The Rancher's Request

Juliet shook her head. “No. I’m here doing an assignment for the paper.”

“Oh. Then you have to go back to work this evening?”

“For a while.”

The girl’s expression fell flat. “Gee, I was hoping we could go for a soda or something.” She glanced at a big watch on her wrist, then added hopefully, “Daddy won’t be here to pick me up for another thirty minutes.”

Then that meant Juliet had time to be long gone before the man showed up.

“I’m sorry, Gracia, I really need to get back to the office. But if it’s okay with your grandfather, why don’t you walk with me to my car?”

“Well—it’s not like having a soda together,” she said halfheartedly. “But it’s better than nothing.”

In another rush of Spanish, Gracia explained to her grandfather that she would return in a few minutes. Juliet told the older man goodbye and then the two of them left the room.

As they walked down the wide, tiled corridor, Gracia said, “It always makes me sad when I come to visit Grandpa. I want him to get well so he can come home to the ranch. He was my best friend. We rode horses together and he was training a cutter for me so that I could compete. But now—” She broke off with a wistful sigh. “Well—I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

Sadness for the girl filled Juliet’s heart. “There isn’t anyone else on the ranch that could train your horse for you?”

Gracia’s head tilted from one shoulder to the other. “Sure, there is. But it wouldn’t be the same. My grandpa is the best. He trained champions. It’s got to be me and him and Traveler.”

“I understand,” Juliet replied. “And I’ll pray for your grandpa to get well. Sometimes that’s the best medicine of all.”

Gracia’s expression was a mixture of hope and appreciation as she glanced up at Juliet. “That’s what Cook says, too. But I don’t think my daddy believes prayers will do anything. He goes to mass, but he never smiles when he leaves the church. He’s always mad. Guess ’cause Mommy is gone and Grandpa is kinda lost to us, you know.”

Juliet didn’t know what to say. Hearing Gracia’s words had somehow exposed her to Matt Sanchez’s pain and she felt as though she’d stepped onto private ground without an invitation.

Resting a hand on Gracia’s shoulder, she said gently, “Sometimes it’s hard to be happy when things go wrong. That’s when we have to have hope that things will get better.”

Gracia nodded with adultlike understanding. “That’s what I think. I’m going to keep hoping that Grandpa will walk and talk again.” She smiled, then abruptly changed the subject. “Do you live here in town?”

The two of them had reached the main entrance of the building and Juliet pushed open the plate glass door and motioned for Gracia to precede her through it.

Once they were outside, Juliet answered, “Yes, I live on the edge of town in a house on Travis Street. It’s small and old, but I like it. Maybe you can come see it sometime. If you can get permission,” Juliet quickly added. From the bitter remarks Matt had flung at her, she very much doubted he would allow Gracia to visit her, but at least she could let the girl know she was welcome in her home.

“Gee, that would be great. Do you have any pets?”

“A cat. He’s a big, fat Persian and he loves attention.”

Gracia’s brown eyes lit up. “I have a cat, too! Sam’s a Siamese with a crooked tail. He loves to catch birds and Cook has been threatening to put a bell around his neck for killing the mockingbirds that eat at the backyard feeder. She hasn’t, though. Daddy says it’s Sam’s born instinct to catch birds and it wouldn’t be natural to try to stop him. The big prey on the little, that’s what he always says.”

Yeah, Juliet thought dourly. And in his case, she just happened to be the little.

Out in the parking lot of the Sunset Manor, several yards away from Juliet’s car, Matt Sanchez killed the engine to his truck and reached for the door handle at the same time. As usual, he was in a hurry. A cattle buyer was going to meet him at the Sandbur in less than one hour. He was going to have to break the speed limit to make the meeting in time.

He should have asked Cordero to pick up Gracia. In Matt’s opinion, his younger brother didn’t visit their father enough. But Mingo would be expecting his eldest son to show up and Matt didn’t want to disappoint his father. Short visits from friends and family was all the man had to look forward to.

What the hell?

Matt’s hand paused on the door of the truck as his gaze fastened on the woman and girl walking down the steps of the building. It was that Dallas woman with his daughter!

What was she doing here? And why the hell hadn’t she taken heed of the warning to stay away from his family?

Matt’s first instinct was to burst out of the truck and interrupt the little tête-à-tête going on between the newspaperwoman and his daughter, but he desperately quelled the urge. Gracia was just now coming round to him after that incident in the yard on the day of the wedding. He didn’t want to embarrass her again. Juliet Madsen had been right about that and the fact that he’d been thinking more about his own feelings than his daughter’s. It had taken two days of the silent treatment from Gracia to make him admit such a thing to himself, but damned if he would ever apologize to the sexy blonde. She’d probably take pleasure in laughing at him.

Before he knew it, his gaze was traveling up and down her body, appreciating, in spite of himself, the full, luscious curves encased in a black jersey top and a pair of gray slacks. She was not a willowy, fragile woman by any means and he realized her lusty shape did more than stir the man in him. Each time he laid eyes on the woman, he felt an instant fire in his loins. It didn’t make sense. Especially since Erica had died, he’d not even wanted a woman.

But having Juliet against him, even for those few moments, had burned all sorts of distracting impressions into his brain. He could remember the curved indention of her waist, the full press of her breasts and the soft skin exposed by the skimpy dress she’d been wearing. Yet none of those memories were as strong and dangerous as the kiss of her lips. Like a blind man with heightened senses, he had every curve, every scent, every taste detailed in his mind.

Now after three days had passed, he realized it had been a grave mistake to have kissed her. He couldn’t forget. And a part of him didn’t want to.

All sorts of mixed feelings raced through him as he watched Juliet and Gracia exchange a few more words, then Juliet leaned down and pressed a swift kiss on Gracia’s cheek. In turn, his daughter gave her a brief hug, then turned and raced back up the steps and into the building.

The affectionate exchange hurt him in ways he didn’t want to think about. He’d tried so hard to be a good father to Gracia. Especially since she had only one parent. But it seemed as though the more he tried to get close, the further she’d drifted away from him. Maybe it was because she was going to be turning thirteen next week, he reasoned with himself. Teenagers couldn’t be figured out.

With the flick of his wrist, he quickly opened the door and stepped down to the ground. The movement caught Juliet’s attention and she turned where she stood to look in his direction. For a moment her beauty stunned him all over again and he swallowed, a sudden strange thickness in his throat.

He walked over to her.

“Miss Madsen,” he greeted curtly.

“Hello, Mr. Sanchez,” she said.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Smiling wanly, she reached up and captured the blond strands of hair being whipped by the wind. “Yes, it’s a small world.”

Listening to her twangy drawl was like warm pudding slipping over his tongue. Sweet and smooth. “I noticed you just happened to run into my daughter.”

She drew her shoulders back and his eyes promptly fell to her breasts.

“That’s right. I just happened to be here working this afternoon.”

His mouth twisted. “I’ll bet.”

Her eyes narrowed on his chiseled face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

His weight shifted from one boot to the other. “I’m sure you didn’t know my father was a resident here,” he said with just enough sarcasm to send her brows flying upward.

“Actually, I didn’t. I happened to be walking down the hall and saw Gracia.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

Hefting a camera bag higher onto her shoulder, she turned in the direction of her car. “Believe me, Mr. Sanchez, in spite of your enormous ego, I’m not that interested in you or your family. Tell Gracia it was very nice to see her again.”

But not him. She couldn’t have spoken the words more clearly. Matt was wondering why that should bother him when she started striding away from him. Before he could stop himself, he marched after her.

“Where are you going?”