His Defender

by Stella Bagwell

  And once he’d taken Ross’s rifle, he would have headed west, away from the ranch, she deduced. Apparently he wasn’t seen. Or if he was, no one on the T Bar K was willing to speak up.

  Slipping the notepad into the back pocket of her jeans, Isabella headed purposely down the hillside to where the cowboys were at work. Maybe if she asked the right questions here and there, she’d glean a few more clues.

  She was at the horse stalls, introducing herself to Linc Ketchum, Ross’s cousin, when her client suddenly came up behind her.

  “What are you doing down here?” he asked abruptly.

  Her lips parted as she turned to face him. “I’m—” she paused as her eyes met his and the memory of their kiss filled her with heat. “I’m trying to find the man who shot your brother-in-law,” she stated bluntly.

  His lips twisted as he inclined his head toward the T Bar K’s head wrangler. “Well, you don’t think it’s Linc here, do you? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless it was irritating one of the horses. The only time Linc ever gets riled is when someone messes with his remuda.”

  Isabella glanced at the quiet man behind her, then back to Ross. “You cousin is not on my lists of suspects. I thought he might have overheard something, someone talking against you, or threatening you perhaps.”

  Ross laughed and Isabella’s jaw tightened. Apparently he still thought this whole thing was funny. Or was this just his way of covering up a deeper worry? she wondered. The notion faded some of her irritation.

  “Linc would be here all night if he told you all the badmouthing he’d ever heard about me. Isn’t that right, Linc?”

  Isabella turned slightly so that she could see the man’s response.

  Linc grinned briefly as his gaze traveled back and forth between Ross and Isabella. “Half the night, at least,” he admitted. “But I haven’t heard anything here lately.”

  “Do the hands like Mr. Ketchum as a boss?” Isabella asked him.

  “Yeah, most of them. There’s a few who gripe about him being a slave driver. Those are the young ones, the ones who come to the ranch with the idea that being a cowboy is a lazy man’s way of making a living. Ross doesn’t waste any time setting them straight on that count.”

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Ross grinning. Obviously he was getting a kick out of his cousin’s observations about him. And obviously the two men were closer than she’d expected them to be.

  Back at the café, before their lunch was over, Victoria had talked a little more about her family and how the ranch had first started out with her father, Tucker, and his brother, Randolf, Linc’s father, having joint ownership. But eventually Randolf had developed heart problems and sold his portion to Tucker. Later, after Randolf passed away, his wife, Darla, headed for the east coast, but young Linc had chosen to stay here on the ranch.

  From what she could see, Linc didn’t seem to harbor any resentment against Ross for being the one who’d eventually wound up with the T Bar K. In fact, she could feel genuine affection flowing between the two men.

  “The evening of the shooting, did you see anyone ride a horse up to the house?” she asked Linc.

  Linc shook his head. “I was here at the stables saddling Victoria’s mare, Dixie. About the time I finished, Jess walked up and the two of them left. By then it was already getting late and I’d had a hard day. I headed to the bunkhouse to eat. If anyone had ridden toward the house, I wouldn’t have seen him.”

  She hid her disappointment. “Well, thank you, Linc. If you do happen to think of anything or overhear anything, please let me know.”

  “I sure will, Ms. Corrales. Now if you two will excuse me, I think I just spotted the farrier driving up.”

  Isabella watched as the head wrangler walked out from beneath the shade of the shed row and headed over to greet a man climbing down from a black-and-gray pickup truck.

  “I think you like my cousin,” Ross said, his voice full of amusement.

  She turned her gaze on him and tried not to think about last night and how it had felt to be crushed against that broad chest of his. “Why do you say that?”

  One corner of his mouth turned upward. “Because you weren’t sniping at him, like you do me.”

  She breathed deeply. “Maybe that’s because he wasn’t insulting me, the way you do.”

  Ross chuckled, then his expression turned sober. “I missed you this morning.”

  The unexpected remark caught Isabella off guard and for a moment, as a warm feeling spread over her, she hardly knew what to say.

  “I don’t get up at four-thirty. That’s still the middle of the night to me.”

  His eyes meandered up and down the length of her. “I would call you a city girl. But you don’t look like one. Not like that.”

  She glanced down at her jeans and boots and pale yellow blouse. “I’m not a city girl. I was raised on the Jicarilla, remember?”

  “You could have lived in town, in Dulce.”

  “Dulce is hardly big enough to call itself a town, much less a city,” she told him. “But that’s beside the point, because my family home is in the foothills. I grew up herding goats and sheep and trying to climb high enough to find a hawk’s nest.”

  “A regular little tomboy, sounds like,” he said, a dimple grooving the side of his mouth. “What, no baby dolls or tea parties?”

  It surprised her that he even knew of the things little girls played and her thoughts went a step further as she imagined what sort of father he might be. Stern, but loving. Somehow she knew that. And somehow she also knew he would think it important to instill deep morals into his children, to motivate and fill them with ambition. But then this man was already thirty-five. He would probably never have children. Not when he was so dead set against marriage.

  “Not really,” she answered. “I just happened to like the outdoors.”

  “What about now?” he asked curiously. “Don’t you want babies, a home and family?”

  She turned away from him as yearnings deep inside pushed their way to the surface of her heart. From the moment she’d learned about Winston Jones, she’d longed for him to be her father, a real father. Not just the man who’d genetically helped to create her. But his refusal to be a part of her life had crushed her. As a young child she hadn’t been able to understand why he hadn’t wanted or loved her. Ultimately, she’d come to the conclusion that something had to be wrong with her. That she wasn’t lovable. Especially to men. Consequently, as the years passed, she’d been very reluctant to try to have any sort of lasting relationship with a man. And then when she had tried with Brett, she’d wound up with nothing but a broken heart.

  “Maybe. Later on,” she said stiffly. “Right now I have my law practice to think of.”

  There was a pause, then he said, “Now why does that not surprise me?”

  His sarcasm caused her to twist her head around to look at him.

  “Am I supposed to understand what that means?” she asked.

  His eyes raked her face in a way that said she was a great disappointment to him. Which didn’t make sense. Whether she wanted a husband and children now or fifteen years from now had nothing to do with him, she thought.

  “You’re a career woman. Women like you always put their job before a husband or children.”

  He doesn’t like women like you.

  Victoria’s words swiftly came back to her and instead of being angry with him, Isabella was too busy putting together the clues of this man’s attitude. He’d been hurt by some woman, she thought with sudden dawning, a woman who’d chosen her career over him. And he believed she was no different. The notion sickened Isabella. Yet at the same time she was amazed that this man had ever cared that much for any woman.

  “I could never do that,” she replied. “I am Apache. Family is more important to me.”

  Suddenly he let out a long breath and the tension around his mouth eased.

  “Forget I said that, Isabella. It was out of line.”

  His
swiftly changing moods perplexed her. They also warned her that there was far more to him than just a handsome face and sexy body.

  Deciding it would be better for both of them if she changed the subject, she told him, “I had lunch with your sister today. She’s a lovely woman.”

  A fond light filled his eyes. “She’s the best. I’m glad to see Sis and Jess finally happy.”

  “She’s very worried for her husband and for you. You were both targeted by the shooting. Just in different ways.”

  He frowned. “Now that Jess has gone back to work, I’m sure Sis is even more worried. But Jess is a lawman through and through. He’ll watch his back.”

  For the first time since she’d taken this job, the very real threat to Ross’s life struck her hard. His work here on the ranch made him a very vulnerable target. If someone really wanted to do him harm, it wouldn’t be difficult. For the most part, Isabella’s task was to make sure the court didn’t wrongly accuse or convict him. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that risk was far less than him being harmed by the evil person lurking about the ranch. And that person was on the ranch. Isabella was feeling more and more sure about that.

  “And what about you?” she asked him. “Are you watching your back?”

  He presented her with a wide grin and Isabella realized he was once again in his laid-back mode.

  “I’m leaving that up to you, Isabella.”

  She tried not to smile. After all, this whole thing was a deadly matter. But he had an infectious charm about him that got to her and she found herself smiling back at him in spite of herself.

  “Looks like I’d better hurry up and find the person who did this. ’Cause I don’t have the time or energy to follow you around all day.”

  Still grinning, he looked out to where Linc and the farrier were examining a hoof on a bay horse.

  “Speaking of following me around, what are you doing for the next couple of hours?”

  Instantly on guard, she studied his profile. “I’ve been trying to organize my notes. I thought I’d look around a little more here at the barns, then go back to the house and try to put together what I have so far.”

  “Forget about that for now. I’m going to ride fence and I thought you might like to come along.”

  His suggestion couldn’t have surprised her more. “Ride? Me?”

  He latched his thumbs over his belt and rocked back on his boot heels. “Yeah, you. Do you know how to ride?”

  “My grandfather owned horses for years. I grew up riding them.”

  Her answer prompted a nod of approval from Ross. “Good. Then I won’t have to give you a quick lesson before we take off.”

  This is not a good idea, she silently warned herself. Last night had already shown her what could happen when she was alone with Ross. But she liked to think she wasn’t totally without self-control. Surely she could keep her distance from the man for two hours.

  “I thought you were a busy man,” she commented.

  “This is work, Isabella. It’s riding an area I covered not too long ago, but it was some of Snip’s favorite stomping ground. I’m hoping there might be a chance he could still be hanging around there. And I thought it would be an opportunity for you to see more of the ranch. That is, if you’d like to see more of it,” he added.

  Why did she get the feeling he was talking about him instead of the ranch? Don’t be stupid, she quickly scolded herself. Ross didn’t have to play subtle games to get a woman to spend time with him. And if he was simply after female company, he wouldn’t be looking to her for it.

  “Sure. It would be nice to see more of the ranch,” she told him. “When did you plan to go?”

  “In about fifteen minutes or so.” His gaze ran up and down the length of her. “You’re already dressed for riding. But you need a hat. Go up to the house and tell Marina to find you one of Victoria’s old ones. Then meet me back down here.”

  Isabella agreed to his plan, then quickly strode off toward the house. Along the way her heart began to sing a happy little tune and, by the time she entered the kitchen in search of Marina, there was a smile on her face.

  “I’m going riding, Marina, and I need a hat. Ross says Victoria has some old ones around here somewhere.”

  From her seat at the long table, Marina looked up from the paperback book she’d been reading. Surprise arched her brows. “You’re going riding? With Ross?”

  Isabella nodded. “He’s hunting his stallion.”

  Marina grunted as she rose to her feet. “Hmph. That horse has caused a lot of trouble around here. Ross needs to forget about him.”

  She motioned for Isabella to follow her to a small mudroom located just off the back of the kitchen. Inside the cluttered space, she went over to a shelf jammed with hats, boots and rain slickers. From the jumbled items, she pulled out a cream-colored hat with a long stampede string made of braided horsehair.

  Marina handed the hat to Isabella. “The brim is a little bent in the back, but it should shade you all right.”

  Isabella pulled the hat down on her head. To her pleasant surprise it fitted, and she smiled as she tightened the stampede string beneath her chin.

  “I’m sure Ross won’t ride fast enough for me to need this,” she said of the string, “but it makes me look like a cowgirl anyway.”

  Marina’s expression softened as she studied the picture Isabella made in the hat. “Ross won’t be looking for his stallion. He’ll be looking at you.”

  Color bloomed in Isabella’s cheeks. “Not really, Marina. From the impression I get, Ross thinks much more of that stallion than he does any woman.”

  Marina made another snort of disapproval. “One of these days that will change.”

  Isabella didn’t think so. Ross Ketchum appeared to be the perfect definition of a confirmed bachelor. But Marina wasn’t a woman to argue with, especially over the Ketchum family, whom she’d known for forty years.

  “I’d better head back to the horse barn. Ross will be waiting for me,” she told the cook.

  The two women left the mudroom, but before Isabella could leave the kitchen, Marina turned a stern eye on her.

  “Where are you going to ride, chica? You’re not going out to that evil place, are you?”

  Not certain she’d heard the older woman right, Isabella repeated, “Evil place?”

  An anxious shadow crossed Marina’s features. “Yes. The place where Jess was shot—the place where that poor soul was found.”

  “Oh. No. Ross didn’t mention anything about going there. Why?”

  Marina shook her head as though she couldn’t believe Isabella had to ask such a question. “Why? Because it’s a dangerous place! You two don’t need to go there. You see what happened to Jess! It could happen to Ross. Or you.”

  Seeing the woman was clearly distressed by the notion, Isabella patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Marina. We’re only going looking for Snip. Not for murder clues.” She smiled softly. “But thank you for being concerned about me.”

  Marina sniffed, then ambled over to the cabinet counter where she’d laid out lard and tortilla flour. “I like you, chica,” she mumbled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

  If Isabella got hurt, it wouldn’t likely be by a killer. It would be by her own foolish behavior. That’s why she couldn’t let her guard down around Ross. Or any man, for that matter.

  Thoughtfully, she walked over to where Marina was measuring out lard into a crock bowl. “Marina, do you have any family around here?”

  Her eyes on her job, Marina shook her head. “Not close family. I had a husband once. But he ran off and left me when things got rough. We had a little girl who got sick and died. After that he didn’t much care if he was around me or not. That was years ago. I don’t think about him anymore. But I think about my little girl. She was pretty and dark like you. And always happy. Always.”

  Isabella’s heart winced at the suffering this woman must have gone through. “I
guess this was all before you came to work for the Ketchums?”

  “Yes. Seth was a baby then. And Hugh was just a little nino. I helped Amelia take care of her boys and that helped me forget.”

  “And you’ve stayed all these years,” Isabella added with quiet contemplation.

  Marina gave her a sidelong glance. “The Ketchums are my family, chica.”

  Isabella would have liked to hear more about the older woman’s life here with the Ketchum family, but she didn’t have time to ask further questions. Not with Ross waiting for her.

  Patting the woman’s shoulder once again, she said, “Don’t worry, I won’t let Ross take me to that bad place.”

  Marina blinked and Isabella was surprised to see a sheen of moisture in her dark eyes.

  “That’s good. ’Cause if there ever was a man who liked to take chances, it’s Ross.”

  By the time Isabella arrived at the barn, Ross had saddled a horse for her. She was a black-and-white spotted mare named Trixie. A sister to Victoria’s mare, Dixie, he informed her.

  The mare was sleek and shiny and possessed a beautiful little face and head. Isabella immediately fell in love with her as she stroked the animal’s velvety nose.

  “She won’t buck, will she?” Isabella asked warily as Ross offered her a hand up in the saddle.

  He shot her a dry look. “Do you honestly think I’d put you on a wild horse?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “You were riding a bronc the first time I ever saw you and you proclaimed him to be one of your finest horses.”

  He chuckled at her reasoning. “Yeah, but that was me. And this is you. I wouldn’t risk that pretty neck of yours. Besides, you can ride Juggler anytime you want. He’d never buck with a woman on him. He has good manners. So does Trixie. I promise.”

  She rolled her eyes, but in actuality his compliment about her being pretty had filled her with a warm flush of pleasure.

  “It won’t take long to see if you’re telling me the truth,” she assured him as she stuck the toe of her boot into the stirrup.

  With Ross’s hand on her left elbow, she grabbed a handful of Trixie’s mane. At the same time, her right hand latched on to the back of the saddle’s seat and pulled.