Given all that, he was almost relieved when Cody announced that the car’s air conditioner was working. Janet declined a halfhearted invitation to stay for supper, insisting that she and Jenny had to get home. Harlan waved them off with no more than a distracted reminder to be there at dawn again.

“Well, well, well,” Cody muttered beside him.

Harlan frowned at his son’s knowing expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it’s downright interesting to watch a woman twist you this way and that without even trying.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cody grinned. “Then you’re in an even more pitiful state of denial than I imagined. Want me to call in Jordan and Luke? Among us we probably have enough experience with women to give you any advice you need. Goodness knows we denied our feelings long enough to drive just about everyone around us to distraction. No sense in you doing the same thing, when we can save you all that time.”

“Go away.”

“Not till I’m through watching the entertainment,” Cody shot back as he sauntered over to his pickup. “’Night, Daddy. Sweet dreams.”

Sweet? Harlan could think of a dozen or more words to describe the kind of dreams Janet Runningbear inspired and “sweet” would be very low on the list. Provocative. Seductive. Steamy. Erotic. He had to go inside the air-conditioned house just to cool off from the images.

He consoled himself with the possibility that their first two meetings might have been aberrations. Boredom could play funny tricks on a man. The first thing that came along to relieve it might get exaggerated in importance.

Yes, indeed, that had to be it, he decided as he settled into a chair in his office with a book he’d been wanting to read for some time. A good, page-turning thriller was exactly what he needed tonight. That ought to get his juices flowing better than a leggy, sassy woman.

But the words swam in front of his eyes. His thoughts kept drifting to the enigmatic woman who presented such a placid, reserved facade. He’d enjoyed sparking confusion in those dark, mysterious eyes. He’d relished making a little color climb into her cheeks. Janet Runningbear wasn’t nearly as serene around him as she wanted desperately for him to believe.

He also had the feeling, virtually confirmed by her earlier, that there were secrets to be discovered, hidden reasons behind her decision to relocate to Texas.

As a kid he’d been fascinated by stories of buried treasure. He’d spent endless hours searching for arrowheads left behind by Native Americans who’d roamed over the very land on which White Pines had been built. Somewhere in the house, probably in Cody’s old room, there was a cigar box filled with such treasures.

If Janet Runningbear had secrets, he would discover them eventually. He’d make a point of it.