Читать книгу His Defender - Stella Bagwell - Страница 11

“My bedroom!”

The shocked look on Ross’s face told Isabella he’d taken her suggestion all wrong. Which didn’t surprise her that much. Next to ranching, women were probably his favorite entertainment. And now he was thinking she wanted to be his tidbit for the afternoon.

Heat swarmed her face as she tilted her chin up at him. “Yes, your bedroom,” she answered primly. “That is where you keep your firearms, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” he said inanely. “Yeah. I have a gun cabinet in my bedroom. Is that what you want to see?”

Turning her back to him, she licked her dry lips. “Among other things.”

His hand suddenly rested against the small of her back and Isabella had the absurd urge to close her eyes.

“It’s at the other end of the house,” he told her. “I’ll show you.”

Isabella mentally shook herself and quickly started toward the door. Ross followed at her side while his hand remained at her back. Once they were out of the long study and in the hallway, he guided her to the left.

“How many people live here in the ranch house now?” she asked, while wondering why she didn’t make a move to pull away from him.

“Only me. Victoria moved out three weeks ago when she married Jess. Marina lives in a small house of her own on the property.”

The two of them had already passed several doorways. Too many rooms for just one man, Isabella thought.

“There’s another wing on the opposite side of the house,” he added, as though reading her thoughts. “Victoria did use those.”

More curious than ever, she glanced up at him. “Why did your father build such a huge house?”

“Well, he had four children. And when Mother was still alive he did a lot of entertaining. Cattle and horse buyers might come and stay a whole week while they looked over the ranch’s livestock. That’s when the ranch was really hopping,” he added, his voice full of wistful pride.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “And it isn’t hopping now?”

He smiled faintly. “Sure it is. We just do things differently nowadays.”

“You mean you don’t invite people into your home anymore?”

Ross frowned. “You’re trying to make me sound inhospitable.”

“Not really. You just don’t seem the sort of man who’d enjoy playing host for very long.” Not without a wife around to play hostess, she thought.

With a sly smile, he reached out and pushed open a door to his right and motioned for her to go in.

“This is it,” he announced.

A bedroom said a lot about the person who slept there, and as Isabella looked around the spacious room, one thing kept coming to her mind. Ross Ketchum was all man.

The king-size bed was sturdy oak with short, fat posts at the head and foot. It was covered with a rich burgundy-colored spread that matched the drapes on the windows. Paintings and sketches of the old west were scattered here and there on the whitewashed walls. To one side of the doorway a row of pegs held an assortment of felt and straw cowboy hats, a leather holster for a six-shooter, and a brown, oiled slicker. Along the end of the room, a tall gun cabinet made of varnished cedar and glass sat next to a shorter chest of drawers.

Several steps away to her right, one lone photo sat atop an otherwise bare dresser top. The distance between it and Isabella made it impossible to see who or what was in it.

“No TV?” she asked.

His lips twisted wryly. “A man has better things to do in bed.”

She should have seen that coming, Isabella thought with a measure of irritation at herself.

“Is that where the rifle was kept?” she asked, inclining her head toward the gun cabinet. “The one that was fired at Mr. Hastings?”

Ross nodded. “That’s it. I’ve had that particular 30.30 for years. Dad gave it to me for my fourteenth birthday. We used to take deer-hunting trips back then, before his heart got too bad.”

There it was again, she thought. That faint wistfulness in his voice that said he missed his parents and missed the way his home life used to be.

The notion softened her in a place that was far too private to be letting thoughts of Ross Ketchum inside.

“When did your parents pass away?” she asked gently.

“Dad died nearly two years ago. Mother passed on quite a while before that. Probably five or six years, I’d say. I’ve pushed the dates out of my head. They’re not ones I want to remember, if you know what I mean.”

She knew all too well. When her grandmother Corrales had died, she’d felt such an intense loss, she’d not been able to eat or sleep for days.

“I’m sure your father is riding another range now. And your mother is probably with him.”

Her remark reminded Ross that she was Apache; she viewed spirituality and the afterlife in a slightly different way than most white folks. The Apache believed that once a loved one died, he or she simply journeyed to another world where life continued in much the same way.

“I hope you’re right. But I doubt Amelia is with him.”

Her brows lifted. “Why do you say that? Surely your parents would want to be together.”

He chuckled. “Dad was a tough old codger. I can’t see any woman wanting to live two lives with him.”

Isabella wanted to ask him why he hadn’t followed his father’s example and filled the empty ranch house with a wife and children. From the information Neal had given her, she knew he was thirty-five. Well past the settling-down age. But questions of that sort would be getting away from her reason for being here, she told herself. And anyway, it didn’t matter why Ross Ketchum was without a wife. She wasn’t interested in him in such a way. She doubted she would ever be that interested in any man again after Brett.

Leaving his side, she walked over to the gun cabinet and peered through the glass doors. There were four rifles and a pump shotgun resting in the velvet holders.

“Is this where you store all your firearms?” she asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah. There’s a couple of pistols in the drawer at the bottom.”

“Did you have the cabinet locked up the day of the shooting?”

Ross cursed. “No. I never lock the thing. It would be pretty useless when anybody could knock the glass out. Besides, why should I lock it? There’s no children around, except my nephew Aaron, who lives about a mile on up the mountain. And he never comes into this room. Even if he did, the guns are never loaded.”

She could see his point, even if she didn’t agree with it.

Turning away from the cabinet, she studied the layout of the room. “What about those sliding glass doors? Where do they go?”

Ross walked over and pushed the drapes completely to one side to expose a view of a rocky, pine-dotted bluff.

“And if you’re wondering, I never lock the doors, either,” he told her.

“So in other words, anybody could have walked through those doors and taken the 30.30 from the gun cabinet,” Isabella reasoned.

“That pretty much sums it up.” Moving over to where she stood, he looked down at her, his expression slightly daunting. “Still think you’re going to catch your prey?”

His closeness set her heart to pounding like the heavy beat of a war drum. “Yes.”

“I’m interested to hear how you plan to do it.”

His eyes were crinkled at the corners, she realized. And there was a tiny scar running through the line of his upper lip. Heat radiated from his body and washed through Isabella in palpable waves. She’d never reacted so physically to any man before, and it disturbed her that a man like Ross had such a strong effect on her.

“Easy,” she said, as she struggled to keep her mind on her business and off of the potent man standing next to her. “We make a list of all the people who dislike you and go through it one by one until we find our man.”

Laughter rumbled deep in his chest before it spilled into the quiet bedroom.

“Oh, honey, if you have to make a list of all the people who dislike me, you’re going to be here for a good long while.”

The man could very well be charged with attempted murder and all he could do was laugh. She wanted to stomp his foot, whack her fist against his chest, anything to wake him up and make him realize that simply being a Ketchum wasn’t enough to keep him out of jail.

Her nostrils flared. “Then all I can say is that you’d better get used to my company,” she said coolly. “Because right now you don’t have much defense.”

The humor suddenly fell from his face. “Now look, Bella, I don’t care how you go about handling this thing. Just don’t expect me to spend my days playing Hardy Boy with you.”

His arrogance was unbelievable. “To be honest, I expect very little from you,” she clipped, then turned and walked out of his bedroom.

He caught up to her in the hallway and her lips pressed together as his hand closed tightly around her elbow. Did he have to put his hands on her every time he got within a foot of her? she wondered. She’d never had a man touch her so much. Especially a man she’d known for little more than twenty-four hours. To make matters worse, she’d never wanted a man to touch her the way she wanted Ross to touch her.

“Wait a minute,” he muttered roughly. “Just what was that crack supposed to mean?”

“It means that—” she paused and drew in a fierce breath. “It’s obvious you’re not interested in clearing yourself. You don’t even see a need to get to the bottom of this suspicion hanging over your head. Maybe if you’d been the one with a bullet in your shoulder, you might be showing a little more concern!”

“Oh, hell,” he spat with disgust.

She breathed deeply and told herself she would refuse to be intimidated by this man. “That’s right.”

“There’s nothing right about it,” he blasted back at her. “Jess is a part of the family. I don’t want him hurt any more than I do my sister!”

Isabella shook her head as she tried to hold on to her temper. “I really can’t figure out why I agreed to take on this job.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.”

A teasing glint had returned to his eyes and she didn’t know whether to throw up her hands or laugh. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt her to lighten up just a bit.

“Does anything ever worry you?” she wanted to know.

Only women like you, Ross thought. When a man started needing, wanting, loving, that’s when he was in real danger of being hurt.

He urged her on down the hallway. “Worry is useless, Bella. It changes nothing.”

Back in the study, he invited her to sit again, but she shook her head. “I need to be going. I have things to do in Aztec. And I’m sure you’ve had enough of my company.”

Actually, he hadn’t. Just looking at her pleased Ross in a way that nothing had before. And to his great surprise, she intrigued him. There were many things he’d like to know about her. Particularly why a beautiful woman like her wasn’t married.

Because she’s married to her career, you fool. Just like Linda was.

“What about the list you were talking about?” he asked. “Don’t you want to hear all the people who dislike me?”

She cast him a wry smile. “I’m going to let you have a little time to think about that. I don’t want you to leave anyone out.”

“All right, I’ll do that,” he agreed, then once again took hold of her arm.

Isabella looked pointedly to the spot where his fingers were wrapped around her flesh, then up to his face. “What are you doing now?”

The testiness in her voice caused a dimple to appear in his cheek. “I’m going to walk you to the door. My mother did try to raise my brothers and me as gentlemen. Why? Is it against the law for a client to touch his attorney?”

It was definitely a crime when it felt like this, Isabella thought. She opened her mouth to give him a reply at the same moment Marina knocked on the open door.

Turning away from Isabella, Ross looked at the cook. “What is it, Marina?”

“I wanted to see if the chica is going to stay for supper.”

“No,” Isabella spoke up quickly. “I have to be going.”

“That’s too bad,” Marina replied, “I’m making smoked ribs. One of Ross’s favorites. And chocolate cake.”

“It sounds delicious,” Isabella told her. “But I really do have things to do in Aztec.”

“You could drive back when you’re finished,” Ross quickly suggested, then wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. He didn’t need to be having dinner with this woman. Even if they managed to keep things strictly business, she was lethal. Spending time with her was going to keep him on a tightrope.

Marina smiled at her boss’s suggestion.

Isabella turned a hopeless expression on him. “I could drive back,” she reasoned. “But I’m not keen on driving the mountain road here to the ranch after dark. And it would be dark by the time we finished supper.”

“You are right, señorita,” Marina spoke up. “The road is much too rough and dangerous for a woman to be driving after dark. You should stay here on the ranch. We have plenty of rooms.”

It was all Ross could do to keep his jaw from dropping. Marina never took it upon herself to invite people to stay on the ranch. On top of that, she was usually slow to warm up to strangers. But here she was treating Isabella better than a long-lost relative.

“Thank you, Marina, but I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you,” Isabella assured her. “My motel room has most everything I need.”

Ross looked at her in surprise. “You’re staying in a motel?”

Isabella made a palms-up gesture. “Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with that?”

“Well, no. I just—Neal said something about you going home to the reservation. I thought you were staying there.”

“While I’m working on your case I need to be in this area. And it’s too far to drive from here to the reservation every day,” she explained.

The last thing he needed was to have Isabella Corrales underfoot, Ross thought. But a motel room was costly. He didn’t want her to be out that much money. Not on his account. And she did make for a very pretty decoration.

“Did Neal make any arrangements to pay your expenses while you worked for me?” Ross asked her.

Isabella shook her head. “No. But don’t worry, I’ll tack it on the final bill,” she added teasingly.

With sudden decision, he said, “You can’t continue to stay in a motel. With this big house full of empty rooms, it would be senseless. Once you finish your business in Aztec this afternoon, pack your bags and drive back out here to the ranch. Marina will have everything ready for you.”

The cook’s brown face creased into a satisfied grin. “That’s right.”

Stay here on Ross Ketchum’s ranch? Isabella asked herself. She’d be putting herself in the way of danger. Not the sinister kind that had taken place out on T Bar K range. No, she was thinking of a more subtle sort of danger. The kind that sneaked up on a person’s heart.

“But I need—”

“A phone, a fax, a computer? The ranch has all of those things,” Ross assured her.

“I—” she looked awkwardly at Marina who was waiting to hear her decision. “I think I need to discuss this with Ross. Would you excuse us, Marina?”

With a nod of understanding, the cook left the room. Isabella turned back to Ross, who was studying her with a bemused expression.

“All right. What’s the matter?” he asked before she could utter a word.

“I’ll tell you what’s the matter,” she clipped out concisely. “Yesterday you didn’t even want me as your lawyer. And not more than fifteen minutes ago, you made it very clear you didn’t have time for me. That doesn’t sound like a man who’s eager to have me staying in his home.”

As his eyes lazily scrolled her face, his arms crossed his broad chest. “I admit it’s bad business to put a beautiful woman in close proximity to me. But I’m making an exception with you.”

Close proximity to him? As far as she was concerned, it would definitely be bad business. But that didn’t stop her from wondering what it would feel like to have those big, strong arms circled around her or to have her cheek resting against his broad chest.

“Oh?” she asked. “Because you’ve finally realized you’re in a bit of a jam with the law?”

To her disgust he chuckled. “No. I’m making an exception because you’re not my type. So you’ll be perfectly safe in my company. And I won’t be threatened by yours.”

Not his type. Isabella should be relieved. Instead, she felt insulted. Lifting her chin, she said, “I appreciate your offer. But I don’t think it would be wise to…stay here on the T Bar K.”

His brows lifted with an innocence that belied the glint in his eyes. “Why not? You planned to do some investigating, didn’t you?”

Her heart continued to thud at a pace that was quickly draining her. “Yes.”

“It pretty much stands to reason that whoever framed me is here on this ranch. Don’t you agree?”

“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.”

As she asked the question, she turned around to face him and was immediately relieved to see he was still wearing the jeans and yellow cotton shirt he’d had on earlier this afternoon. She’d sensed that he wouldn’t be one to dress for the evening meal, so she’d changed from her dress into a pair of black capri pants and a black sleeveless top.

His eyes slipped over her face, then downward to where her top V’d between her breasts before he finally met her gaze. “That’s right. Maggie is still single. She’s had a hard time getting over Hugh’s death.”

“What about you?” Isabella asked softly.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered impatiently. “That’s a stupid question. A man never gets over losing his brother. I think of Hugh every day. Sometimes several times a day.”

She suddenly thought of John and how she might react if something were to happen to him. It would devastate her to lose the only sibling she had. But on the other hand, there were times when days went by without her thinking about John. She supposed it might be different if the two of them were close. But they weren’t, and, she thought sadly, she doubted their relationship would ever change.

“So you two were close.”

Even though she’d stated a fact more than asked a question, Ross nodded and grinned. “Hugh was more like me than Seth ever was. Don’t get me wrong, I’m close to Seth, too. But he’s always been a lawman at heart. Hugh liked punching cattle and riding broncs. He was good at it, too. A damn sight better than me.”

The compliment to his late brother surprised Isabella. She’d expected Ross to be the sort that thought of himself as the best.

“I’m sorry Hugh’s not here to help you through this,” she said.

He looked at her, and she could feel his eyes traveling over her hair, which she’d let down from its braid and tied back with a black scarf.

I’m sure that cowboy thought you were very beautiful.

Faint color seeped into Isabella’s cheeks as her mother’s words suddenly waltzed through her mind. She had no idea whether Ross thought she was beautiful, but she did know he looked at her in a way that no man had before, a way that made her feel as though he could see right through her clothing.

“Hugh wouldn’t like what’s been happening on the ranch here lately,” Ross said, his expression suddenly turning grim. “Not even a little bit.”

“What about your other brother?” Isabella asked curiously. “Does he know Victoria’s husband was shot with your rifle?”

“No. He doesn’t even know Victoria and Jess have gotten married. You see, Seth is a Texas Ranger and sometimes he goes off on undercover assignments. When that happens we can’t get in touch with him.” He shook his head. “That’s not entirely right. I expect we could. If it was a dire emergency we could contact his captain down in San Antonio. But this isn’t dire enough…yet.”

Isabella wondered how bad things would have to get before the Ranger was called in. Attempted murder to their brother-in-law wasn’t exactly a minor squabble. Aloud, she said, “Well, I hope it doesn’t become any worse than it already is.”

Grinning as though he didn’t have a worry in the world, Ross turned and walked to the other side of the room where a small bar quartered off one corner. “Would you like a drink before we go into dinner?”

“No. I don’t drink.”

“It doesn’t have to be alcoholic. You can have juice or a soft drink,” he offered.

“All right. Just make it small. I need to save room to try out Marina’s cooking.”

She moved toward the front of the room as he filled two glasses with crushed ice.

“You’re in for a treat,” Ross said. “Nobody can cook like Marina.”

After filling the squatty tumblers with cola, he carried them both to where she was standing by a huge picture window. Beyond the wide glass, dusk was falling, merging the shadows of the distant ranch yard. Lights streamed from the log bunkhouse and horses quietly milled in nearby pens. It was a heavenly sight.

“Twilight and a cowboy’s day is done,” he murmured.

She took the glass he offered and as she looked up at him, the contentment she found on his face revealed more to her about Ross Ketchum than anything he’d said so far.

The T Bar K wasn’t just a ranch or a job to him. It was his love, his life. Without it, he’d be a lost man. Just as she would be lost if she couldn’t fulfill her dream of helping her people.