Isabella cast the woman a gentle smile. “I’m not sure Ross would have invited me if you hadn’t brought up the subject.”
Marina shrugged one thick shoulder. “Ross don’t think. He’s too busy buying and selling cattle and horses. He don’t think about women. Not like he should.”
It was clear the T Bar K cook wasn’t regarding her as Ross’s lawyer, but as a romantic diversion. Isabella silently let out a weary sigh.
“What do you mean? Does Ross not have anything to do with women?” The question seemed ludicrous. Especially when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her and everything out of his mouth intimated at something sexual.
The other woman frowned. “Oh, he likes women. Too much. He goes out and has his fun. But he don’t bring them home here to the T Bar K.”
Isabella dropped the bag she was carrying onto the bed with the other two and unzipped it. “Well, that’s probably because he’s not serious about them.”
“Serious?” Marina made a noise somewhere between a snort and a cackle. “Ross is never serious about a woman. He thinks it’s enough to take them places and buy them things. He don’t care if he breaks a heart. ’Cause he don’t feel anything in here.”
Isabella watched Marina’s large hand press against her ample bosom. “That’s a sad thing to say, Marina.”
“Sad but true,” Marina retorted. “I tell Ross that someday he will ache for love. But by then he will be like his daddy. He won’t have anybody. Unless he change.”
Feeling a little uncomfortable with Marina’s personal exposé of Ross, Isabella cleared her throat. “Well, right now I’ve got to keep the man from going to jail.”
Marina’s hand moved from the region of her heart to her wrinkled forehead, as though a picture was turning in her mind. “This is bad, Isabella. There is an evil one on the ranch.”
Isabella unzipped the remainder of her bags and pulled out a stack of underclothes from one of them. As she carried them to a nearby dresser, she asked, “What do you know about the shooting?”
“Nothing. Except I told Victoria not to go to the arroyo that evening. I told her that place was bad. Someone would be hurt. But her and Jess went anyway.”
It didn’t surprise Isabella to hear that Marina had been spouting warnings and prophecies. As Naomi’s goddaughter, she’d heard all sorts of visions and predictions. Surprisingly most came true, but there were times nothing happened. Too bad that hadn’t been the case when Victoria and Jess had ridden out to the arroyo.
Placing her things in one of the drawers, Isabella went back to the bed for another armload. “Was Ross aware that the two of them were headed out to the arroyo?”
Marina pondered for a moment, then shook her head. “Ross was gone from the ranch, I think, when Victoria and Jess rode off. He’d been out hunting Snip.”
“But do you know if someone had told him beforehand where his sister and brother-in-law were going?” Isabella persisted.
Marina frowned as she weighed Isabella’s question. “Could be. There’s plenty of men down at the barn to tell him things.”
“That’s true.” She glanced thoughtfully at Marina. “Just how did Ross feel about Jess at the time of the shooting?”
Marina glanced regretfully toward the sliding glass doors. “He didn’t like Jess. ’Cause he thought he’d done his sister wrong. But he didn’t shoot him, chica.”
Isabella smiled. It was more than obvious that Ross held a very special place in Marina’s heart. “No. I’m sure he didn’t.”
The cook suddenly reached out and patted Isabella’s shoulder. “You’re gonna fix things for Ross. And then we’ll all be glad.”
It felt nice for someone to have confidence in her, but it also weighed her with a heavy responsibility. Ross might not think he was in a sticky situation, but from what Neal had told her, the rest of the Ketchum family was very worried. They were depending on her to keep Ross out of jail.
“I hope you’re right, Marina.”
The older woman smiled with confidence as she headed toward the door. “You finish unpacking. Supper will be soon.”
Nearly an hour later, Isabella was in the living room, studying what she assumed to be a family photo when Ross walked up behind her. The faint scent of musky cologne mixed with another scent, which she’d come to recognize as uniquely his, drifted to her nostrils and warned her that his muscular body was only inches away.
“That was when my older brother Hugh was still alive,” he said quietly.
Isabella bent at the waist to look more closely at the framed picture resting on a small end table. Three men were standing next to a wooden corral. All of them were rigged out in boots and chaps and hats. All were dark-haired, muscular and ruggedly handsome. No doubt Tucker Ketchum and his wife Amelia had been proud of their three sons.
“Which one is Hugh?” she asked.
“The one on the left. I don’t know if anyone told you, but he was gored to death by a bull about six years ago.”
Isabella nodded. “Neal mentioned it. Hugh’s widow, Maggie, lives here on T Bar K property, doesn’t she? I think you said something about your nephew living nearby.”
As she asked the question, she turned around to face him and was immediately relieved to see he was still wearing the jeans and yellow cotton shirt he’d had on earlier this afternoon. She’d sensed that he wouldn’t be one to dress for the evening meal, so she’d changed from her dress into a pair of black capri pants and a black sleeveless top.
His eyes slipped over her face, then downward to where her top V’d between her breasts before he finally met her gaze. “That’s right. Maggie is still single. She’s had a hard time getting over Hugh’s death.”
“What about you?” Isabella asked softly.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered impatiently. “That’s a stupid question. A man never gets over losing his brother. I think of Hugh every day. Sometimes several times a day.”
She suddenly thought of John and how she might react if something were to happen to him. It would devastate her to lose the only sibling she had. But on the other hand, there were times when days went by without her thinking about John. She supposed it might be different if the two of them were close. But they weren’t, and, she thought sadly, she doubted their relationship would ever change.
“So you two were close.”
Even though she’d stated a fact more than asked a question, Ross nodded and grinned. “Hugh was more like me than Seth ever was. Don’t get me wrong, I’m close to Seth, too. But he’s always been a lawman at heart. Hugh liked punching cattle and riding broncs. He was good at it, too. A damn sight better than me.”
The compliment to his late brother surprised Isabella. She’d expected Ross to be the sort that thought of himself as the best.
“I’m sorry Hugh’s not here to help you through this,” she said.
He looked at her, and she could feel his eyes traveling over her hair, which she’d let down from its braid and tied back with a black scarf.
I’m sure that cowboy thought you were very beautiful.
Faint color seeped into Isabella’s cheeks as her mother’s words suddenly waltzed through her mind. She had no idea whether Ross thought she was beautiful, but she did know he looked at her in a way that no man had before, a way that made her feel as though he could see right through her clothing.
“Hugh wouldn’t like what’s been happening on the ranch here lately,” Ross said, his expression suddenly