at a high rate of speed. And I—”
He paused as though he didn’t think his next words were appropriate and Lucita was quick to prompt him. “Please finish, Deputy McCleod. I respect your experienced opinion.”
“Okay. I get the feeling that you’re holding something back about this whole thing.”
The insinuation in his words made her more than a little uncomfortable. She didn’t want this man knowing that she was the black sheep of the Saddler-Sanchez family, that she was the only one who’d brought shame upon herself and her loved ones by marrying a guy they all objected to. “In other words, you don’t trust me.”
He darted a glance at her and the aloofness on his face left her colder than the air blowing from the vents on the dashboard.
“Ms. Sanchez, in my business I can’t take anyone at face value.”
Thankfully for Lucita the remaining distance to the ranch house was only a few short miles. The atmosphere inside the deputy’s truck was thick with tension and the only noise breaking the awkward silence was the sound of crackling voices going back and forth over the two-way radio.
Lucita hunkered down and tried to rest her head on the back of the seat, but each time the truck hit a washed-out hole in the road, the jarring seemed to go right to her injury. After a couple of minutes she gave up and sat rigidly on the edge of the seat.
Before long they crossed a cattle guard framed with an iron pipe entrance. Above, on the arch brace, the S/S brand cut from sheet metal swung in the night breeze.
After they rumbled across the slatted cattle guard, the road began to branch off in all directions between barns, corrals and outbuildings. Deputy McCleod seemed to know exactly where he was going, as he passed the main ranch house, and barreled on toward her father’s redbrick home. She could only surmise that he’d been here before. Perhaps he’d visited when some unidentified ruffians had seriously injured her father in town, or maybe he was acquainted with her brothers personally. She could only guess. One thing she did know, if she’d met him before, she would have never forgotten him.
Lucita quickly corrected his directions. “I’m not living with my father and brothers. I live in the guesthouse out back. You need to go past the first turnoff.”
Thankfully he didn’t ply her with personal questions. Instead, he said, “I think I’d better hand you over to your family, first. I want to make sure you get that wound attended to.”
The man didn’t even trust her to take care of herself. Well, what did she expect, she asked herself grimly. She’d confessed to driving at dangerous speeds. That didn’t exactly speak well for her common sense. But if he’d only seen the menacing car trying to run her down, he might actually understand the desperation she’d felt.
Moments later he parked in front of the Grecian-style manor house. Grabbing up her handbag, Lucita followed him up the lighted path to the front entrance. She hoped that someone was home by now.
To her relief, her older brother, Matteo, Matt to those who knew him well, answered the door. The moment he saw the caller was Deputy McCleod, he stepped onto the concrete porch with a broad smile and reached to shake his hand.
“Ripp! What are you doing out here tonight, old buddy?”
The tall, lean deputy stepped to one side and gestured to Lucita, who was standing at the edge of the shadows.
“I have your sister here, Matt. She met up with an accident a little bit earlier tonight. I thought you’d better know about it.”
Lucita felt like a child bringing home a note from her teacher. Only this was worse than getting caught rubbing dirt in a boy’s face or kicking a pompous cheerleader in the shins.
For a moment her dark-haired, muscular brother was completely stunned. “My God! Luci!”
Stepping into the glaring orb of the porch light, Lucita realized she must be a frightful sight. Blood was smeared on her cheek and hands, and at some point since the accident, it had dripped onto her beige blouse and matching slacks, leaving red splotches against the expensive linen.
Matt grabbed her by the shoulders. “What happened?”
Even though Matt was only four years older than her thirty-six years, he took the big brother role a step further, treating her more like a father. For the past three years it had been Matt who’d pestered and cajoled until she’d packed up her son and their belongings and moved from Corpus Christi back to the Sandbur. It had been Matt who’d convinced her that family was meant to be together, especially in times of trouble. Well, she’d had more than her share of strife and it looked as though her misfortune was still hanging around to make her life even more difficult.
“I’m okay, Matt. Really. It’s just a little cut on the head. Is Marti inside or at the guesthouse?” She glanced around him to the double door entrance of the house. If her eleven-year-old son, Marti, spotted the official sheriff vehicle in the driveway, he’d be outside in a split second to investigate. Lucita wasn’t keen about him seeing her in such a state. The boy had already been through enough traumas these past three years without him knowing his mother had nearly lost her life.
“Neither. He and Gracia are up at the big house playing some sort of card game with Aunt Geraldine.”
“Good,” she said, relieved. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
Matt whipped an accusing look at the deputy. “Ripp, what the hell did you bring her here for? She needs to be in the emergency room!”
Ripp grimaced. He’d expected this from Matt. And no doubt Mingo would be just as appalled to see his daughter battered and bleeding. The Sanchez men were one of the reasons he’d decided to personally deliver Lucita here to the ranch. Several years ago, Mingo had gone out of his way to help Ripp get the job of Chief Deputy for Sheriff Travers. As for Matt, he’d become a friend to Ripp while in high school and that friendship had deepened over the years. During that time he’d not met Lucita, but now he definitely wished he had.
“Your sister is just as bullheaded as you are, Matt. She refused an ambulance. Said her cousin would sew her up if need be.”
“Luci, there are times to be tough, and then there’re times you need to accept help! When are you ever going to learn that?” Matt gently scolded before grabbing his sister by the arm and hurrying her toward the house. “You lucked out tonight, sis. Nicci and Ridge just happened to come back with us after supper and they’re still here.” He looked over to Ripp. “Come in, Ripp. You can tell me what happened while Nicci sees to Luci’s injury.”
Nodding, Ripp followed the two siblings inside the big, two-story house. Compared to Ripp’s little bungalow on the outskirts of Goliad, this home was more than a mansion. The Saddler and Sanchez families, co-owners of the Sandbur, were wealthy and had been for more than a century. Yet Ripp would be the first to admit that Matt and his family never behaved as though they were affluent. Whenever he’d been around them, they had acted the same as any regular folks that worked hard for a living. And Ripp knew for a fact that none of the men sat back and let the hired help run the ranch for them. They got manure on their hands just like the rest of the crew. But as for their sister, Lucita, Ripp was in the dark. Before tonight he’d heard snippets of gossip about her from time to time. Lucita seemed to be the outsider of the family, but then a person could hear anything, especially when they worked in law enforcement.
“Nicci!
