Tammy and the Doctor. Judy Duarte

moment, her father’s stance eased and his expression softened. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, his eyes glistening. Then he stiffened again, rolling back the gentle side of himself that he rarely showed anyone. “That was a long time ago, Tam.”

      Yes, it was. But he’d held on to his anger—or someone else had—for thirty-five years. So pretending to brush it all off wasn’t working. And nothing he said, short of spilling the beans, was going to convince her that it hadn’t been a big deal. It must have been huge.

      “You know,” her father said, removing his hand from her cheek and scanning the yard, “now that I’m here, I’m going to take a little walk before it gets dark.”

      “What are you planning to do?”

      He shrugged. “I’m just going to check things out, see what’s changed and what hasn’t. I might even look for the foreman and ask him if any of the old ranch hands are still around. Some of them were friends of mine.”

      “Okay. But, Daddy, what—”

      He raised his hand like a traffic cop, halting her words with a warning look. “If things had been different, Tammy, I never would have met your mother or had you and your brothers. So just drop it.”

      Then he walked away, letting her know the discussion was over.

      Trouble was, everyone in the immediate family knew Tammy had a curious streak a mile wide. And now that she knew there was some kind of dark secret to uncover, she’d be darned if she’d back down and let it go.

      Moments later, as her father reached the barn and Tammy was still standing in the drive, a woman drove up in a bright red convertible.

      Tammy watched as she parked, then climbed from the car and removed a stylish, autumn-colored scarf from her head, revealing straight, shoulder-length blond hair.

      She wore a pair of boots and a brown skirt that had to be fashionable as well as expensive. Yet more remarkable was a cream-colored sweater that showed off an amazing set of bazooms.

      Would you look at that? Tammy had a pair a lot like ’em, but she kept hers hidden behind loose-fitting shirts, like the blue flannel one she had on today. After all, the darn things usually got in the way when she worked.

      Besides, she’d never liked getting that kind of attention from men.

      But then again, after meeting Doc today…Well, she wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.

      Either way, she removed her hands from the front pockets of her jeans and moseyed a bit closer to the much taller woman, introducing herself and her connection to Tex.

      The blonde stuck out a soft, manicured hand and gave her a solid greeting. “I’m Donna, Sam’s daughter.”

      “Nice to meet you.” Tammy tried out a friendly smile on her attractive cousin and was glad to see it returned.

      Well, it wasn’t one of those full-on, warm-and-fuzzy smiles that said, “Let’s be friends.” Hers was more like, “If I have to be here, I may as well make the best of it.”

      But Tammy could live with that.

      “Have my father or my sister, Jenna, arrived yet?” Donna asked.

      “Nope, not yet. So far, it’s just you, me and my dad. My two brothers, Aidan and Nathan, won’t get here until later this week. They’re on a fishing trip out in the wilds of Montana, and we have no way of even contacting them until later this week.”

      Donna nodded, as if she understood, yet something in her gut told Tammy the stylish, citified woman had never gone fishing or hunting or camping before. Heck, she didn’t even look as though she could handle a temporary visit on a ranch.

      Of course, the conclusion Tammy came to when she took in her stylishly cut hair, the carefully applied makeup and that womanly shape.

      “I suppose I should go inside and let someone know I’m here,” Donna said, as she reached into the back-seat of the convertible and took out a suitcase. Then she pressed a button that caused the top to roll down.

      “The housekeeper’s name is Tina,” Tammy said. “She’ll probably show you to your room. There certainly seems to be a lot of them, which means we won’t have to double up.”

      Meeting her new cousins was one thing. But sharing their sleeping quarters was another.

      Tammy scanned the sprawling house, which had to be three times the size of the one she shared with her father in Grass Valley. And their home was nearly two thousand square feet.

      As Donna strode toward the wraparound porch, her hips swayed in a way that looked natural and not at all fake. And Tammy couldn’t help being a bit envious.

      She wondered how old her cousin Donna was—certainly more than Tammy’s twenty-five years. Was she thirty yet? It was hard to say. Women who wore makeup could hide a lot of the telltale signs of aging.

      As if on its own accord, her hand lifted to her own face, which she never bothered to cover with color or protect with sunblock. Then she scoffed at the brief moment of insecurity and shoved her hands back in her pockets.

      Rather than follow Donna back into the house, she scanned the yard, taking in the big barn, the corrals and the outbuildings.

      About the time she decided that it might be fun to take off on her own little exploration of the Flying B, another engine sounded in the distance. She waited and watched as a blue pickup arrived.

      Another blonde sat behind the wheel. She really didn’t resemble Donna all that much, but Tammy figured it had to be Jenna—especially when she climbed out of the truck and reached for a suitcase in back. Who else could it be?

      Tammy gave her a once-over, noting that she was wearing jeans. But hers weren’t as worn or baggy as Tammy’s. In fact, they looked brand-spanking-new.

      Her frilly white cotton blouse didn’t hug her curves, like Donna’s sweater had. And unlike Donna, with her womanly curves, Jenna was slight and willowy. But she was just as pretty, just as feminine.

      And to be honest, it was enough to make Tammy want to squirm right out of her worn denim jeans.

      She sure hoped her cousins didn’t set their sights on Doc, because if either of them did, Tammy would be left in the dust.

      How in blazes was she supposed to compete with two beautiful women?

      For the first time in her life, Tammy—who could hold her own on a ranch full of men—felt sorely lacking.

      Tammy’s father had yet to return after his walk, but that didn’t stop Tina from entering the living room, where Jenna and Donna had just joined Tammy, and suggesting they come to the kitchen and eat the pot roast Barbara had prepared.

      “Since everyone will be arriving at different times,” the older woman added, “I don’t see any point in making the rest of you wait to eat.”

      The young women, who’d barely had a chance to strike up a conversation, looked at each other, then agreed and followed Tina to the kitchen, where Barbara had set the table for three.

      “Later on,” Tina added, “I’ll take you to meet Tex. I know he plans to have a family powwow after everyone gets here, but that’s probably not going to take place until next weekend. In the meantime when he’s awake, I’m sure he’d like a chance to talk to each of you.”

      If Tammy were the dying man, she’d want to meet with each person individually, too. And she’d start off by calling in the sons who’d left the ranch and created lives and families of their own. But then again, most people didn’t do things the way Tammy did. Besides, it was Tex Byrd’s call.

      Once Barbara had served them, the two older women left them to eat in silence.

      After several uncomfortable minutes, Tammy set down her fork and leaned forward in her seat. “Okay, you guys. I think this whole family-reunion thing is weird, not