style="font-size:15px;"> There it was, a bold wrought-iron-and-metallic creation that was as big as day—and as ornate as all getout.
Before she could turn off one road and onto the other, a black Dodge Ram pickup with mud flaps roared around her. As it passed, the left rear tire hit a mud puddle and shot a big splash of dirty water at her little white truck.
The jerk.
She was about to lay on the horn, but held back. After all, it might be one of the relatives, and there was no need to get off on a bad foot before they’d had a chance to meet face-to-face.
Realizing she’d have to wash the truck to get the bug spatters off the windshield, anyway, she shrugged off her annoyance and turned right onto the road that led to the ranch house.
As she drove, she scanned the rolling hills and the lush pastures dotted with grazing cattle. It was a beautiful piece of property, and she wondered what it would have been like growing up on a place like this, instead of back in Grass Valley, on the much smaller spread her daddy had inherited from her maternal grandfather.
When she neared the big, sprawling house, with a wraparound porch, she looked for a place to park her truck. Then she chose a spot next to the Dodge Ram.
A dark-haired man who appeared to be in his early thirties still sat in the driver’s seat, talking on his cell phone.
He was too young to be her uncle. Was he one of the cousins?
She pulled in beside him and shut off her ignition, just as he opened the driver’s door and climbed from the cab.
Unlike the cowboys or ranch hands she’d grown up with, he wore a pair of polished loafers, black slacks and a light blue button-down shirt. A thick head of dark hair and an olive complexion boasted of a His-panic bloodline.
Tammy blew out a little whistle. She didn’t find many men worth a second glance. She was too busy competing with the ones she rubbed elbows with each day. But this one was…different.
And she couldn’t help sitting in her seat, her hands braced on the steering wheel, her heart pounding to beat the band.
Who was he?
She had no idea, but she hoped he wasn’t a blood relative.
He pulled a worn leather satchel from the cab of his truck, the kind an old-fashioned doctor who made house calls might carry.
But there wasn’t anything old-fashioned about him.
When he looked her way and caught her eye, he gave a little smile and a nod of acknowledgment. Then he made his way toward the house.
For the life of her, all she could do was sit and watch him go.
By the time she’d cleared her head of goofy, hormonal thoughts and gathered her courage for an introduction of some kind, he was climbing up the steps to the house. So she quickly got out of the truck and grabbed her suitcase from the bed. Then she followed him up the steps to the front door.
As she neared the porch, a woman with silver-streaked black hair swung open the door as if she’d been waiting for the man all day and had just heard him drive up.
“Good afternoon,” she said. “Come on in, Doc.”
So he was the doctor—her grandfather’s personal physician, no doubt. The fact that a man like him was willing to make house calls was enough to make a girl feel faint—or to claim feeling that way just so she could get his attention and spend some time alone with him.
“Thanks,” Doc said. “How’s Tex doing today, Tina?”
“Not as good as he was yesterday, but maybe that’s because he didn’t sleep too well last night.
“Can I get you anything?” the woman—Tina—asked as she stepped aside to let the doctor into the house. “Coffee maybe? Barbara just whipped up a batch of blueberry muffins.”
“Sounds great. I’d never turn down anything Barbara baked. She’s got to be the best cook in the county.”
As Doc stepped into the house, the woman at the door noticed Tammy standing just a few feet away, her suitcase in hand. She hoped she wasn’t caught gaping like a lovesick puppy.
So she rallied, reclaiming her runaway thoughts.
“Good afternoon,” Tammy said, realizing she’d better introduce herself. “I’m William’s daughter. Mr. Byrd is expecting me.”
The older woman greeted her with a slow smile and an outstretched hand. “I’m Tina Crandall, your grandfather’s housekeeper. Please come in. We’ve been expecting you.”
Tammy carried her suitcase inside.
“I’m afraid he’s not able to talk with you at the moment,” Tina said. “As you can see, the doctor just arrived. But in the meantime, I can show you to your room so you can freshen up.”
Tammy glanced down at the blue plaid flannel shirt she wore, as well as the denim jeans. She’d showered this morning, and her clothes were clean. As far as she was concerned, she’d dressed for the occasion.
Another woman might have wanted to powder her nose or apply some lipstick, but Tammy never had cottoned to using makeup. But she wouldn’t mind checking out the room where she’d be staying during the unexpected homecoming. “Sure, that’d be great. Thanks.”
Tina led Tammy across the scarred wood plank flooring in the entry and into a large, rugged living room, with white plastered walls, dark beams and an amazing stone fireplace adorned with an antlered deer head.
So this is where her daddy had grown up and learned to be a man. It certainly had a masculine decor.
In a way, the style appealed to Tammy. As the only girl in a family of men, she’d grown up trying to not only keep up with her brothers, but also outdo them. In fact, she’d become so competent as a ranch hand on her daddy’s ranch, that not many of the cowboys could best her.
“As soon as you freshen up,” Tina said, glancing over her shoulder, “I’ll take you into the kitchen, where we’ll get you fed. Barbara has been cooking and baking for the past two days, just getting ready for y’all.”
“Sounds good to me.” Tammy wondered how wealthy “Tex,” or rather her grandfather, was if he could afford to hire one woman to clean his house and another to fix his meals.
Back home, Tammy handled all the household chores, especially the cooking. And she wasn’t half-bad at it, either.
’Course she complained about the chore every chance she got. It wouldn’t do her a lick of good to let the men she lived with know that she actually liked puttering around the kitchen.
“Am I the first to arrive?” Tammy asked.
“So far. But I expect the others will be rolling in soon.”
Tammy brushed her free hand along the sides of denim jeans, glad she’d gotten here first since her nerves were so jumpy. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting the people who were strangers to her. Still, at the same
