His Defender

“Yes. But—”

“But nothing,” he countered. “This is where you need to be doing your hunting, Isabella. Not in Aztec.”

Reluctantly, she had to agree that he was right. Staying here on the ranch would make her job far easier and possibly give her some insights into the case that she might not get elsewhere. Besides, it would be foolish to pay a bunch of money for a motel room when this huge house was virtually empty.

“You know, you’re making a good point,” she said after a moment. “And besides, I’ve realized something else.”

“What’s that?” he asked with a smug smile.

“You’re not my type, either.”

The smile on his face deepened and instead of taking hold of her elbow, he curled his arm around the back of her waist.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”

Oh, she was slipping badly, she thought. Not only had the man talked her into staying on his ranch, he’d also managed to turn her knees to rubber. She was going to have to toughen up if she ever expected to survive this job.

Later that evening, Isabella arrived back at the T Bar K with her bags and an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake. The more she’d thought about it these past few hours, the more she’d realized it had been a mistake to accept Ross’s invitation. But it was too late to change things now without looking ungrateful.

Marina met her at the door and the older woman’s smile chased away some of Isabella’s misgivings.

“Do you have more bags?” she asked, inclining her head to the three nylon duffel bags on the porch floor. “I’ll get one of the men to help you.”

“No. This is it, Marina. If you’ll just show me where to take them, I can manage.”

Marina bent down and picked up two of the bags. “You get that one, chica, and follow me,” she ordered.

Isabella stepped into the house behind the cook and followed her through the massive living area, then down a wide hallway similar to the one that had led to Ross’s room, only this corridor lay in an opposite direction.

“This is where you stay,” Marina told her as she pushed open a door to her right. “This was Victoria’s room. Pretty, no?”

It was a beautiful room filled with varnished pine furniture and decorated in shades of pink, beige and white. Sliding glass doors looked toward the west and a wide mesa filled with gray and purple sage, tall yucca and an occasional sphere of red rock.

“This is absolutely lovely, Marina. Much better than a motel room.”

The woman dropped Isabella’s bags onto the queen-size bed. “I’m glad you like it. And I’m glad you come.”

Isabella cast the woman a gentle smile. “I’m not sure Ross would have invited me if you hadn’t brought up the subject.”

Marina shrugged one thick shoulder. “Ross don’t think. He’s too busy buying and selling cattle and horses. He don’t think about women. Not like he should.”

It was clear the T Bar K cook wasn’t regarding her as Ross’s lawyer, but as a romantic diversion. Isabella silently let out a weary sigh.

“What do you mean? Does Ross not have anything to do with women?” The question seemed ludicrous. Especially when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her and everything out of his mouth intimated at something sexual.

The other woman frowned. “Oh, he likes women. Too much. He goes out and has his fun. But he don’t bring them home here to the T Bar K.”

Isabella dropped the bag she was carrying onto the bed with the other two and unzipped it. “Well, that’s probably because he’s not serious about them.”

“Serious?” Marina made a noise somewhere between a snort and a cackle. “Ross is never serious about a woman. He thinks it’s enough to take them places and buy them things. He don’t care if he breaks a heart. ’Cause he don’t feel anything in here.”

Isabella watched Marina’s large hand press against her ample bosom. “That’s a sad thing to say, Marina.”

“Sad but true,” Marina retorted. “I tell Ross that someday he will ache for love. But by then he will be like his daddy. He won’t have anybody. Unless he change.”

Feeling a little uncomfortable with Marina’s personal exposé of Ross, Isabella cleared her throat. “Well, right now I’ve got to keep the man from going to jail.”

Marina’s hand moved from the region of her heart to her wrinkled forehead, as though a picture was turning in her mind. “This is bad, Isabella. There is an evil one on the ranch.”

Isabella unzipped the remainder of her bags and pulled out a stack of underclothes from one of them. As she carried them to a nearby dresser, she asked, “What do you know about the shooting?”

“Nothing. Except I told Victoria not to go to the arroyo that evening. I told her that place was bad. Someone would be hurt. But her and Jess went anyway.”

It didn’t surprise Isabella to hear that Marina had been spouting warnings and prophecies. As Naomi’s goddaughter, she’d heard all sorts of visions and predictions. Surprisingly most came true, but there were times nothing happened. Too bad that hadn’t been the case when Victoria and Jess had ridden out to the arroyo.

Placing her things in one of the drawers, Isabella went back to the bed for another armload. “Was Ross aware that the two of them were headed out to the arroyo?”

Marina pondered for a moment, then shook her head. “Ross was gone from the ranch, I think, when Victoria and Jess rode off. He’d been out hunting Snip.”

“But do you know if someone had told him beforehand where his sister and brother-in-law were going?” Isabella persisted.

Marina frowned as she weighed Isabella’s question. “Could be. There’s plenty of men down at the barn to tell him things.”

“That’s true.” She glanced thoughtfully at Marina. “Just how did Ross feel about Jess at the time of the shooting?”

Marina glanced regretfully toward the sliding glass doors. “He didn’t like Jess. ’Cause he thought he’d done his sister wrong. But he didn’t shoot him, chica.”

Isabella smiled. It was more than obvious that Ross held a very special place in Marina’s heart. “No. I’m sure he didn’t.”

The cook suddenly reached out and patted Isabella’s shoulder. “You’re gonna fix things for Ross. And then we’ll all be glad.”

It felt nice for someone to have confidence in her, but it also weighed her with a heavy responsibility. Ross might not think he was in a sticky situation, but from what Neal had told her, the rest of the Ketchum family was very worried. They were depending on her to keep Ross out of jail.

“I hope you’re right, Marina.”

The older woman smiled with confidence as she headed toward the door. “You finish unpacking. Supper will be soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Isabella was in the living room, studying what she assumed to be a family photo when Ross walked up behind her. The faint scent of musky cologne mixed with another scent, which she’d come to recognize as uniquely his, drifted to her nostrils and warned her that his muscular body was only inches away.

“That was when my older brother Hugh was still alive,” he said quietly.

Isabella bent at the waist to look more closely at the framed picture resting on a small end table. Three men were standing next to a wooden corral. All of them were rigged out in boots and chaps and hats. All were dark-haired, muscular and ruggedly handsome. No doubt Tucker Ketchum and his wife Amelia had been proud of their three sons.

“Which one is Hugh?” she asked.

“The one on the left. I don’t know if anyone told you, but he was gored to death by a bull about six years ago.”

Isabella nodded. “Neal mentioned it. Hugh’s widow, Maggie, lives here on T Bar K property, doesn’t she? I think you said something about your nephew living nearby.”