Out loud?
“I mean,” Tammy said in an attempt to explain herself, “who needs high heels and prom dresses, anyway?”
She’d never really missed the goofy adolescent glamour. Well, not until this very moment in time, when she realized that neither Jenna nor Donna would have a lick of trouble getting Doc’s attention when he showed up at the ranch tomorrow.
And now look at her—trying to reach out and befriend two women who’d probably always be strangers to her. But something told her that Doc wouldn’t give a flying leap about how good she was with a lasso, so she was going to have to learn the ropes of being a woman.
And she knew just the women who could offer her some helpful feminine hints, if they were willing. After all, they were older and wiser when it came to that sort of thing.
But could she lay her heart and soul on the line? Would they even care if she did?
They seemed friendly enough, but they really didn’t know her. And when it was all said and done, when Tex Byrd called them all together and had his say, they’d probably head back to wherever it was they hailed from and never hear from each other again. So she couldn’t very well expect them to feel any family loyalty or be inclined to do her any favors.
Or would they?
Aw, heck. Just toss it right out there, Tammy Kay. Tell ’em that you’re in need of a little help learning how to apply makeup and to style your hair in something other than a braid or a ponytail.
Maybe they’d even agree to go shopping with her for a dress. Her heart spun at the possibility of doing something other women did all the time—going to stores, trying on clothes and taking part in a little girl talk. Then going home and dolling up for the first time in her life.
But it wasn’t just the feminine camaraderie that she found appealing. It was the results of it that set her imagination soaring.
What if she did more than catch Doc’s eye? What if he went so far as to ask her out on a date?
Her heart slipped into a zippity-do-dah beat.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to do anything other than spear a chunk of potato and stuff it into her mouth.
What if her cousins laughed at her, or called her a tomboy and told her to take a hike, or refused to let her in on their secrets? Or, worse than that, if they just passed her by as if she didn’t matter at all? She wouldn’t bounce back from the rejection as quickly as she had in the past.
As it was, she’d be leaning on her own feminine wiles tomorrow—as scary as that was. Because, come hell or high water, she’d snag Doc’s attention.
She just hoped it would be in a good way. Because going on a date with Doc Sanchez was one romantic dream she didn’t want to see crash and burn.
Chapter Three
Before turning in last night, Tammy had explored the ranch house and discovered it wasn’t just spacious. It was enormous.
There were two matching wings, each with four bedrooms, two of which were masters with private baths. The other two were much smaller and shared a single guest bathroom down the hall. Apparently, the girls were staying in the main wing, along with Tex.
The household help, which included Tina Crandall, the housekeeper, and Barbara Eyler, the cook, lived in the south wing in the two large rooms. Since the guest bathroom in that second wing was having plumbing problems, the men had been assigned one of several cabins within walking distance of the house.
Either way, Tammy hadn’t cared where she slept…until she woke up this morning and learned that having to share a bathroom had become a real inconvenience.
Now, as she sat on the edge of the bed listening to the sound of water flowing through the pipes, she glanced again at the clock on the bureau. How much longer would she have to wait to use the shower?
Rather than twiddle her thumbs or pace the floor until the water hog finally decided to come out, she slipped into the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday and went to the kitchen, hoping she could get a cup of coffee—another of her morning habits that allowed her to start the day fresh and wide-awake.
As she crossed the living room, her bare feet padding across the hardwood floor, she savored the hearty aroma of bacon as it sizzled in a frying pan, as well as the welcome smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Her stomach growled in anticipation, so she picked up her pace.
When she entered the kitchen, she spotted Barbara standing at the counter, stirring batter in a large yellow mixing bowl.
“Good morning,” Tammy said. “Do you need any help?”
The short, heavyset woman turned and smiled. “Thanks for the offer, honey, but I’ve got it all under control.”
Back home on her father’s ranch, preparing meals was Tammy’s job. So it felt a little weird letting someone do all the work and serve her for a change.
“You’re up early,” Barbara said, as she set the batter aside.
Not really. The morning sun had already risen, so Tammy felt like a bit of a slug.
“I wanted to take a shower before coming into the main part of the house,” she said, “but someone beat me to it.”
And that someone was taking way too long—at least ten minutes and still going strong.
If Tammy were to ever lollygag in the bathroom, she’d get chewed out—if not left behind—so she’d learned how to take quick showers. But ten whole minutes?
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
