earned it. He had.
Roscoe had been paranoid about Jessie’s safety ever since his niece had been kidnapped and murdered. After the tragedy he’d had Jessie guarded twenty-four hours a day. Cadde had told Chance that Jessie was seven at the time, and now she had to be close to thirty.
Even though she was a fully grown woman, Roscoe didn’t let up on his protection of Jessie. On his deathbed he’d made a deal with Cadde, who had been his right hand at Shilah. If Cadde married Jessie and promised to protect her, Roscoe would make him CEO of the oil company and sign over a portion of his shares. Roscoe just forgot to mention that his daughter would inherit the biggest part of Shilah Oil, the company Roscoe and his brother, Al, had started in the forties.
Chance had met Jessie a couple of times when he’d visited Cadde in Houston. She was a petite, dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty, and he could see why Cadde had no problem with the arrangement. Not that Chance knew much about it—Cadde’s marriage was his business. He just didn’t figure his brother as the marriage-of-convenience type. Although Cadde would do anything to further his career in the oil industry. It had been his dream since they were kids.
It had been the dream of their father.
“I can handle Jessie.”
Chance came back to the conversation with a start, but kept his emotions in check, as always. Fiddling with his cup, he had to admit that Cadde could probably handle Jessie—the way he handled everything in life, with his confident, can-do-anything air. Just like Kid, Cadde was unstoppable when he had his mind set on something.
“We need you, Chance. Your skill with the rigs is better than that of anyone I know. I want to try the new drilling techniques on some of the old leases, to give those fields a jump start. You’re the man to oversee the job.”
Chance swallowed hard. “I’m happy at Southern Cross.”
Cadde leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his chair making a scraping noise on the tiled floor. “Why don’t you just admit that you still blame Kid and me for the accident?”
The kitchen became painfully quiet. Talking about that horrible night was something they never did. The wrought-iron clock on the wall ticked away precious seconds. Aunt Etta moved from the kitchen counter to stand a few feet from the table, a wooden spoon in her grasp just in case she had to break up a fight, much as she had when they were boys.
A hand lightly touched Chance’s shoulder—a gesture from Uncle Rufus, telling him to keep his cool. Their elderly aunt and uncle had taken the Hardin boys in after their parents’ tragic deaths, and knew them better than anyone.
“I never blamed you,” Chance said clearly and without emotion. That night was too heartbreaking to think about, but he could feel the memory slicing into his brain with a sharp edge of reality. His parents had been returning home to High Cotton from an out-of-town basketball game of Cadde’s and Cisco’s.
Chuck Hardin had pulled two shifts on an oil rig and then had taken his wife and Chance to the game because his sons had wanted him at the state championship. Speculation was he’d fallen asleep at the wheel. Chance knew differently. Dozing in the backseat, he was the only one who’d survived that fatal crash as the car had swerved, left the road and hit a tree. And the only one who knew what had really happened that night.
He planned to take that secret to the grave.
Cadde eased back, his dark eyes pinned on Chance. All three brothers had the deep brown eyes of their father. “You’ve been different ever since. Distant. Getting anything out of you is like pulling teeth.”
Chance didn’t squirm. He met Cadde’s stare. “Losing one’s parents can change a person.”
“Yeah,” Kid interjected in a nostalgic tone. “We’ve all changed, but it’s time for us to be family again—the Hardin boys taking on the world.”
That sounded good to Chance, but he couldn’t weaken. Guilt beat at him like a persistent hangover. If he spent more time around his brothers, he wouldn’t be able to keep his secret. Telling them would destroy their love and trust of their father, as it had destroyed his. He wouldn’t do that—ever.
Uncle Rufus stood. In his seventies, bowlegged and a cowboy to the core, Rufus Johns spoke little, but when he did, they listened. He and Aunt Etta had worked for the High Five ranch since they were teenagers, and lived in a small house not far from the big house, as they called the Belle residence on the ranch. Now Rufus, as he’d been many times when they’d lived with him, was again their mediator.
“Your brothers asked you a question. It requires a simple yes or no. What’s your answer?”
Chance clenched his jaw and willed himself to relax. “No. I have a good job at Southern Cross and I’m not interested in leaving it for the oil business…just yet.”
“Damn it.” Cadde hit the table with his fist, making the coffee cups rattle.
Aunt Etta tapped his shoulder with her spoon. “You’re not too old for me to use this on, you know. Respect your brother’s decision. You and Kid can get into enough trouble on your own.”
Cadde hooked an arm around Etta’s thin waist and pulled her to his side. “Aunt Etta, Chance is missing out on the biggest opportunity of his life.”
“That’s his choice.”
“I just…”
Cadde’s words trailed away as five-year-old Kira Yates burst though the back door, followed by her parents, Skylar and Cooper. Kira eyed the two strangers and edged her way over to Chance. “Look what I drew in school.” She handed him the paper. It was a child’s drawing of a family.
Chance introduced his brothers to Kira.
“I’m gonna have a brother, too.” Kira pointed proudly to the picture.
“I see. Very good.”
Kira carried the picture to Etta.
“What a little artist you are.” The elderly woman kissed the top of her head. “Miss Dorie is waiting for you in the parlor.”
“Gotta go.” Kira darted away.
Sky, the youngest Belle daughter and five months pregnant, walked over to the table. “My, my, the Hardin boys are back in town. Lock up your daughters, folks. They can’t be trusted.”
Kid got to his feet and hugged her. “Dane used to say that all the time.” He, Cadde and Chance had grown up with the Belle sisters, and Dane Belle had been like the father they’d lost.
Sky winked. “Especially to his daughters.”
Kid rocked back on his heels with the crafty grin of a possum eating honey. “Have no idea why.”
Of all the brothers, he hid his pain in humor and romancing the ladies. He was well known for it. Cadde was the driven one, set on making his dream come true. Chance, on the other hand, buried himself behind a veil of secrecy. The accident had affected all their lives, one way or another.
Cadde rose and hugged Sky and shook Cooper’s hand. “I heard you’re the owner of High Five now.” When Cooper had allowed himself to fall in love with Sky, he’d decided to stay in High Cotton forever, so he’d approached Caitlyn and Maddie, the other two sisters, with an offer they couldn’t refuse.
“Yep, and I heard you’re the owner of an oil company.” Cadde, Cooper and Judd Calhoun, owner of Southern Cross, were about the same age and had gone to school together, along with Maddie’s husband, Walker. High Cotton was a close-knit community of family and friends.
Cadde nodded. “I guess we’ve grown up.”
“Sobering, isn’t it?” Cooper replied, while shaking Kid’s hand. “Still riding shotgun?” Cadde and Kid were fourteen months apart, and so close, people often thought they were twins. The humorous Kid always kept the deep and brooding Cadde in line with his antics, or more accurately, kept him on