Isabella wondered how bad things would have to get before the Ranger was called in. Attempted murder to their brother-in-law wasn’t exactly a minor squabble. Aloud, she said, “Well, I hope it doesn’t become any worse than it already is.”
Grinning as though he didn’t have a worry in the world, Ross turned and walked to the other side of the room where a small bar quartered off one corner. “Would you like a drink before we go into dinner?”
“No. I don’t drink.”
“It doesn’t have to be alcoholic. You can have juice or a soft drink,” he offered.
“All right. Just make it small. I need to save room to try out Marina’s cooking.”
She moved toward the front of the room as he filled two glasses with crushed ice.
“You’re in for a treat,” Ross said. “Nobody can cook like Marina.”
After filling the squatty tumblers with cola, he carried them both to where she was standing by a huge picture window. Beyond the wide glass, dusk was falling, merging the shadows of the distant ranch yard. Lights streamed from the log bunkhouse and horses quietly milled in nearby pens. It was a heavenly sight.
“Twilight and a cowboy’s day is done,” he murmured.
She took the glass he offered and as she looked up at him, the contentment she found on his face revealed more to her about Ross Ketchum than anything he’d said so far.
The T Bar K wasn’t just a ranch or a job to him. It was his love, his life. Without it, he’d be a lost man. Just as she would be lost if she couldn’t fulfill her dream of helping her people.
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