The Rancher's Request. Stella Bagwell

you’re doing trying to insert yourself into my family. Particularly, through my daughter.”

      “Insert? God, you’re a sick man. Or maybe I should say fearful. Is that it, Mr. Sanchez? You’re actually afraid your daughter might seek out attention from someone other than you? Or do you have something far bigger to worry about?”

      His jaw tightened to the point that it was aching, while his hands itched to reach out and grab her. It would give him pleasure, extreme pleasure, to shut her mouth exactly the way he’d shut it three days ago. But this time he wouldn’t let himself forget that he was a gentleman. At least, not here in a parking lot where anyone might be watching.

      “What are you trying to insinuate?” he countered.

      “That you’re overreacting for some reason.”

      He was. And he wasn’t exactly sure why. True, he didn’t want his grandparents’ history plastered about in the paper. But he’d be a fool to think that the locals didn’t gossip about his late family. Nate and Sara had been local icons in their era and because so much mystery had swirled around his death and her money, the interest would never die.

      Releasing a long breath, he said, “You’re right. And if I’m wrong about you, I’m sorry. But then, how could I possibly know I can trust you?”

      She gave him a halfhearted grin and Matt could feel his gut tighten at the sight of white teeth against lush pink lips. Everything about her shouted sensuality and he could only wonder what it would be like to have her in his bed, to hear her whimper with pleasure and sigh with contentment.

      “You can’t know, Mr. Sanchez. Except that I told you I was here on another assignment—you’ll read about it in the newspaper. Also, I met your father. And since his speech is impeded it’s pretty obvious I wasn’t here to question him.”

      He looked at her with surprise. “You met Dad?”

      She nodded. “Gracia wanted to introduce me and I was glad. Your father seems like a very nice gentleman. I wished we could have visited verbally, I think we would be friends.”

      No doubt. Mingo had always adored pretty women. From afar that is. As far as Matt knew his father had always been a faithful husband to his wife. But Mingo had never hidden the fact that he liked to look at the opposite sex. Well, he’d certainly gotten an eyeful with Juliet.

      “My dad is a nice gentleman,” he agreed.

      “Gracia is lost without him on the ranch.”

      It had taken Matt months to realize just how much his daughter was devastated by Mingo’s absence on the ranch. Apparently it had only taken Juliet Madsen a few minutes to figure it out.

      “I know. But there’s not much to be done. He needs a lot of personal care that we couldn’t give him at home. We thought about hiring a round-the-clock nurse for him, but one person, especially a woman, couldn’t deal with all the lifting and turning. Besides, Dad wants it this way.”

      She actually looked disappointed and Mingo wondered if she really did feel compassion for his father. It certainly looked that way.

      “Is there any hope that he might get better?” she asked.

      He shrugged one shoulder much in the same way that Gracia had. “The doctors haven’t ruled out all hope, but they’re not very encouraging, either. We have more tests scheduled for him in Houston at the end of the month. If we’re lucky, something will come out of them.”

      Juliet nodded. “I hope so. I’ll pray for him.”

      Prayers, he thought bitterly. Who was this woman kidding? For several years after Erica had died, he’d prayed constantly for the rest of his family to be safe and together. In return his father was nearly killed, his strong healthy body reduced to helplessness.

      “I have to go. Goodbye, Miss Madsen.”

      He quickly walked away before either of them could say anything else. Inside the nursing home, he headed straight to his father’s room and found the man alone, watching a program on television.

      At the sight of his eldest son, Mingo switched off the set and gave Matt a wide smile.

      “Hi, Dad. Where’s Gracia?”

      The man made a motion of lifting something to his mouth and drinking. Matt guessed, “Gone to get you a soda?”

      Mingo nodded, then reached for the pad and pencil he always kept in a pocket on his chair. He quickly scribbled two words and handed the paper to his son.

      Blond woman.

      Matt looked at him. “Yes, Juliet told me that she met you.”

      Mingo’s smile grew broader as his eyes gleamed with pleasure. He then pointed questioningly to his ring finger and Matt knew instantly what was on his father’s mind.

      “No. She isn’t married.”

      Mingo pointed at Matt, then lifted his fingers to his lips in a kissing motion.

      Matt groaned. Dear God, she’d already gotten to his father, too. Where was it all going to end?

      Chapter Three

      For the next three days Juliet worked on several pieces involving social events and a political issue being squabbled over by the town’s council. In between all that, Juliet began to go through the old archives, hunting for anything involving the Sandbur ranch. She’d discovered that the ranch had been a popular news item over the years and as she pieced the bits of information together, she learned far more than she’d ever expected.

      As for Gilbert and his idea to print a story about Sara Ketchum’s so-called buried treasure, Juliet hated it. These past few days, she’d been hoping against hope that the man would have a change of heart and tell her to drop the whole idea. So far that hadn’t happened and as the days began to click by, her mind was spinning faster, searching for a way out.

      What was she going to do? Tell Gilbert to kiss her plump behind? She didn’t think he’d bat an eye about firing her. In the months she’d worked at the Fannin Review, she’d not seen a drop of compassion in him. And no doubt he’d like any excuse to replace her with cheaper labor. She didn’t want to lose her job. But she couldn’t bring herself to write something about a family that might cause them embarrassment or pain. Not that she was the least bit worried about Matt Sanchez. As far as Juliet was concerned, he could chew on any words she wrote and choke trying to swallow them. But Gracia was a different matter. The child had already been through more than any young person should have to endure. The last thing she needed was to see sordid details about her great-grandparents plastered in the hometown paper.

      The telephone on her desk rang, interrupting her dour thoughts. She tried to push them aside as she answered, “Juliet Madsen here.”

      “Hi, Juliet! This is Gracia. I know I shouldn’t call you at work. Can you talk a minute?”

      She’d just been thinking about the girl and now here she was on the phone, Juliet thought. Was it some sort of omen? Or was something wrong?

      “Sure. Go right ahead.”

      “Well, I called ’cause I want to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow night. I’m going to be thirteen and Daddy said I could have any sort of party I want, so I’m inviting every friend I have and that means you, too.”

      Juliet stared thoughtfully down at the papers piled upon her desk. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint the girl. But the idea of facing Matt Sanchez under any circumstances was a troubling one.

      “Is the party going to be at the ranch?” Juliet asked.

      “Yes. It’s gonna be a barn party. So wear jeans and boots. Cook is gonna fix lots of good things to eat and a giant chocolate cake.”

      “Sounds like fun,” Juliet replied noncommittally.

      “Oh, it will be! Say you’ll come!