How in blazes could anyone have gone to bed so dirty that they needed that much soap and water?
“By the way,” Barbara said, as she reached into the pantry for a bottle of oil, “your father stayed in one of the cabins last night, but he came through here about thirty minutes ago. It was good to see him again after all these years, but he didn’t stick around long enough to chat. He just grabbed a cup of coffee and went back outside again. He said he was checking things out.”
That’s what he’d said to Tammy yesterday, but she had a feeling it was more likely that he was avoiding the house and everyone in it. But Tammy didn’t see any reason to defend his actions, especially when he’d refused to let her in on any of the details of that family blowup.
“How about some coffee?” Barbara asked as she reached into the cupboard and pulled out a solid white mug.
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
“How do you take it? Black?”
“Cream and sugar, please.”
Barbara chuckled. “I’ll never understand why people insist upon ruining a perfectly good cup of java by watering it down or doctoring it up.”
The thought of doctoring anything, even a cup of coffee, made Tammy think about Mike Sanchez, her grandfather’s personal physician. There was so much she wanted to know about him, although she hated to come right out and ask. After all, she didn’t want anyone to know she was…
Well, she wasn’t sure what to call her curiosity and all those girlish emotions that swirled around it. She supposed she was smitten with him.
Who would have believed it?
Certainly not her father or her older brothers.
Tammy took a seat at the table and watched as Barbara prepared the coffee for her, feeling a bit like a bug on the underside of a log.
When Barbara handed her the coffee, Tammy thanked her, then took the mug, holding it with both hands and watching the steam curl up and over the rim.
Before the silence ate away at her, she asked, “How’s Tex doing this morning?”
“He slept well, or so he said.”
“That’s good to hear.” Tammy tried to think of an easy way to bring up Doc’s name and slide it right into the conversation, but she really couldn’t. So she’d have to work it in. “I was just wondering…I mean, I realize Tex is under a doctor’s care. In fact, I met the guy yesterday, but he seemed kind of…young. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” Barbara stooped, opened a cupboard near the stove and pulled out a big cast-iron skillet. “But he came highly recommended from the hospital where he interned.”
“Do you think he’s…any good?” Tammy waited a beat before tossing out her only real question. “What do you know about him?”
“He’s definitely competent,” Barbara said, “if that’s what you’re talking about.”
No, that wasn’t what Tammy was getting at. She wanted to know more about the man behind the stethoscope. Where did he come from? What did he do for fun?
“For what it’s worth,” Barbara added, “Doc Reynolds wouldn’t have let anyone who didn’t know his stuff cover for him while he’s out getting treatment for his illness.”
Tammy continued to hold her mug with both hands, weighing her words, taking care not to be too obvious. “Is Dr. Sanchez from Buckshot Hills?”
“No, he just moved here a few months ago—maybe four. He’s from someplace back east. Philadelphia, I think.”
Tammy took a lazy sip of coffee, relishing the sweet, creamy taste.
“Buckshot Hills is a far cry from the big city,” she said.
“That’s for sure.” Barbara poured a splash of vegetable oil into the skillet, then turned the flame on low.
“Does he have family out here?” Tammy hoped and prayed that he didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend.
“I don’t think so. But to be honest, I really don’t know much about him, other than Tex likes him, and he visits daily. He also seems to have a good bedside manner.”
The thought of Doc standing at the side of her bed sent Tammy’s thoughts hurtling in a dangerous direction. But before she could quiz the ranch cook any further, footsteps sounded in the doorway.
Tammy looked up to see Jenna entering the kitchen, fresh from the shower, her blond hair brushed in a soft, feminine style.
“Good morning,” Barbara said. “Can I get you some coffee, Jenna? Or maybe some OJ? It’s fresh-squeezed.”
“Orange juice sounds good. Thank you, Barbara.”
Tammy tried not to stare too hard at the willowy woman who was wearing jeans again today—a different pair, since they were a lighter shade of blue than the ones she’d had on yesterday.
“I know the Flying B is a cattle ranch,” Jenna said, “but I noticed quite a few horses in the corral near the barn. Who takes care of them?”
“Last I heard, Caleb Granger.” Barbara poured Jenna a glass of juice, then handed it to her. “Why?”
“No reason.”
Barbara returned her attention to the pancakes cooking in the skillet, as if she’d thought Jenna’s question had come out of the blue. But Tammy suspected there’d been a reason behind it and decided not to let it slip by the wayside.
“Do you like horses?” she asked her cousin.
“Yes, I do. In fact, I’m a certified riding instructor.”
“No kidding?” Tammy sat up straight. Maybe she had more in common with her cousin than she’d thought.
Well, at least they both shared a fondness for horses, ranches and blue jeans.
“Has anything more been said about that family meeting?” Jenna asked.
“Not that I know of.” Barbara used a spatula to remove several pancakes from the skillet. “I’m sure Tex will wait until everyone has arrived.”
“Did my father get here yet?” Jenna asked.
“I haven’t seen him.” Barbara dropped a dollop of batter onto the hot skillet. “How many hotcakes do you girls want?”
“If you don’t mind,” Jenna said, “I’d rather have one of those leftover blueberry muffins and take it with me.”
Take it with her?
“Where are you going?” Tammy asked her cousin.
“Just out for a walk. I’d like to see the ranch.”