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DNA test. I assume there are others you’re talking to?”

“Actually, a friend of yours,” Mary said. “Jonathan Mason.”

Jason groaned. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but changed his mind. “My heart goes out to you. But maybe there was a reason your mother never told you who your father was.”

“Other than she wanted to protect him?” Chase demanded.

Jason sighed again. “I wish I could help you. I really do. But after all this time...”

“You think I should let it go?” Chase leaned toward the man threateningly.

Jason held up his hands. “I can see your frustration.”

“It’s not frustration. It’s anger. The man knocked up my mother, broke her heart and her spirit, and let her raise me alone. She was only seventeen when she became pregnant, had no education and no way to support herself but menial jobs. So, I’m furious with this man who fathered me.”

“Then why find him? What good will it do?” the lawyer asked.

Chase leaned back some. “Because I want to look him in the eye and tell him what I think of him.”

Mary rose and so did the attorney. “We’ll probably be back about that DNA test,” she said.

Jason nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. His gaze went to Chase and softened. “I cared about your mother, but I wasn’t her lover.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Chase said as they left.

“It’s him,” Chase said as they left the attorney’s office. His heart was pounding. He thought about what the man had said. “It’s him, I’m telling you.”

“I don’t know.”

“He admitted knowing her. You saw the way he looked at me. He knew the moment he shook my hand. He practically admitted it.”

“But he didn’t admit it,” Mary pointed out.

“He’s a lawyer. He’s too smart to admit anything.”

“He admitted that he knew her, that he cared about her. Chase, I think he’s telling the truth.”

He stopped walking to sigh deeply. Taking off his Stetson, he raked a hand through his hair and tried to calm down. “I don’t know why I’m putting myself through this. I’m twenty-eight years old. He’s right. What do I hope to get out of this?”

“A father.”

He let out a bark of a laugh. “That ship has sailed. I don’t need a father.”

“We all need family.”

He shook his head. “When I find him, I want to tell him off—not bond with him. Hell, I want to punch him in his face.”

At a sound behind them, they turned to see Jason hurrying toward his car.

“I think we should follow him,” Mary said as they watched him speed away.

Chase nodded, his gaze and attention on the attorney. “I think you’re right. He certainly took off fast enough right after we talked to him. Let’s go.”

They climbed into his pickup, turned around in the middle of the street and followed at a distance. “Where do you think he’s going?”

“Good question. Maybe home to talk to his wife.”

Mary shook her head. “He doesn’t live in this direction.”

“What if he is going to warn Jonathan Mason?”

“Maybe. But only if Jonathan is up at the mountain resort.” Chase drove up the road toward Lone Peak.

“Maybe he’s going to lunch,” he suggested.

“Maybe.” After a few miles, the lawyer turned into the Alpine Bar parking lot.

Jason parked, leaped out and went inside.

“He could have called someone to meet him,” Chase said.

She nodded. “Let’s give him a minute and go inside.”

Chase pulled into the lot next to the attorney’s car. It was early so there were only three cars out front. During ski season, the place would have been packed. “Recognize any of the rigs?”

She shook her head.

“Have I thanked you for doing this for me? I really do appreciate it.”

She smiled over at him. “You have thanked me. I’m glad to help, you know that. But Chase—”

“I know. Try not to lose my temper.”

“I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail,” she said, still smiling.

“But you would, wouldn’t you?” He reached out and stroked her cheek, his gaze locking with hers. “I’ve never loved you more than I do right now, Mary Cardwell Savage.” He drew back his hand. “Marry me when this is all over.”

She laughed and shook her head.

“I’m serious. What is it going to take to make you realize that you’re crazy about me? I want to make you Mrs. Chase Steele. We can have the big wedding I know your mother wants. But I was thinking—”

“You’re stalling. Come on, let’s go in,” she said, and they climbed out. He caught up with her and, taking her arm, pulled her around to face him.

“For the record? I was serious about asking you to marry me. Soon.” As he pushed open the door, country music from the jukebox spilled out. Chase heard a familiar song, and wished he and Mary were there to dance—not track down his no-count biological father.

He spotted Jason at the bar talking to the bartender, a gray-haired man with wire-rimmed glasses. As the door closed behind them, a man came through the back door. He caught a glimpse of a residence through the doorway and a ramp before the door closed.

The man motioned to Jason to join him at one of the tables in the back.

“Do you recognize him?” he asked Mary.

“It’s Jim Harris,” Mary said, and grabbed Chase’s arm to stop him. “What if the initials J.M. were short for Jim? Jim Harris owns this bar. He and his wife live in a house behind it.”

Chase stared at the man the attorney had joined. Blond, blue-eyed, midfifties. The scary part was that as he watched the man, he saw himself in Jim Harris’s expression, in the line of his nose, the way he stroked his jaw as he listened.

Chase didn’t know that he’d stopped in the middle of the room and was still staring until the man looked up. Their gazes met across the expanse of the bar.

Jim Harris froze.

Chapter 17

Chase felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He couldn’t breathe, had no

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