, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Sure did. An envelope of cash started coming to this office every month, and your dad deposited it in her account.”
“Unbelievable,” he said, then his eyes narrowed. “Did Dad know who was sending the money?”
“I don’t think so. The first envelope had a letter of instruction about how the money was to be used. C.J. asked all kinds of questions, but she never found out anything. She even staked out the office. Finally, to put an end to her snooping, a large sum was deposited in your dad’s name for her education. Money that couldn’t be traced, ’cause believe me, C.J. tried.”
Matthew tried to assimilate this bit of information. It was so unreal he had to find out more. “Why did she leave the job at the bank?”
Miss Emma shrugged. “Don’t know. I guess she didn’t like getting the cold shoulder from people who worked there. Your dad tried to talk her into staying there.”
“Seems she and my dad were quite close.”
“Your father helped a lot of people. C. J. Doe was just one of them.”
That didn’t explain anything, but he sensed Miss Emma was on the defensive, so he let it drop—for now.
Back at his desk his head was spinning. The money—that was how his dad had become involved with C. J. Doe. The pieces were starting to fall into place. He’d bet his dad had figured out who was sending the cash and confronted him or her. He’d also bet that person was one of C.J.’s parents, a parent who didn’t want to be known to C.J. or anyone else. So his dad had kept that person’s secret, not even telling his own wife. Who was it? And why so much mystery?
He didn’t have time to dwell on it now. He still had to deal with C.J.’s bombshell. “Miss Emma, call Rob Townsend and ask if I can see him this morning,” he said through the open door.
Acceding to C.J.’s request went against his every legal instinct, but then, nothing about this case was going according to form. He felt she was guaranteed to be the loser and would definitely get hurt in the process. But that was no concern of his. So why did he feel it was?
CHAPTER FIVE
TODAY’S DRIVE WAS THE SAME as yesterday’s, except that Matthew traveled about five miles farther down the road to the Cober ranch. Beyond the stone entrance were seven huge live oaks, hence the name Seven Trees. A towering Southern mansion with enormous white pillars stood proudly facing the trees, with a long drive circling in front of it. The scene was like something out of Gone with the Wind and it created the same impression of ante-bellum days. Bygone days.
The house had been built in the 1800s by Jeremiah Cober. His descendents had occupied it and Coberville ever since, a powerful family that time had not diminished.
Stopping on the circular drive, he got out and walked up the wide steps to the double front doors. He banged the brass door knocker and waited. A short man in a dark suit, white shirt and bow tie opened the door. The butler.
“Matthew Sloan to see Rob Townsend,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” the butler replied, stepping aside. “Come this way.”
In the entrance, Matthew stared at the magnificent dual spiraling staircases, expecting Scarlett O’Hara to gracefully descend one of them any minute. The place was breathtaking, from the marble floors to the velvet drapes and antique furniture.
He followed the man into a large room that resembled a library. “He will be right with you, sir,” the butler said, and closed the door.
“Thank you.” He scanned the room. Bookshelves covered two walls, and an antique desk and chair stood slightly to the right. Velvet chairs and sofa were grouped around a stone fireplace. On the opposite side of the room portraits of Cobers took pride of place, from Jeremiah Cober to William Cober and his two surviving children, Martha and Victoria, as well as his son, Will, who had died in early adulthood.
“Matthew,” Rob said, coming through the door dressed in casual slacks and a knit shirt. “Dad and Aunt Martha will be along in a minute. I would like the whole family to be in on this meeting. But my sister Joyce and her husband, Thurman Brown, the congressman, live in Austin and they’re busy with some political event. Clare, my other sister, also lives there. She’s the editor of one of our newspapers. I’ll have to fill them in later. Have a seat.” He gestured toward a velvet chair.
Before Matthew could move, the door opened and an elderly lady came in. Martha Cober was tall and big-boned, with cropped gray hair and a rather plain face. Matthew couldn’t help but be reminded of the difference between the two sisters. Victoria Cober had been a beauty, small and regal with flowing white hair.
“Matthew, I’m sure you remember my aunt Martha.” Rob made the introduction just as a nurse brought a man in a wheelchair into the room. John Townsend. With white hair and drawn features, he was a shadow of the forceful senator Matthew remembered. “And, of course, you know Dad.”
Matthew shook hands with the older man and was amazed at his strength. As Matthew glanced up, he noticed the nurse staring at him. Tall with bleached-blond hair and heavy makeup, she looked vaguely familiar.
“That will be all, Stephanie,” Rob said before Matthew could make the connection. She immediately left the room.
“Okay, Matthew, tell us the good news,” Rob said with a slight smile. “I’m sure the Doe girl has agreed to take the money.”
Matthew had barely opened his mouth to speak when another woman strolled into the room in worn jeans and an oversize silk blouse. The clothes were water stained. She held a white poodle under one arm, while a second hovered at her feet. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, emphasizing her honey-colored eyes and austere features.
Francine Gordon Townsend wasn’t the raving beauty everyone had expected Rob to marry. But years ago, when John Townsend’s political clout had began to wane, Rob had married the only daughter of a powerful political figure in Texas, forging the two families together and solidifying John Townsend’s bid for reelection. Politics did indeed make for strange bedfellows, Matthew thought.
“Darling.” Francine’s gaze settled on Rob. “You weren’t going to have this meeting without me, were you?”
