Tammy and the Doctor. Judy Duarte

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 time, she looked forward to it. It ought to be…interesting.

      But not nearly as interesting as having a chance to see the handsome doctor again.

      Doc didn’t seem to notice that Tammy was alive, which, surprisingly, was more than a little disappointing.

      For the first time in her life, she wished that she’d packed more than jeans and Western shirts to wear. But she couldn’t have done that when she didn’t wear—or even own—anything else. Why waste her money or her closet space on stuff she wouldn’t have any use for on a working cattle ranch?

      But maybe she should have considered something a little more…feminine, at least for times like this.

      Oh, for Pete’s sake. She’d never been the least bit feminine, and had never regretted that fact.

      Okay, so she’d regretted it once. In high school, she’d taken a liking to Bobby Hankin, who’d sat across from her in biology. He’d been nicer to her than most of the other guys, so she’d flirted with him—or at least, tried to. And it had backfired on her. She’d overheard him talking about it to a friend, saying that Tam-boy had taken a fancy to him. So from then on she’d set aside any girly or romantic thoughts.

      She’d best remember that now. After all, she really ought to be more concerned about her reasons for being at the Flying B in the first place. Somewhere down the hall, Jasper J. “Tex” Byrd lay dying, and Tammy owed him her condolences, to say the least.

      Ever since learning that the family had been called home to Buckshot Hills, she’d been champing at the bit to meet her grandfather for the very first time. And while she was certainly looking forward to doing that, she was also dead-set on introducing herself. It wouldn’t be so hard to think about her first introduction to Tex, if she wasn’t so focused on meeting the doctor who’d just stopped by to examine him.

      Mike Sanchez removed the stethoscope from Tex Byrd’s chest, then took a seat in the chair beside the bed. “How are those pain meds I prescribed working for you?”

      “They’re taking the edge off, I suppose.”

      Mike could increase the dosage. He could also prescribe morphine, although he’d been holding off on that until closer to the end. Maybe it was time to consider it now. Tex would be having a lot of pain in upcoming days, and he was going to need all the help medical science could give him to deal with it.

      The white-haired old rancher shifted his weight in the bed, as if trying to find a more comfortable spot. Then he grimaced, suggesting the move hadn’t helped much.

      As he settled back on the pillows propping