Linda Warren – The Truth About Jane Doe (страница 8)

That thought reminded him of C. J. Doe. All her life, she’d been searching for her roots, while he… Had he been running from his? He didn’t like to think so because he loved his father, and Coberville had a way of getting into his blood.

God, this soul-searching was driving him insane. Something about coming home always had him questioning his motives and the reasons for everything he’d done in his life. But he was doing what he wanted to do—practicing criminal law. And he was doing it where he wanted to do it—in New York. Happiness and all the rest would follow. Wouldn’t it?

Scooting his chair forward, he decided it was time to get his mind back on business. The Townsend case could be a problem and keep him in Coberville longer than he wanted to stay. He stared at the telephone. Should he call the Townsends? No, he’d told C. J. Doe he’d give her a couple of days. Maybe she’d realize how foolish she was being. But he knew that hope was in vain. Her pride, the same pride he’d witnessed in her as a child, wouldn’t let her. She was going to hold on to the land, making his life miserable. He’d be forced to take it away from her. The mere prospect knotted his stomach. Why couldn’t she just accept the damn money and get on with her life?

He leaned forward and picked up a pencil, tapping it against the desk. Suddenly all his frustrations welled up inside him and he threw the pencil. It bounced off the phone and landed on the carpet near the door.

Matthew stared at the pencil, then slowly raised his eyes to see C. J. Doe standing in his doorway. For a moment he was sure he’d imagined her, conjured her up. Last night she’d flitted in and out of his dreams with her long black hair cascading around her and green eyes beckoning.

Now her long black hair fell in a heavy braid down her back. Tight jeans molded her legs and hips. A green shirt intensified the color of her eyes—liquid green eyes that weren’t beckoning. They were somber and staring at him.

Slowly he got to his feet. “Miss Doe, come in.”

C.J. stepped farther into the room, then stopped. “Miss Emma wasn’t at her desk so I—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. He couldn’t resist a grin.

“Just be grateful she’s gone or she’d be making you sit there for a while.”

“Miss Emma’s a stickler for procedure, all right. Your dad used to tease her about it,” she said, enjoying the grin on his face. The New York lawyer had a devastating smile.

How did she know so much about his dad? Matthew wondered. As he shook that thought from his mind, he gestured toward a chair. “Have a seat.”

“No, thank you, I won’t be staying that long.”

He waited, but she didn’t say anything else. The offer had to be the reason she’d come here. He could have sworn she’d never change her mind, but money was always a good persuader. Disappointment ran through him, and he didn’t understand why. Because if C. J. Doe took the offer, it was going to make his life a whole lot easier.

“I assume you’re here about the offer,” he prompted.

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.