Читать книгу His Defender - Stella Bagwell - Страница 10

An hour and a half later, Isabella parked her car in front of a small frame house shaded by a huge ponderosa pine and an ancient cottonwood. On fifty acres of red, rocky land, the Corrales homestead was situated at the edge of a wide arroyo and hidden from the nearest neighbors three miles away.

Outside her car, Isabella breathed in the familiar scents of pine, juniper and sage as her gaze swept to the far north where the high, snow-capped peaks of the San Juan Mountains were visible, then to the south, where the landscape swept away to rocky red buttes and wide-open mesas.

For the past thirty-five years her mother had lived in this same spot. And throughout Isabella’s childhood this tough land had been her magical playground. Unlike her half-brother John, who’d constantly hounded their mother to drive him in to Dulce for what little entertainment there was to be had there, Isabella had loved the outdoors and had spent her time with the neighbors’ grazing sheep and climbing the nearby rocky bluffs.

Sighing with fond memories, she turned and walked toward the house. She was near the front steps when a black mongrel dog ran up behind her and barked.

Whirling around, she looked down to see Duke scurrying toward her. His happy whines and furiously wagging tail elicited a fond laugh from Isabella. No matter how long she stayed away from her home on the reservation, Duke never forgot her.

Squatting on her heels, she hugged the dog’s neck and stroked his graying muzzle.

“Hello, my old buddy,” she spoke softly to the dog. “How is Duke? Hmm?”

“He’s a happy dog now that you’re here.”

The spoken words brought Isabella’s head up to see her mother standing in the open door of the house.

Alona Corrales was a young forty-eight. Slim and tall, her black hair was threaded faintly with gray at the temples and worn in a long braid against her back. Her gentle brown features were still smooth and lovely. Each time Isabella looked at her mother or even thought of her, she felt immense pride and love.

“Mother!”

Rising from the dog, she ran the last remaining steps to the doorway and threw her arms around her mother.

Laughing softly, Alona hugged her daughter close to her breast. “You didn’t tell me you were coming today! This is a wonderful surprise!”

“I finished my business earlier than expected today. And I couldn’t wait to come home,” Isabella explained.

Alona put her daughter aside and gave her a beaming smile. “I’m so glad. But I wasn’t expecting you for a few more days.”

“Well, I can only stay for tonight,” she warned as she followed Alona into the modest house.

“Then we won’t waste a minute. Come with me to the kitchen. I was just finishing up some strawberry preserves when I heard Duke bark. You can have a glass of iced tea while I work.”

“Sounds great,” Isabella said as the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

Inside the small, cozy room, Alona went directly to the stove and stirred the contents of a huge metal pot with a wooden spoon. Isabella opened the white metal cabinets where the glasses were stored.

“Do you want a glass, too?” she asked her mother.

“Please. It’s getting hot in here from all this cooking.”

While Isabella filled the glasses with ice and located the pitcher of tea, she said, “You should get air-conditioning, Mother.”

“To use only two months out of the year? The cost is too much.”

After adding sugar to both glasses, Isabella carried the drinks over to a small chrome-and-red Formica table.

“I would help you with the cost.”

Alona shook her head as she lifted the pot from the gas burner and began to pour the cooked strawberries into small mason jars that were sitting in neat rows on a nearby countertop.

“You have enough expenses of your own right now to worry about helping me. By the way,” she added as she concentrated on filling the jars, “I went by your office site this morning. The carpenters are getting up the framework. The one in charge told me they should have the outside completed by the end of the month. That is, if the weather holds fair.”

Isabella eased down in one of the dinette chairs and kicked off her high heels. As she massaged her feet, she said, “I drove through Dulce before I came out here. I wanted to see for myself just what the carpenters had been doing. When I look at how much more there is to do, it feels like the whole thing is going at a snail’s pace. I’m beginning to wonder if I should have simply rented a building.”

“You tried, remember? There wasn’t anything vacant that would have been appropriate for a law office. And besides, renting is like throwing money out the window.”

Isabella smiled faintly as Alona placed the dirty pot in a sink filled with soapy water.

“I am renting a house, Mother.”

Frowning, Alona began to tighten the lids on the jars. “Only because you refused to live here with me.”

Picking up her tea, Isabella took a grateful swallow before she replied to her mother’s comment. “Mother, we’ve been all through this before. I love you very much, but we shouldn’t live together. We both need our privacy, and I would drive you crazy with my messiness. And anyway, it will be nice to live only a few blocks from where I’ll be working. I won’t have to get up early and make a long drive.”

“Maybe so,” Alona reluctantly agreed. She left the cabinet counter and joined Isabella at the table. “And I can’t gripe,” she went on. “Not when I’m so happy that you’re finally back on the reservation. These years you’ve been away getting your degree and working have been lonely for me.”

Even though Isabella’s life had been very busy the past few years, she’d been lonely, too. Friends were not the same as family. And the bustling city of Las Cruces was not the same as this land that was her home.

“You haven’t heard from John?” she asked.

Alona’s expression was suddenly shuttered as she sank into a chair across from her daughter. “Not in a couple of months.”

Isabella felt a spurt of disgust. As soon as her brother had graduated high school more than fifteen years ago, he’d left the reservation for better things. She couldn’t exactly fault him for that. She’d had to go away for a while, too, to get her education. But during that period she had continually visited her mother on a regular basis. John returned home only once or twice a year and even then it was only to stay for a few hours.

“Sometimes I think he’s ashamed to be Apache,” Isabella said with disgust. “He acts like it dirties him to come home to the reservation.”

A pained expression crossed Alona’s face. “Bella, that’s an awful thing to say of your brother!”

Isabella made a palms-up gesture. “You don’t see him around here, do you? He’s a smart man. A doctor! He could be here helping his people. Instead he’s living in California where he can make lots of money.”

Alona sighed. “It’s true John isn’t happy here. But I’m not so sure it has anything to do with money. I think it’s because of his father and how he was killed.”

Isabella snorted. “Thousands of people have lost loved ones to a drunk driver. John is no different. And that happened thirty years ago! John was only a baby. He didn’t even know his father.”

“And you never knew yours,” Alona added regretfully. “Both of my children were raised without fathers.” A wistful look filled her eyes. “That’s not what I would have chosen for either of you.”

Alona’s husband and John’s father, Lee, had been killed when John was only two years old. Some time afterwards, Alona had become involved with Isabella’s father, a rich, prominent white man, who’d refused, even until his death, to acknowledge his half-Apache daughter. Alona rarely ever brought up the subjects of Lee Corrales or Winston Jones. Isabella wasn’t exactly sure why her mother had mentioned the two men today.

“Oh Mother, you’ve done your very best with me and John. And you’re a good example of the fact that a woman doesn’t need a man to survive.”

Alona shot her daughter a reproving look. “Bella, I haven’t chosen to be single all these years. I would have preferred to have a man at my side. But good men are hard to find.”

“Amen to that,” Isabella said with conviction before she tilted the glass of tea to her lips.

Alona rolled her dark eyes. “I guess this means you’re not seeing Brett anymore.”

Shaking her head, Isabella stirred the sugar up from the bottom of her glass. Thank goodness she hadn’t been foolish enough to fall in love with the Dona Ana deputy before she’d learned exactly how he felt about her plans to return to the reservation.

There’s no way I’d bury myself in some dirty, dusty little town filled with nothing but Indians.

Months had passed since she’d broken their relationship, but his words still haunted and sickened her. She was half-Indian, she’d reminded him. But he’d argued it wasn’t the same. She was a civilized Apache. She was educated. She knew more about life than just raising goats and drinking whiskey.

Shaking away the awful memory, she said, “He was just a friend, Mother. And now that I’ve left Las Cruces, I doubt I’ll ever talk to him again.”

Alona made a tsking noise of disapproval. “A beautiful woman like you without a man. It’s indecent.”

Isabella wrinkled her nose playfully at her mother. Alona could pass for thirty-five and when the two of them were out together she turned as many male heads as Isabella. “I could say the same thing about you.”

Alona chuckled. “Don’t try being a lawyer and twisting my words back at me.”

“But I am a lawyer,” Isabella pointed out. “And that’s what keeps me happy. I don’t need a man hanging around me, trying his best to break my heart.”

Sighing, Alona folded her fingers together and rested them on the tabletop. “So tell me about this new case you’ve taken on. I take it that’s why you can only stay one night?”

Isabella reached back and pulled the beaded barrette from her hair. Once the shiny black strands were loose, she twisted the whole lot into a bun at the back of her head and refastened it with the barrette. The cool air blowing through the open window felt good against her bared neck.

“That’s right. I’ve got to be back at the T Bar K by tomorrow afternoon.”

Concern suddenly shadowed Alona’s dark eyes. “I’ve heard about that ranch before. It’s enormous and those people who own it are rich. They also have a reputation for being rough.”

Ross Ketchum’s outward appearance might be described as rough. He was certainly a physical man. But Isabella figured if she looked beneath the chaps and spurs and battered cowboy hat, she’d find he was as slick as a snake and more clever than a wily coyote.

“Neal assures me that the Ketchum family is upright. Otherwise, I would have never agreed to help Ross.”

Alona’s eyes narrowed as she studied her daughter. “Have you met this man yet?”

She’d more than met Ross Ketchum, Isabella thought. She’d collided with the man. All through her drive here to the reservation, he’d pestered her thoughts. And she had to admit, if only to herself, that she’d never encountered anyone like him.

“Yes. Today.”

Alona sighed. “Well, I understand that once you decided to become a defense attorney, you’d eventually be rubbing elbows with all sorts of people. I guess I just didn’t expect you to jump feetfirst into a murder case.”

Isabella smiled. It wasn’t like her mother to dramatize anything. “It’s attempted murder, Mother.”

“Yes, but I hear that a dead man was found on the T Bar K about a month ago. And they’re saying his death was a murder.”

“It’s amazing how news travels,” Isabella remarked with dismay. “Especially bad news.”

“I saw it on the Farmington evening newscast.”

There wasn’t any point in trying to hide the disturbing information from Alona. Especially when it was already being spread through the media. “Okay, you heard right,” Isabella admitted. “But the specifics of that case haven’t been made privy to me yet. And anyway, I’m not at all certain that the under-sheriff’s shooting has any connection to the homicide.”

Alona looked completely befuddled. “How can you say that? It looks pretty obvious to me that the incidents are connected.”

“Sometimes things are too obvious, Mother. That’s why I plan to do a lot of investigating. To see what’s hidden underneath all that obvious stuff.”

“What is this Ketchum man like?” Alona asked curiously.

Isabella drummed her fingers on the tabletop. She wasn’t about to let her mother know the man had left her trembling, literally. Alona would take the tidbit of information and run with it in all the wrong directions. For years now her mother had wanted her to get married and produce a brood of children.

Shrugging one shoulder, she said, “Oh, he was nothing special. Just a typical cowboy.”

Alona eyed her skeptically. “Is that why you’re all dressed up today? Because you met with this typical cowboy?”

Isabella glanced down at her dress. At least she’d managed to brush away the specks of dirt that had flown up from the hooves of Ross’s horse once she’d gotten back into the car.

“I’m an attorney, Mother,” Isabella said primly. “I have to dress accordingly.”

A wide smile spread across Alona’s face. “Of course you do. And I’m sure that typical cowboy thought you were very beautiful.”

Had he? Isabella wondered. He’d called her beautiful, but he’d probably mouthed those words to dozens of women. Especially when he wanted one to agree to his terms.

“Ross Ketchum doesn’t care what I look like. In fact, I had to do some fast talking just to hold on to this job.” Quickly, before her mother could say any more, Isabella rose to her feet. “I’m going to get my things from the car and change clothes. I thought I might drive over and see Naomi before dark. Want to come along with me?”

“I’d love to.” Rising to her feet, Alona walked over to the sink full of dirty dishes. “I’ll finish up here while you’re getting ready.”

Isabella started out of the kitchen, then paused at the door to look thoughtfully back at her mother. “Do you think we should call and warn her that we’re coming?”

Alona laughed. “Knowing Naomi, she’s already sensed that we’re headed her way.”

Isabella’s godmother considered herself a medicine woman. And at seventy-five, she wasn’t going to hear differently from Isabella. Besides, she loved hearing the older woman’s stories and chants. A godmother was a very important role model to a young Apache girl and Naomi had always been there to give Isabella support and advice. She’d been the primary attendant at Isabella’s Sunrise Ceremony, an arduous four days of prayers, chants and dancing that young Apache girls go through as they enter womanhood. Since then, Naomi had taught her about many things, especially courage and tenacity—two things she fully expected to need when she dealt with Ross Ketchum.

The next afternoon Ross was in the T Bar K study, growling into the phone as he waited for his new attorney to arrive. “Neal, if I had one good excuse to drive into town, I would. Just to kick your ass.”

Laughter came back in Ross’s ear. “You might try it, buddy. But I doubt you’d get it done.”

Ross chuckled as he leaned back in the chair and propped his boots on one corner of the polished oak desk.

“You’d have a hell of a time stopping me,” he told his friend.

“So what are you all revved up about this afternoon?” Neal asked. “You should be out selling cattle instead of sitting inside on the telephone.”

Normally, Ross was never inside the ranch house at this time of day. There were always plenty of things to be done at the barns or out on the range. It was spring and Linc was working overtime breeding the broodmares. His cousin could have used his help this afternoon. Instead, he was here in the study waiting on Isabella Corrales.

“Oh, I don’t expect you have any idea what I’m doing, do you?” he drawled sarcastically. “You’re the one who sicced Ms. Corrales on me yesterday.”

There was a long pause before Neal said, “You told me you were going to get rid of her.”

“Damn it! I tried.”

“Apparently you didn’t try hard enough.”

The smile he heard in Neal’s voice galled Ross to no end. “She insisted that I need her,” Ross muttered. “I need her like I need a new pair of spurs!”

“Running low on spurs, are you?”

Ross lifted his green eyes to the beamed ceiling of the study. “Hell, no! I’ve got at least twenty pairs.”

“About the same amount as you have women,” Neal mused aloud. “Well, one more shouldn’t hurt you.”

Jerking his boots off the desk, Ross shot straight up in the chair. “Don’t clump Ms. Corrales with my women,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Neal countered. “She’s much too nice for the likes of you, old buddy.”

Nice? Surely a woman who was that beautiful and sexy couldn’t be nice, too. Could she?

Curiosity suddenly replaced his irritation. “What’s the story on her anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Is she married? And what is she doing up here in this neck of the woods?”

“Why Ross, you must be slipping,” Neal said dryly. “I assumed you’d already gotten all that information from her yesterday.”

Ross had spent the past twenty-four hours trying to forget yesterday and his meeting with Isabella. But so far he’d not forgotten anything about his new attorney. “Ms. Corrales and I had words. But not that kind.”

“Okay, I’ll take pity on you,” Neal told him. “She’s not married. Never has been. And she’s in the area because she’s going home to the reservation.”

“Which reservation?”

“The Jicarilla.”

Ross frowned with disbelief. “Surely not to practice law.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing there!” Ross exclaimed.

Neal chuckled. “I think you’d better take that debate up with Isabella.”

There were plenty more questions Ross would have liked to ask his friend about Isabella Corrales, but he noticed Marina had suddenly appeared in the doorway of the study.

Placing his hand over the receiver’s mouthpiece, he looked at the woman who’d worked as the Ketchums’ cook, housekeeper and nanny for the past forty years.

“Señorita Corrales is here,” she announced. “In the living room.”

“Show her back here, Marina. And when you’re finished, would you make us a fresh pot of coffee? And bring some cookies or something sweet with it.”

“The señorita might not like coffee.”

Ross’s nostrils flared. “But you know that I like it,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You can ask the señorita—I mean, Ms. Corrales—what she’d like to drink.”

Nodding, the older woman turned and disappeared into the hallway. Ross directed his attention back to Neal, still waiting on the other end of the phone.

“Sorry, Neal. My visitor has arrived. I’ve got to go.”

“Bella isn’t your visitor. She’s your attorney. And you’d do well to remember that, amigo.”

“Don’t worry, Neal. That’s something I’m in no danger of forgetting.”

He hung up the telephone and leaned back in the chair to wait. Hardly enough time had passed to twiddle his thumbs before Isabella entered the room.

The moment Ross laid eyes on her, he felt a swift, hard blow to his gut. He’d thought she was beautiful yesterday, but today she was even more lovely. A powder-blue dress of some soft, gauzy material draped her breasts and hips, while the hem fluttered against her slim calves. Her glossy black hair was braided into a thick coronet atop her head. Hammered silver in the shape of small crescent moons swung from her ears, while dusky pink hues on her cheeks and lips added to her already vibrant face.

As he rose to his feet to greet her, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach worsened.

“Good afternoon, Bella,” he said as he extended his hand to hers.

The contact of his callused hand was like grabbing hold of a hot branding iron. Isabella tried to hide the sudden jolt with a wide smile.

“I’m glad you decided to meet with me today,” she said warmly.

He smiled back at her and Isabella struggled not to be charmed by the dimples in his cheeks or the sparkle in his green eyes.

“I’d never be guilty of standing up a lady twice in a row,” he said, then gestured to the opposite side of the long room where a burgundy chesterfield couch and matching chair were positioned for a view of the mountains. “Have a seat.”

Isabella took a seat on the couch, while across from her Ross sank into the armchair, stretched out his long legs and crossed his boots at the ankles.

She drew in a long breath and told herself to relax. He was only a man. It didn’t matter that he was rich and sexy and could charm a bird out of a tree.

“I understand you’re a busy man and you value your time,” Isabella began. “But as I told you yesterday, it’s important that you be prepared. Just in case the D.A. decides to arrest you.”

His narrowed eyes surveyed her in one slow, sweeping motion. “Before we go any further, I’d like to know one thing.”

Her brows lifted warily. “What?”

“Do you think I’m innocent? Or do you even give a damn about that?”

A knowing smile tilted her lips and Ross felt something stir deep in his gut.

“Does what I think make any difference to you?” she asked.

“You answered my question with a question,” he pointed out.

She shifted slightly on the leather couch, thinking that the cost of this one piece of furniture would probably pay for every stick of furnishings in her mother’s entire house. And the lizard boots on Ross’s feet would certainly buy several air-conditioning units. The man had money, all right. But he also had troubles.

“Okay,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe you tried to kill your brother-in-law.”

He grimaced. “Why? You don’t even know me.”

Shrugging, she allowed her eyes to meander over him. This afternoon he was without a hat. His thick dark hair waved back from his forehead and tickled the back of his collar. If she were to get closer, she expected she would see a few threads of gray at the temple. But then, she didn’t have any business getting that close.

“I don’t know much about the incident, either,” she told him. “At least, not yet. But I like to think I’m a good judge of character. And besides, Neal assured me that even though you’re hot-headed, you’re not a killer.”

His lips twitched. “And you believe whatever Neal tells you?”

“I know from experience that he’s an honest man.”

Jealousy waltzed in from nowhere and kicked him in the midsection. “You’ve known Neal a long time?”

She smiled and Ross could see genuine fondness in her eyes. The next time he saw Neal, he promised himself that he was going to sock his friend in the jaw.

“Long enough.”

She was as smooth and cool as gourmet ice cream, he thought. But he’d bet the whole T Bar K that underneath her poised exterior, he’d find a wicked hot streak.

“What did he tell you about the shooting?”

“Very little. That’s what I want you to do.”

He rubbed a restless hand against his thigh. “Jess is the person you need to talk to. He’s the one who was shot.”

“I plan to talk to your brother-in-law and your sister,” she assured him. “But before I do, I want to hear what you have to say.”

He started to respond, but Marina chose that moment to enter the study. He waited until the older woman had left a tray holding an insulated carafe of coffee and a plate of thick, golden-brown cookies on his desk before he rose to his feet. He walked over to the tray and quickly filled two cups with coffee.

He glanced at her. “Cream or sugar?”

She shook her head and he carried the cup over to her. As she leaned up to take it from him, he caught the sweet scent of lilac on her skin. The last time he could remember having smelled the old-fashioned fragrance was when his mother, Amelia, had been alive. She’d been serene and beautiful, too. Just like Isabella Corrales.

“What about a cookie?” he asked. “They’re full of coconut and chocolate chips. Marina makes them herself. And trust me, they’re delicious.”

A dimple appeared to the left of her mouth. “I’ll have to try one now. Just to test your honesty.”

The teasing lilt in her voice got to him more than her beauty, more than the sensual lure of her body, more than anything. It was an invitation for friendship, something that Ross Ketchum valued far above that sentimental notion called love.

He fetched her a cookie and a napkin. After he’d helped himself to a couple of the sweet desserts, he returned to his seat in the armchair.

“So,” he said after biting off a hunk of one of the cookies. “What do you want to know?”

She wanted to know lots of things about Ross Ketchum, she realized. Things that had nothing to do with him needing an attorney, or his brother-in-law being shot.

Disgusted with her own weakness, she said, “Just start with the day of the shooting. What were you doing that day?”

“First of all, I’d been away on a business trip,” he said, “and I didn’t get here to the ranch until noon. After I ate lunch, I got a call from an acquaintance about a stallion he wanted to sell, so I drove over to his place to take a look at the horse.”

“Where?”

“About twenty minutes west of Aztec,” he answered quickly.

“Will this person verify that you were at his place?”

“No doubt about it.”

Isabella put herself back into prosecutor mode. “And when did you leave there?”

“Around four,” he told her, then grinned impishly. “And I didn’t buy the stallion. He had a big ankle. He might have gone lame later on.”

“Four,” Isabella repeated thoughtfully. “The shooting took place when?”

Ross shrugged. “Victoria wasn’t sure. She said dusk was falling.”

“Hmm,” she mused aloud. “If that’s the case, you had plenty of time to drive back here and get out to the arroyo where the shooting occurred.”

“That’s right.”

She sipped her coffee and tried a bite of the cookie. As Ross had promised, it was delicious.

“You don’t seem a bit concerned about that,” she accused.

The corners of his mouth turned downward. “Why the hell should I be? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, but can you prove that?” Isabella asked the pointed question.

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “The burden of proof should be on the state, not me. Or has the law that a person is innocent until proven guilty changed?”

“Nothing has changed. But if you had a solid alibi, you wouldn’t have any need for a lawyer.” A tiny frown creased the middle of her forehead. “So where did you go after you looked at the horse?”

He swallowed more of the coffee, which reminded Isabella that hers was getting cold. She reached for her cup and took a dainty sip.

“I went to another ranch. The Double X, just north of here. Someone had told me that the owner thought he’d spotted my missing stallion a few days before.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Ross shook his head. “No. No one was home. So I drove back here, saddled Juggler and went to check on the cattle in the south flats.”

“Who went with you?”

“No one. I went alone.”

Her eyes widened at this bit of information. “Is that normal? For you to ride out alone?”

He chuckled as though he found her question inane, but Isabella knew it wouldn’t be so funny if he found himself on a witness stand.

“Look, Bella, the T Bar K is a big spread. And though I’ve got a bunkhouse full of hands, we’re still sometimes spread thin. If I can do a job alone, I do it.”

As Isabella watched him pop the last piece of cookie into his mouth, she felt certain that Ross Ketchum was being honest with her. But her opinion didn’t count in a court of law. He needed an alibi.

“I’m sorry, Ross, but I’m merely asking you what any good prosecutor would want to know.”

He left his seat and placed his empty cup on the serving tray. Then turning to face her, he looped his thumbs over the wide leather belt at his waist. “Okay,” he said, “I can’t account for my whereabouts. But that doesn’t make me guilty.”

“No,” she agreed. “It just makes you unlucky.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Rising from the couch, she walked over to where he stood by the desk. After placing her coffee cup next to his, she looked up at him.

“I’m going to figure out who really did this thing.”

Ross couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “Sure. One little woman is going to do what the whole San Juan County sheriffs’ department can’t seem to accomplish.”

She didn’t allow his laughter to get to her. After all, her boast probably did sound ridiculous. But he was a white man. He wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain that Naomi had told her that the truth would appear to Isabella. And her godmother had never told her a wrong thing.

“I’m Apache,” she said with solemn pride. “We’re tenacious hunters. We don’t give up until we get our prey.”

Humor creased his cheeks and danced in his green eyes. “Okay, so where do you intend to start on this great hunting trip?”

A provocative smile suddenly curved the corners of her lips. “I think the best place to start would be your bedroom.”