His Defender

by Stella Bagwell

  “Ms. Corrales? Are you still there?”

  Isabella pulled her attention back to the telephone. “Yes.”

  “Dr. Hastings would like you to meet her for lunch. If that suits your schedule.”

  “Just tell me when and where,” Isabella told her.

  “Be here at the office at twelve-thirty. She should be finished by that time. Barring any emergencies between now and then.”

  “I’ll be there. Thank you.”

  Isabella hung up the telephone, then glanced at her wristwatch. She had a couple of hours to kill before she needed to be at the doctor’s office. She’d use the time to make notes, and perhaps when she met Ross’s sister, she’d have a mental list made of all the things she needed to ask the woman.

  More than two hours later, Isabella entered Victoria Ketchum Hastings’s medical clinic. Except for a blond, middle-aged woman seated behind a low counter, the waiting area was empty. The receptionist looked up at Isabella and smiled.

  “You must be Ms. Corrales?”

  “That’s right.”

  The woman rose to her feet. “We just finished with the last patient. I’ll tell Dr. Hastings that you’re here.”

  Close to five minutes passed before a tall woman with shoulder-length dark hair and pale skin pushed her way past a pair of swinging doors to enter the waiting area. A white lab coat covered most of her red blouse and white slacks.

  After stuffing a stethoscope into the pocket of her coat, the doctor smiled and extended a hand to Isabella.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Corrales. A patient was on the phone,” she apologized. “I’m Victoria Hastings. Please call me Victoria.”

  Isabella immediately liked the woman’s strong, warm handshake and direct eye contact. “Call me Bella,” she invited with a smile. “And I should be the one apologizing for interrupting your work.”

  Victoria Hastings quickly pulled off her lab coat and hung it on a nearby coatrack. “You’re not interrupting anything. I have to eat lunch at some point and this gives me a good excuse to go to the café. Would you like to walk? I thought we’d go to the Wagon Wheel. It’s my favorite.”

  “Sounds good,” Isabella agreed.

  The two women left the clinic and walked down the street to the nearby eating place. Inside, they found a booth located next to a plate-glass window. Once they were seated and Isabella was facing Ross’s sister, she had no problem coming to the conclusion that Victoria Hastings was a beautiful woman. Like Ross, her hair was a shade off black and her eyes were green. However, beyond that similarity, their features were different. Victoria resembled the woman in the photo Isabella had been studying back at the T Bar K, whereas Ross appeared to have inherited his father’s rugged facial traits.

  “I really appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to meet with me today,” Isabella told her.

  Victoria smiled with pleasure. “Oh, it’s no problem. In fact, this morning when Lois told me you were on the phone, I was thrilled. Ever since Neal told me he’d hired you, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I love my brother very much and I’m sure you can understand how worried I’ve been about this whole mess.”

  A wry smile touched Isabella’s lips. “It’s a good thing Neal hired me. Otherwise, your brother would still be without a lawyer.”

  Victoria nodded as though she understood completely. “I know. Hiring you was my and Neal’s decision. Ross doesn’t think he needs a lawyer.” She let out a little mirthless laugh. “But then Ross doesn’t think he needs anybody.”

  Especially a woman, Isabella thought grimly.

  Concern marked Victoria’s features as she looked at Isabella. “Is Ross—does this thing appear serious to you?”

  A waitress appeared at their table and for a moment their conversation was interrupted as the two women both ordered the blue plate special and glasses of iced tea. After the young waitress had left, Isabella carefully answered Victoria’s question.

  “Well,” she began, “it seems that what the sheriff’s department has against Ross is mostly circumstantial evidence. And there’s not a whole lot of that. Except that the rifle belonged to Ross.”

  “And that his fingerprints were on it,” Victoria added ruefully.

  “That isn’t all that damning,” Isabella pointed out. “The rifle was his. His fingerprints should have been there.”

  With a weary shake of her head, Victoria leaned back in the booth. “I just wish he could account for his whereabouts at the time of the shooting. Then there wouldn’t be any doubt or suspicion by the D.A.’s office, or anyone else for that matter.”

  Isabella studied her closely. “Do you think he’s capable of shooting at your husband? Of trying to kill him?”

  “Capable?” Victoria’s features twisted as she contemplated the question. “I’m sure Ross would be capable of shooting at a man in order to defend himself. But to dry-gulch someone? No. It would take a cold-blooded person to do that and believe me, there’s nothing cold about Ross.”

  Isabella could certainly attest to that, she thought wryly. The man was passionate. Not only about women, but also about the T Bar K and his beliefs in general.

  “Tell me about that evening,” Isabella urged.

  Victoria gave her a quick rundown of what had taken place in the arroyo before and after Jess had been shot. Just hearing the woman describe the fear and horror of the incident sent shivers down Isabella’s spine.

  “So you believe whoever took a shot at Jess escaped on horseback,” Isabella said.

  Victoria nodded. “At first I thought it might have been Dixie or Chito running away. But then—”

  “Wait.” Isabella pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse. “Who are Dixie and Chito?”

  “Our horses. Jess’s and mine.”

  “Okay.” She scribbled down a few notes in shorthand, then smiled across the table at Ross’s sister. “Sorry. I’ve often been accused of being meticulous. But believe me, in my business the smallest detail sometimes pays off.”

  “Oh please, don’t apologize. I’m just so relieved you’re here to help Ross,” she said gratefully. “I’ve had this awful feeling—ever since the John Doe was ruled a homicide—that something terrible was going to happen. And I’m still not over it. I believe those galloping hoofbeats I heard were the shooter riding away. I also believe he had to be someone on the ranch. Someone who knew about Ross’s rifle and where to find it.”

  “I think you’re right on that count.”

  The waitress returned with plates of sliced roast beef, mashed potatoes with brown gravy and baby English peas. After she refilled their tea glasses and placed a basket of hot rolls on the table, she moved on to another group of customers and the two women began to eat.

  After a few bites, Victoria asked, “Have you been out to the ranch yet to question the men?”

  For some reason a hot blush stole over Isabella’s cheeks. “Uh…yes. Actually, I’m staying out at the ranch. In your old room.”

  The pretty doctor’s eyes widened with complete surprise. “Really? I didn’t know.”

  Isabella tried not to squirm on the bench seat. “I was staying here in Aztec in a motel room. But Ross seemed to think it would make things easier for me to stay on the T Bar K.”

  Victoria was now staring with open disbelief. “Ross invited you? This is a bit of news.”

  As Isabella surveyed the surprise on the doctor’s face, Marina’s words suddenly came back to her. He likes women. But he don’t bring them home. Here to the T Bar K. But she wasn’t one of his “women,” Isabella mentally argued. And after last night, she was even more determined not to be anything more to Ross Ketchum than his lawyer.

  “Uh, yes. Why? Is something wrong?”

  Victoria suddenly began to chuckle with sheer pleasure. “No. Not a thing.”

  Isabella frowned with puzzlement. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but just so we get things straight, your brother doesn’t like me. It’s not what y
ou’re thinking!”

  The doctor’s chuckles stopped, but there was a huge smile on her face as she looked across the table at Isabella. “Oh, I’ll bet he doesn’t like you. I’ll bet the very sight of you does all sorts of things to him.”

  Chapter Five

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Victoria laughed again, then made a negligible wave with her hand. “Forgive me, Bella. I’m not making a joke at your expense. I’m just…amazed, that’s all.”

  She gave Isabella another quick grin and her green eyes twinkled in much the same way Ross’s did.

  “You’d have to know Ross to understand,” she went on before Isabella could think of any sort of sensible response. “He doesn’t like women like you. So it—”

  “What do you mean, women like me?” Isabella swiftly interrupted. “Because I’m Apache?”

  Victoria’s expression was suddenly contrite. “Oh, no! Not at all! I’m talking about you being a career woman.”

  Well, at least he’d been honest when he’d told her that her being a Native American didn’t bother him, Isabella thought. At least that was one thing he didn’t have in common with Winston Jones or Brett Tabor.

  “A career woman?” Isabella asked her. “Does Ross have something against working women? I thought that went out with the dark ages.”

  “Uh—” Victoria paused as though she’d decided she needed to take a moment to choose her words carefully. “He’s not against women working, actually. I think—you’d better get the full story from him. It’s his business, after all, not mine.”

  Isabella couldn’t see herself asking the man about his female preferences. But if the opportunity arose, she might put the question to him.

  With a dismissive wave of her hand, she said, “Forget I even asked the question. I don’t want to pry into your brother’s personal life. I’m not here to do that.”

  Victoria’s brow puckered with confusion. “But, don’t you need to know personal things about him? I mean, someone framed him for murder, or at the very least, attempted murder. If you ask me, that’s getting pretty personal. And for all we know, this thing could have been done because of a woman.”

  Isabella thoughtfully pushed her fork into the mound of mashed potatoes on her plate. “Has your brother made many enemies?”

  “Over women? Or just in general?”

  Isabella sighed. “Let’s start with the women.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’s been plenty.” She shook her head slightly. “But in all fairness, Ross doesn’t go looking for women. He just attracts them. And sometimes he doesn’t know that she’s attached to someone else.”

  Incredulous, Isabella looked up at Victoria. “Doesn’t he ask beforehand?”

  “Of course he does. But he doesn’t always get an honest answer. Not until he gets a visit or a phone call from an angry man.”

  It was no wonder the man shied away from marriage, Isabella thought grimly. “This complicates matters.”

  “In what way?” Victoria wanted to know.

  Isabella leaned her shoulders against the back of the booth. “It widens the possibilities. I’ve been thinking the shooting had to be connected to one of two things—the murdered John Doe or the stolen stallion. Now I have to broaden that prospect to include jealous husbands and boyfriends.”

  Victoria nodded ruefully. “I see what you mean. And it makes Ross sound…well, a bit irresponsible, doesn’t it? But he’s really not that way. He’s a very hard-working, dedicated man.”

  “Yes, I can see that about him.”

  Victoria swallowed several bites of food before she spoke again, and this time her face was reflective. “This is probably going to sound like a poor-little-rich-girl thing, but I’m not sure you understand what it’s like for Ross. He’s not only a physically gorgeous man, but he’s also rich. That means he never knows if it’s him or the money that women are after.”

  “I’m sure there’s a lot of men out there who would like to have Ross’s problem,” Isabella pointed out.

  “That’s true. But money and power are sometimes hard to deal with. Believe me, I know. It kept Jess and I apart for four long years. And, I believe, it’s…isolated Ross in many ways.”

  If Victoria was trying to make her feel sorry for Ross, it wasn’t working. He was not the sort of man who elicited sympathy. “He owns one of the largest, most prestigious ranches in northern New Mexico.”

  Victoria nodded. “And it’s not easy to keep it going, keep it in the black, make sure the hands are happy and willing to do their work. After Hugh was killed, Ross was handed a heavy load.”

  “He could hire a manager rather than do all that work himself,” Isabella suggested. Yet she knew, without Victoria having to tell her, that Ross Ketchum would rather die than have someone else running the T Bar K.

  Victoria responded with a soft laugh. “Are you kidding? Ross is just like our late father, Tucker. There wasn’t anything more important to him than the ranch.”

  In the past few moments, Isabella had become aware that the conversation had taken a personal turn. And she’d not only allowed it to follow that direction, she’d encouraged it. Because the more she learned about Ross Ketchum, she realized, the more she wanted to know.

  “Did Ross and your father get along?”

  A faint smile touched Victoria’s face. “Oh yes. Tucker thought the sun rose and set on Ross. He had two other sons, but Ross was his favorite. Maybe that was because he was his youngest son. Or maybe it was because he saw himself in Ross. Whatever the reason, they were a pair. And even though we all knew it was coming, Ross was devastated when our father died of heart failure.”

  Isabella reached for her tea glass as she tried to push away the image of a grieving Ross. She didn’t like to think he’d ever hurt that much. He was too alive, too vibrant and happy to be forced to feel that much pain.

  “What about your mother? Was Ross close to her?”

  Another faint smile crossed the doctor’s lovely face. “Ross was always respectful with our mother. He loved her. But he was closest to Tucker. After all, they had so much in common—the horses and cattle, the ranch.”

  “I’m sorry,” Isabella apologized sheepishly. “This has nothing to do with the present problem. It’s not like me to veer off the point. I guess staying on the ranch has made me a little intrigued about your family.” And a whole lot intrigued about Ross, she had to admit to herself.

  Victoria studied her closely. “I didn’t find your questions out of line. After all, it’s your job to ask questions. Do you have a large family?”

  Picking up a steak knife, Isabella began to slice off a bite of roast beef. “No. Just a mother, grandfather and godmother.”

  “No siblings?”

  Isabella thought about John and all the times she’d tried to get close to him while the two of them had been growing up. He’d always backed away from her and their mother. He’d never wanted to be a part of the family, and, after a while, Isabella had given up trying to include him in their lives.

  “I have a half brother who lives in California. He’s a doctor, a general practitioner like yourself. But we’re…not all that close.”

  “That’s a shame. I don’t know what I’d do without my brothers. With Hugh gone and Seth living away in Texas, Ross is the sibling I lean on. He and I have always been close. Of course I love Seth, too. It’s just that Ross is always right here and he’d do anything for me.” She put down her fork and looked desperately at Isabella. “You can’t let anything happen to my brother, Isabella.”

  “Don’t worry,” Isabella told Victoria. “So far the sheriff’s department has formally questioned Ross only once. The fact that they haven’t called him in again tells me he’s not their prime suspect or the evidence they have against him is too minor to enable the D.A. to prosecute.”

  Victoria released a small sigh of relief. “I hope things stay that way.”

  “So do I. But if not, I’ll be around to re
present him.”

  To Isabella’s surprise, Victoria reached across the table and warmly covered her hand with hers.

  “And while you’re around,” she said, “you can think of us Ketchums as your family, too.”

  That was exactly what she shouldn’t do, Isabella thought later as she drove back to the T Bar K. It would be a mistake to allow herself to think she could be anything more to the Ketchums than a lawyer. Especially to Ross.

  And she didn’t come to that conclusion just because he was rich and had a fondness for the ladies. In the first place, he wasn’t interested in her. And in the second, she had her own plans. Soon her office building in Dulce would be completed. She’d be moving there to set up her law practice and to make herself available to anyone on the reservation who needed legal representation. Even the ones who couldn’t afford it.

  For years now, ever since she’d been a young girl, that had been her hope and plan. It was the reason she’d worked her way through college and then law school. She wasn’t ready to set those dreams aside for any man. Even Ross Ketchum.

  Back at the ranch, Isabella compiled the notes she’d taken so far about the case. Once that was finished, she changed into a pair of worn blue jeans and a cool cotton blouse.

  Carrying her small notepad with her, she went outside and surveyed the area around the house. Particularly the part of the yard that accessed the sliding glass doors leading into Ross’s bedroom.

  Outside the doors, the ground had been laid in red brick in a ten-by-twelve square. A cushioned lounger and a matching lawn chair shaded by a juniper, were blocked from outside view by several large clumps of blooming sage.

  Isabella directed her gaze to the right, toward the barns and cattle pens. The area of activity was at least fifty to a hundred yards away and could not be seen all that well from this vantage point. If someone had walked or ridden a horse to this side of the house, he more than likely wouldn’t have been seen.