His Defender

Her heart suddenly sank, which didn’t make sense. She’d not really wanted this job in the first place. She didn’t like men of Ross Ketchum’s caliber. She should be glad he was giving her the boot. It would free her time so that she could get on with her moving. But she didn’t like the idea of being fired before she’d ever started the job.

“So you’re saying you don’t want me for your attorney?”

“I’m saying I don’t want any attorney.”

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue as she tried to decide how to deal with the unexpected problem he’d just handed her.

“Oh. So you plan on defending yourself?”

He smiled then, but there was no humor about the expression. “I’m not going to need to be defended. The law will get this thing straightened out before it comes to that.”

She studied his face as she tried to figure out if he was simply unconcerned about the trouble hanging over his head or if his attitude had something to do with her being a woman. An Apache woman, at that.

“And what if they don’t?” she persisted.

He shrugged. “Then I’ll hire somebody who will.”

She bristled. “Do you think I can’t do my job, Mr. Ketchum?”

He grimaced. “Look, Ms. Corrales, I don’t want to turn this into something personal.”

Her lips tilted into a dry smile. “But you just did, Mr. Ketchum, by firing me.”

“I didn’t fire you. I only told you I didn’t need you.”

Swatting at the tiny clumps of dirt on her bodice, she said, “I believe you need to rethink that decision.”

Damn Neal Rankin, Ross silently cursed. His friend should have warned him that the woman was young and beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Straight black hair was clasped at the nape of her neck and fell like a shiny scarf to the middle of her back. Delicate brows arched over a pair of soft gray eyes, which were veiled with long, luxurious lashes. A straight nose that flared slightly at the nostrils led down to a set of dusky pink lips that were full and velvety. Her high, molded cheekbones and caramel-brown skin said she was a Native American, but the paleness of her eyes told Ross she also possessed white blood.

“What I think is that Neal got a little nervous,” he drawled. “And jumped the gun.”

Resting a hand on one slim hip, she looked away from him. Ross watched the earrings of cedar beads and chunks of turquoise brush against her neck. Right at a spot that would be so kissable, he thought.

“And you don’t think you should be getting a little nervous yourself, Mr. Ketchum?”

The only thing that was making Ross nervous was being near her. She had an earthy sexiness about her that called to every male particle in his body. And the last thing he wanted was to be attracted to a career woman like Isabella Corrales.

“An innocent man doesn’t have anything to be nervous about, Ms. Corrales. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work waiting on me.”

Tugging the brim of his hat down low on his forehead, he turned and started in a long stride toward one of the barns. Not to be deterred, Isabella followed.

“We haven’t discussed your problem, Mr. Ketchum.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Grimacing, she skipped every other step to keep up with his long-legged steps. “But you could have a problem with the law at any given moment. That’s when you’ll need me.”

Pausing, he turned to give her a droll look. “Let’s set things straight right now, Ms. Corrales. There’s not a woman on this earth that I’ll ever need.”

Although there was no outward bite to his voice, Isabella detected an underlying hostility that took her by surprise.

“Do you have a problem with women?” she asked bluntly.

“I love women,” he answered, then grinned lecherously. “When they’re in their right place.”

Her mouth fell open as he turned and continued on his path toward the barn. Outraged, Isabella raced ahead to block his path.

Looking up at him, she said tightly, “Neal warned me that you were arrogant and possessed a temper. He didn’t tell me you were also coarse and rude.”

The goading smile fell from his face. “But at least I’m honest. That’s probably more than you can say for most of your clients.”

Once again her mouth popped open, then snapped shut. “I haven’t had a client—until you. I’m a prosecutor. Or I was.”

His brows lifted to a jeering arch. “Then I guess you’re still a prosecutor. Because you don’t have me, either.”

Her teeth ground together. She should be telling Ross Ketchum exactly where he could go and stay for a hot eternity. But if a lawyer limited her cases to only those clients she liked, she’d quickly go to the poorhouse. And in her case, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Plus, starting her private practice with a client as well-known as Ross would be a great advantage to her.

“Sorry, but Neal has already paid me a retainer.”

He shrugged. “That’s all right. Keep it for your trouble.”

He was going to let her go. Just like that. The money meant nothing to him. But why would it? she asked herself. He had more than he needed. Getting rid of her was much more important to him. But why?

Her delicate jaw hardened to a firm line as she lifted her eyes to his. “Is your problem that I’m a woman? Or that I’m Apache?” she challenged.

Something flashed in his green eyes. She was trying to figure out exactly what it was, when he muttered, “Oh hell.”

“Don’t—” Before she could say more, he took her by the upper arm.

“Come here,” he demanded.

For one instant she started to plant her heels in the ground and tell him he wasn’t going to manhandle her. But she wanted answers and insulting him wasn’t the way to get them. Besides, she thought, something was wildly exciting about having his strong fingers wrapped around her arm in such a totally masculine way.

She allowed him to lead her across the red dusty ground until they were standing under a wide overhang that shaded a row of horse stalls. Here the odors of alfalfa hay, horses and manure were pungent, but not nearly strong enough to drown out the uniquely male scent of Ross Ketchum.

“Look, Ms. Corrales, I—”

“Call me Bella,” she interrupted.

With his hand still firmly gripping her arm, he drew in a deep breath and let it out. “All right, Bella. I think it’s about time I set you straight about me. There are plenty of people around here who don’t like me for one reason or another. Some say I’m hard. Maybe I am. I admit that I expect a lot from the men who work for me. I won’t accept laziness and I don’t make allowances for screwups. I won’t tolerate whiners or shirkers. And I expect loyalty. If a man doesn’t ride proudly for the T Bar K brand, then he won’t ride for me. But most people who really know me will tell you that I’m also fair. So whether you’re red, white or blue makes no difference to me.”

She was trembling. Whether it was from his touch or his words, she didn’t know. She only knew that something about Ross Ketchum was affecting her in a way she’d never experienced before.

“Good,” she managed to murmur. “Then there shouldn’t be any problem with my being your lawyer.”

The determined glint in her eyes must have convinced him she wasn’t going to back down. After a moment he shook his head with fatal acceptance.

“You don’t give up, do you?”

She smiled. “I’m loyal, too, Mr. Ketchum. When I take on a job, I finish it. Come hell or high water. And for what it’s worth, I hope you never have to see the inside of a courtroom. But if you do, I want to be there with you.”

He studied her for long, pregnant moments. “I think you actually mean that.”

He appeared surprised, a fact that Isabella found strange. Surely the man had been offered help from time to time. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to the help coming from a woman.

“I do mean it. So you’re agreeing to let me stay on the job?”

Before he caught himself, Ross moved his hand sensually up and down her arm. When he finally became aware of what he was doing, he dropped his hold as though he was touching a hot iron.

“It looks as though I’ll have to agree,” he told her as he stepped back to put a measure of space between them. “Otherwise, I’ll be standing around wasting my days arguing with you.”

She smiled again and this time a dimple appeared in her left cheek. As Ross took in the beauty of her face, he realized he’d allowed her to manipulate him. But what the hell, she wouldn’t be around that much. Surely he could keep his hands and his heart to himself. After all, he’d learned his lesson. He’d learned that women like Isabella and men like himself just didn’t mix.

“Then I won’t waste any more of your time today,” she said and extended her hand to him once more. “Goodbye, Mr. Ketchum.”

Ross took her hand and wondered why he had the silly urge to lift the back of it to his lips.

“You might as well call me Ross,” he invited. Then blurted inanely, “When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow. We need to talk over the details of the shooting. Will you have any free time tomorrow afternoon?”

“I never have free time, Bella. But I’ll make it.” Just for you. The silently added words in his head caused him to curse to himself.

“Good,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you then.”

Pulling her hand from his, she turned and walked away. Ross was watching her make her way to the big house when a male voice sounded behind him.

“Who was that, boss?”

Turning, Ross bristled to see Tim, a young ranch hand appreciatively eyeing Isabella as she climbed into her car.

“That is my new lawyer.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t mind a little trouble coming my way if I had someone like her to help me out of it.”

Trouble wasn’t being framed for attempted murder, Ross thought. Trouble was a beautiful woman with raven-black hair and eyes the color of a gentle rain cloud.

Chapter Two

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?”