by Judy Duarte
The white-haired old rancher shifted his weight in the bed, as if trying to find a more comfortable spot. Then he grimaced, suggesting the move hadn’t helped much.
As he settled back on the pillows propping him up, he said, “My boys and grandchildren agreed to come home. Did I tell you that, Doc?”
“You’d mentioned extending the invitation to them.”
Tex closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I wasn’t sure what they’d tell me. That blasted feud had gone on for so damn long, I figured they might not give a rip about me or the Flying B.”
“For what it’s worth,” Mike said, “I think one of them just arrived.”
A smile stretched across the old man’s craggy face, softening the age lines and providing a hint of color to his wan complexion. “Oh, yeah? Who’d you see?”
“I’m not sure. A girl—or rather a woman, I guess. She’s probably about twenty, with long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail of some kind. She was driving a little white pickup.”
“Was she all dolled up like a city girl? Or wearing pants like a tomboy?”
“She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. And she had on a pair of worn denim jeans and a blue flannel shirt.”
“Then that must be Tammy,” Tex said, his tired gray eyes lighting up. “She’s William’s girl. And quite the cowboy, I hear. She can outride, outrope and outspit the best of ’em.”
Mike wouldn’t know about that. The girl certainly appeared to be a tomboy, but she was also petite. He wasn’t sure if she could hold her own or not.
“I thought you told me that you’d never met your grandchildren,” Mike said.
The old man gave a single shrug. “I’ve seen pictures of them. But only because I hired a private investigator a few years back. And now...” He lifted an aged, work-roughened, liver-spotted hand and plopped it down on the mattress. “I’m glad that I did. It would have been tough finding them all with only a short time to do it.”
Tex only had a few weeks left to live, although it was always hard to guess just how long for sure. The rancher was a tough old bird. And he might just will himself to stay alive long enough to put his family back together again.
From what Mike had heard, there’d been some huge family blowup over thirty years ago. Both of Tex’s boys had taken off in anger, leaving the Flying B and Buckshot Hills far behind. But no one seemed to know any more details than that. And Doc didn’t plan to stick around any longer than he had to, so none of it really mattered to him.
Tex took a deep, weary breath, then slowly let it out. He’d be needing oxygen soon, so Mike would place the order so it would be on hand.
“You know,” the old man said, “I wasn’t happy about switching doctors. I’d hoped Doc Reynolds would be back in Buckshot Hills by now. But you seem to know your stuff—at least, for a young fellow fresh out of medical school.”
Mike never planned to fill in for the local doctor who was being treated for a brain tumor in Boston. But then again, Mike had a debt to repay. And spending six to nine months in Podunk, Texas, appeared to be the only way he could do that.
Practicing medicine—or rather, “doctoring folks”—was a heck of a lot different in a small town than it was in the city, but he was learning the ropes and doing the best he could do without the high-tech labs and specialty hospitals nearby. And after nearly four months in Buckshot Hills, he was counting down the days until he could return to Philadelphia.
Mike had grown up there, and his mom still worked as a housekeeper for George Ballard, a very wealthy businessman, a widower who’d never had children. George had taken a liking to Mike’s mom. Not in a romantic sense, but he’d come to respect her work ethic, her integrity and her loyalty. And that had led to yearly bonuses and unexpected paid vacations.
When George had learned that Mike had been accepted to medical school, he’d offered to foot the bill.
It had been a generous offer, an amazing one. And Mike had vowed to pay him back. But George wouldn’t consider it. Instead, he’d said, “If I ever have need of a personal physician, I’ll expect you to drop everything and come to my aid.”
Of course, Mike had readily agreed, although he hadn’t realized how serious the guy had been about the terms of the debt. Or that his benefactor would eventually become romantically involved with a woman whose beloved uncle, Stanley Reynolds, was an ailing country doctor in Texas.
Without the new treatment for a brain tumor that was only available at a specialized clinic on the east coast, Dr. Reynolds would die. But he’d refused to leave his patients in Buckshot Hills without medical care for the extended period of time his treatment was expected to take.
So George had called in the favor, asking Mike to spend the first six months after his residency covering for Dr. Reynolds.
While disappointed at the assignment—after all, Buckshot Hills was a far cry from the city life he loved or the plans and dreams he’d made—Mike had agreed. He just hoped that, when his debt had been paid, the offer he’d received from a top-notch medical group in Philadelphia would still be available to him.
But he supposed he shouldn’t complain. A lot of doctors were strapped with huge student loans, and he wasn’t.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Tex said. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, but not until late afternoon or early evening.” Mike reached out a hand to his patient, leaving him with a parting shake. “Call me if you need anything between now and then.”
“Will do. Thanks, Doc.”
As Mike left Tex, he headed down the hall past several bedrooms that had been prepared for the Byrd homecoming. As he made his way to the living room, he spotted Tex’s granddaughter seated on the leather sofa. He’d pretty much passed over her earlier, so he decided to make an effort to be more polite before he left.
“Tammy?” he asked.
Her lips parted, and her eyes, the color of the summer sky, widened. “Yes?”
He reached out a hand to greet her. “We weren’t introduced earlier. But I’m Dr. Mike Sanchez, your grandfather’s physician.”
She stood, brushed her hand against her denim-clad hip then gave him a customary shake. Her grip held a surprising strength for a petite woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Doc.”
Tex had called her a tomboy, and he’d had that right, although cowgirl seemed more like it. Either way, she certainly didn’t put much stock in lotions, makeup or perfume. He caught the clean scent of bar soap and shampoo, but the fragrance was more generic than anything.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“About the same as yesterday. He tires easily. And he’s uncomfortable at times.”
She nodded, as if trying to take it all in, to make sense of the cancer that had consumed his once strong body.
According to what Tex had told Mike, he’d never met his grandchildren. So he wondered how they’d taken the news of his terminal illness. Did they grieve for what they could have had, if the family hadn’t been prone to holding grudges?
Or were they more interested in an inheritance?
He supposed it didn’t matter. It really wasn’t any of his business. He was just here to make sure Tex was as comfortable as he could be.
“It was nice of you to drive out here to see him,” Tammy said. “Our doctor back in Weldon makes us come to his office in town. In fact, most of us learned how to do a lot of the doctoring ourselves, just so we didn’t have to drive twenty miles.”
Mike hadn’t planned to make house calls, as was the custom of the doctor before him. But he made an exception for a couple of patients, including Tex Byrd, who’d refused to be hospitalized in Granite Falls, a larger town about thirty miles away.
“Your grandfather is a stubborn man,” Mike said. “He wouldn’t have any medical care at all if I didn’t make the trip out
here.”
Mike had also promised Stanley Reynolds that he’d look over his patients as if they were Mike’s own family members—an agreement he’d made as part of the debt repayment plan.
So here he was.
Tammy bit down on her bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What’s he like?” Her eyes were an almost dazzling shade of blue. And the way she was looking at him right now, as if he held all the answers she’d ever need, was a little humbling.
Mike reminded himself that she’d never met the man and that her curiosity was to be expected. So he told her what he knew—or what he’d heard. “He’s a hard worker. And as honest as the day is long. He’s a bit testy, though. Rumor has it he’s been that way for years.”
Tex, who was in his late seventies, was actually one of the most ornery, cantankerous old men Mike had ever met. But he was also a real hoot at times, and Mike couldn’t help admiring him for a lot of reasons—his work ethic, his gumption and his desperate efforts to bring his family home before his death.
“He’s a good man,” Mike added. “One you can be proud of. He’s also well-respected in the community.”
“Thanks. I’m...” She bit down on her bottom lip again, then looked up at him with those amazing eyes. “Well, I guess you could say I’m a bit nervous.”
“That’s understandable.”
She straightened, drawing herself up to her full height, which couldn’t be much more than five feet. “I don’t usually admit stuff like that, but you being a doctor and all...” Her cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink, which was at odds with the masculine clothing she wore and her tough-guy stance.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Mike said. Then he gave her a little wink and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s probably only fair to tell you that I think your grandpa is a little nervous about meeting you, too.”
She smiled and blinked—once, twice, a third time.
If Mike didn’t know better, he’d think she was giving him one of those flirty southern-belle eye flutters. But it couldn’t be that. Maybe she was blinking back tears.
She might have even gotten a speck of dust or something in her eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I...uh...” She swiped her hand across one eye, rubbing it. “I’m fine. It was just a stray lash. That’s all.”
At that moment, Tina returned to the living room carrying a mug and a blueberry muffin balanced on a small plate. “You’re not leaving, are you, Doc?”
“I have to get back to the office. I also have a couple more patients to see on the way, too.”
Tina handed the cup and plate to him. “Then why don’t you take this with you?”
“Thanks.” He took the coffee and muffin. “I’ll bring back the dishes when I return.”
“Are you coming back tomorrow?” the housekeeper asked.
“Yes, but probably not until the dinner hour. I hope that’ll be all right.”
“No problem whatsoever,” Tina said. “We’re just glad that you’re willing to drive out here to see Tex. I’ll let Barbara know to set an extra plate at the table.”
Mike thanked her, then turned to Tammy. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Same here.” Her gaze snared his, as if she’d set her sights on him and wasn’t about to let go.
He could be wrong about that, though. And he certainly hoped that he was. All he needed was for his patient’s granddaughter to start crushing on him.
Little Tammy Byrd might have the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, but Mike wasn’t interested in romance—especially in a place like Buckshot Hills. And even if by some strange twist of Fate he got involved with one of the local women, it sure as hell wouldn’t be a cowgirl.
Chapter Two
As Dr. Sanchez left the house, Tammy watched him go.
Darn it! Clearly, her attempts at flirting had failed yet again. What was she doing wrong?
“Can I get you something to drink, Miss Byrd? Coffee’s fresh. We also have some lemonade or ice tea.”
Tammy turned to Tina, the housekeeper, who’d shown her to the guestroom in which she’d be staying and must have been waiting for her to settle in and then return to the main part of the house.
“Lemonade sounds great,” Tammy said. “Thank you.”
The woman nodded, then left Tammy alone in the spacious living room.
So now what? Should she sit down on the leather sofa again? Or would she be out of line if she wandered around the room, checking out the furnishings and trying to get a handle on the old man who called the Flying B home?
As Tina’s footsteps faded into silence, Tammy crossed the room to the bay window and peered outside, beyond the porch, to see if anyone else had arrived while she’d been putting away her things in the bedroom she’d been assigned.
The Dodge Ram was gone, of course, which was too bad. She would have liked spending some time with Doc and getting to know him a little better.
She’d expected to meet a bunch of new family members, each one bringing a unique personality and mindset to the mix. But she hadn’t been prepared to run in to the handsome doctor making a house call.
Boy howdy, was Doc Sanchez a sight for sore eyes.
When he’d finally introduced himself, a rush of hormones had slammed into her, taking her breath away. She’d never felt anything like it. Even if she let her thoughts roll all the way back to grade school, when the kids teased her and called her Tam-boy, she couldn’t come up with a single fellow who’d set her heart on end.
Yet in one brief moment, Mike Sanchez, also known as Doc, had swept her off her booted little feet.
At least, that’s what it felt like to a woman inexperienced in that sort of thing. And to be honest, it left her a little unbalanced.
Tammy didn’t get flustered too easily, since she usually kept to herself and didn’t pay any mind to mingling, or cultivating new relationships—male or female. And there was a good reason for it, too. Women didn’t seem to find her worth talking to, and men never took her seriously until she showed them her mettle.
But meeting Doc had her reevaluating a few things she’d once thought were carved in stone. It also had her doing things she’d never expected to do—like trying to let him know that she was sweet on him, although it hadn’t worked out too well.
Why in Sam Hill had she tried to flutter her lashes at him?
Talk about awkward and out-of-step.
When Doc had asked if she was okay, her cheeks had burned as hot as the asphalt at high noon in mid-August, and she hadn’t known quite what to say or how to recover her pride.
After that disappointing experience in high school, she’d quit trying to get a guy’s attention—well, not unless she was trying to outdo him at something. And meeting Doc, feeling that rush of hormones, hadn’t been one of those times.
When it was all said and done, she doubted she could best him at anything. Or if she’d even want to.
“Here you go,” Tina said, offering Tammy a glass of lemonade and a napkin to go with it.
“Thank you.”
“I know you’re probably interested in meeting your grandfather, but he just had his medication. I checked on him a few moments ago, and he’s asleep.”
“That’s okay. I can wait.”
Tina clasped her hands in front of her. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?”
“No, ma’am. I’m good.”
Tina nodded, then turned and walked away—heading to the kitchen, Tammy guessed. And that was fine with her. She didn’t like making small talk with people she didn’t know. So she used the time to study the brightly colored southwestern artwork hanging on the walls and to check out the various sculptures and knickknacks tha
t adorned the built-in bookshelf to the right of the hearth.
All the while, she sipped her lemonade, drinking it down. Boy, did that hit the spot.
When she’d finished it, she glanced at the empty glass, wondering what she ought to do with it. Maybe she should return it to the kitchen. So she crossed the living room, heading in the same direction Tina had gone.
As she neared a doorway, the sound of whispers caused her to pause. She listened, overhearing the housekeeper say something about the “family rift.”
Unable to help herself, she stepped aside and leaned against the wall, next to the doorjamb.
“To tell you the truth,” Tina said, her voice low, “I’d given up thinking either of those boys would ever return to the Flying B.”
“I know what you mean,” the other woman said. “After nearly thirty-five years, there’s been too much water under the bridge.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll never forget the day it happened. The awful words they said to each other. The anger...” Tina clicked her tongue.
Tammy stood still, not daring to go closer, not wanting to stop the conversation from unfolding.
“Poor Tex,” the other woman said. “All the family he had left in the world was those two boys. And to think that they would both run off and leave him like that.”
But why? Tammy wondered. Her father had never said, other than to imply there was bad blood between them.
“At least they both came back before it was too late,” Tina added.
“They haven’t returned yet. And after being so stubborn for so long, I suppose anything could happen.”
Tammy’s father had told her he would arrive at the ranch late this afternoon. He wouldn’t back out now, would he?
She leaned closer to the open doorway, trying her best to hear more, to learn more.
Her father and her uncle had been at odds with each other and with Grandpa Byrd, too, which was why she’d never met her other family members. But she’d never heard any of the details. In fact, up until today, she’d never cared enough to ask.
