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Tammy and the Doctor
Judy Duarte
Mike Sanchez can’t believe the sweet cowgirl he met at his father’s bedside has transformed into this stunning brunette.The dreamy doctor isn’t ready for a new romance, but Tammy Byrd’s quickly changing his mind. Amid explosive secrets and a certain legendary feather bed, Mike’s tempted to have and to hold Tammy in his arms forever…



Tammy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is something wrong, Doc?”
“Wrong? No.” Hell no. It’s just that he…Damn. “I didn’t recognize you at first, and it kind of…threw me for a loop, I guess.”
“It’s the dress.”
No, it was more than the dress—although the style and fabric certainly spotlighted the woman he’d failed to see before.
He probably ought to say something else, to comment about the new Tammy. But Mike was…dumbstruck. Awestruck. Maybe even a bit moonstruck.
Damn. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off little Tammy Byrd, who didn’t seem so little anymore—in spite of her short stature. She couldn’t be much taller than five foot one. Still Mother Nature had packed a whole lot of woman in her.
He couldn’t seem to do anything but gawk at her and stumble along in his thoughts. Of course, it was just the metamorphosis that had him amazed.
Wasn’t it?
Dear Reader,
Ever since my first Mills & Boon
Cherish
title hit the shelves in 2004, I dreamed of creating a series with my best friends and critique partners, Crystal Green and Sheri WhiteFeather. Crystal and Sheri had the same dream, and after a weekend retreat spent at Crystal’s house, we came up with the idea for BYRDS OF A FEATHER.
We set the stories on a cattle ranch in Buckshot Hills, Texas. Then we threw in a family feud, as well as an antique feather bed. According to family legend, the dreams had while sleeping in the antique bed are said to come true. Add a little romance to that intriguing mix, and you have all the makings for a great read.
I am so glad you chose tammy and the doctor, the first book in the series. As you turn the pages, you’ll meet Tammy Byrd, who was raised on a ranch by her single dad and two rough and tough older brothers.
When Tammy and her family are called to her dying grandfather’s bedside, she meets Dr Mike Sanchez, who turns the cowgirl’s heart every which way but loose. And while “Doc” hardly notices Tammy at first, she sets out to shake her tomboy image and become the woman of his dreams.
Happy reading!
Judy

About the Author
JUDY DUARTE always knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least favorite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.
Her dream became a reality in April 2004, when Mills & released her first book, Cowboy Courage. Boon
Cherish
Since then she has published more than twenty novels. Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July 2005 Judy won a prestigious Readers’ Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son.
Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous but delightfully close family.

Tammy and
the Doctor
Judy Duarte





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To the best friends and critique partners ever:
Crystal Green and Sheri WhiteFeather.
Where would I be without you?

Chapter One
There were a lot of things Tammy Byrd would rather be doing on a Saturday afternoon than driving five hours to meet a bunch of relatives she’d never met, but there was no way around it.
Her paternal grandfather was dying, and he’d called his estranged family home.
She supposed she ought to feel something after hearing of the poor man’s plight, like sadness, grief or compassion, but any kind of relationship with him had been lost to her, thanks to a falling-out he’d had with her father years ago.
Apparently, now that Jasper J. “Tex” Byrd was about to face his maker, he was going to try and make things right. At least, that’s how Tammy had it figured.
When she’d first heard of the old man’s request, she’d assumed her stubborn, my-way-or-the-highway daddy would have dug in his boot heels and refused to go. She’d also wondered what her dad would say when he learned that she was going to make the trek on her own.
But he’d blown her away by announcing he was going to make the trip and insisting that she and her brothers join him.
Whatever his reason, be it guilt, love or a need to set things to right, her father, who never took orders from anyone, had caved to the old man’s request.
Tammy’s brothers had been summoned, too, but they were fishing in a remote area of Montana and couldn’t be easily reached for at least several days, maybe a week. Still, she knew they’d be on the first flight they could find back to Texas. Family had always been important to them. Well, at least, their immediate family was.
Her father would be coming later, too. She supposed she could have waited until after he’d had his appointment for his annual physical and rode with him, but she’d wanted to have her own vehicle handy. Besides, she was intrigued by the whole idea of family feuds and secrets. So she’d packed her bag this morning, prepared to meet the rest of her family—a dying grandfather, an uncle and two cousins she’d never met. Then she’d slid behind the wheel of her little pickup and left her daddy’s ranch.
Five hours later, with the satellite radio tuned to a classic country-western station, an empty diet soda can in her cup holder and the printout of the directions on the seat beside her, she neared her final destination in Buckshot Hills.
She slowed as she reached a cluster of oak trees, which her father had told her to watch for, then searched for the sign that indicated she’d reached Flying B Road.
There it was, a bold wrought-iron-and-metallic creation that was as big as day—and as ornate as all getout.
Before she could turn off one road and onto the other, a black Dodge Ram pickup with mud flaps roared around her. As it passed, the left rear tire hit a mud puddle and shot a big splash of dirty water at her little white truck.
The jerk.
She was about to lay on the horn, but held back. After all, it might be one of the relatives, and there was no need to get off on a bad foot before they’d had a chance to meet face-to-face.
Realizing she’d have to wash the truck to get the bug spatters off the windshield, anyway, she shrugged off her annoyance and turned right onto the road that led to the ranch house.
As she drove, she scanned the rolling hills and the lush pastures dotted with grazing cattle. It was a beautiful piece of property, and she wondered what it would have been like growing up on a place like this, instead of back in Grass Valley, on the much smaller spread her daddy had inherited from her maternal grandfather.
When she neared the big, sprawling house, with a wraparound porch, she looked for a place to park her truck. Then she chose a spot next to the Dodge Ram.
A dark-haired man who appeared to be in his early thirties still sat in the driver’s seat, talking on his cell phone.
He was too young to be her uncle. Was he one of the cousins?
She pulled in beside him and shut off her ignition, just as he opened the driver’s door and climbed from the cab.
Unlike the cowboys or ranch hands she’d grown up with, he wore a pair of polished loafers, black slacks and a light blue button-down shirt. A thick head of dark hair and an olive complexion 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 him up, he said, “My boys and grandchildren agreed to come home. Did I tell you that, Doc?”
“You’d mentioned extending the invitation to them.”
Tex closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I wasn’t sure what they’d tell me. That blasted feud had gone on for so damn long, I figured they might not give a rip about me or the Flying B.”
“For what it’s worth,” Mike said, “I think one of them just arrived.”
A smile stretched across the old man’s craggy face, softening the age lines and providing a hint of color to his wan complexion. “Oh, yeah? Who’d you see?”
“I’m not sure. A girl—or rather a woman, I guess. She’s probably about twenty, with long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail of some kind. She was driving a little white pickup.”
“Was she all dolled up like a city girl? Or wearing pants like a tomboy?”
“She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. And she had on a pair of worn denim jeans and a blue flannel shirt.”
“Then that must be Tammy,” Tex said, his tired gray eyes lighting up. “She’s William’s girl. And quite the cowboy, I hear. She can outride, outrope and outspit the best of ’em.”
Mike wouldn’t know about that. The girl certainly appeared to be a tomboy, but she was also petite. He wasn’t sure if she could hold her own or not.
“I thought you told me that you’d never met your grandchildren,” Mike said.
The old man gave a single shrug. “I’ve seen pictures of them. But only because I hired a private investigator a few years back. And now…” He lifted an aged, work-roughened, liver-spotted hand and plopped it down on the mattress. “I’m glad that I did. It would have been tough finding them all with only a short time to do it.”
Tex only had a few weeks left to live, although it was always hard to guess just how long for sure. The rancher was a tough old bird. And he might just will himself to stay alive long enough to put his family back together again.
From what Mike had heard, there’d been some huge family blowup over thirty years ago. Both of Tex’s boys had taken off in anger, leaving the Flying B and Buck-shot Hills far behind. But no one seemed to know any more details than that. And Doc didn’t plan to stick around any longer than he had to, so none of it really mattered to him.
Tex took a deep, weary breath, then slowly let it out. He’d be needing oxygen soon, so Mike would place the order so it would be on hand.
“You know,” the old man said, “I wasn’t happy about switching doctors. I’d hoped Doc Reynolds would be back in Buckshot Hills by now. But you seem to know your stuff—at least, for a young fellow fresh out of medical school.”
Mike never planned to fill in for the local doctor who was being treated for a brain tumor in Boston. But then again, Mike had a debt to repay. And spending six to nine months in Podunk, Texas, appeared to be the only way he could do that.
Practicing medicine—or rather, “doctoring folks”—was a heck of a lot different in a small town than it was in the city, but he was learning the ropes and doing the best he could do without the high-tech labs and specialty hospitals nearby. And after nearly four months in Buckshot Hills, he was counting down the days until he could return to Philadelphia.
Mike had grown up there, and his mom still worked as a housekeeper for George Ballard, a very wealthy businessman, a widower who’d never had children. George had taken a liking to Mike’s mom. Not in a romantic sense, but he’d come to respect her work ethic, her integrity and her loyalty. And that had led to yearly bonuses and unexpected paid vacations.
When George had learned that Mike had been accepted to medical school, he’d offered to foot the bill.
It had been a generous offer, an amazing one. And Mike had vowed to pay him back. But George wouldn’t consider it. Instead, he’d said, “If I ever have need of a personal physician, I’ll expect you to drop everything and come to my aid.”
Of course, Mike had readily agreed, although he hadn’t realized how serious the guy had been about the terms of the debt. Or that his benefactor would eventually become romantically involved with a woman whose beloved uncle, Stanley Reynolds, was an ailing country doctor in Texas.
Without the new treatment for a brain tumor that was only available at a specialized clinic on the east coast, Dr. Reynolds would die. But he’d refused to leave his patients in Buckshot Hills without medical care for the extended period of time his treatment was expected to take.
So George had called in the favor, asking Mike to spend the first six months after his residency covering for Dr. Reynolds.
While disappointed at the assignment—after all, Buckshot Hills was a far cry from the city life he loved or the plans and dreams he’d made—Mike had agreed. He just hoped that, when his debt had been paid, the offer he’d received from a top-notch medical group in Philadelphia would still be available to him.
But he supposed he shouldn’t complain. A lot of doctors were strapped with huge student loans, and he wasn’t.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Tex said. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, but not until late afternoon or early evening.” Mike reached out a hand to his patient, leaving him with a parting shake. “Call me if you need anything between now and then.”
“Will do. Thanks, Doc.”
As Mike left Tex, he headed down the hall past several bedrooms that had been prepared for the Byrd homecoming. As he made his way to the living room, he spotted Tex’s granddaughter seated on the leather sofa. He’d pretty much passed over her earlier, so he decided to make an effort to be more polite before he left.
“Tammy?” he asked.
Her lips parted, and her eyes, the color of the summer sky, widened. “Yes?”
He reached out a hand to greet her. “We weren’t introduced earlier. But I’m Dr. Mike Sanchez, your grandfather’s physician.”
She stood, brushed her hand against her denim-clad hip then gave him a customary shake. Her grip held a surprising strength for a petite woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Doc.”
Tex had called her a tomboy, and he’d had that right, although cowgirl seemed more like it. Either way, she certainly didn’t put much stock in lotions, makeup or perfume. He caught the clean scent of bar soap and shampoo, but the fragrance was more generic than anything.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“About the same as yesterday. He tires easily. And he’s uncomfortable at times.”
She nodded, as if trying to take it all in, to make sense of the cancer that had consumed his once strong body.
According to what Tex had told Mike, he’d never met his grandchildren. So he wondered how they’d taken the news of his terminal illness. Did they grieve for what they could have had, if the family hadn’t been prone to holding grudges?
Or were they more interested in an inheritance?
He supposed it didn’t matter. It really wasn’t any of his business. He was just here to make sure Tex was as comfortable as he could be.
“It was nice of you to drive out here to see him,” Tammy said. “Our doctor back in Weldon makes us come to his office in town. In fact, most of us learned how to do a lot of the doctoring ourselves, just so we didn’t have to drive twenty miles.”
Mike hadn’t planned to make house calls, as was the custom of the doctor before him. But he made an exception for a couple of patients, including Tex Byrd, who’d refused to be hospitalized in Granite Falls, a larger town about thirty miles away.
“Your grandfather is a stubborn man,” Mike said. “He wouldn’t have any medical care at all if I didn’t make the trip out here.”
Mike had also promised Stanley Reynolds that he’d look over his patients as if they were Mike’s own family members—an agreement he’d made as part of the debt repayment plan.
So here he was.
Tammy bit down on her bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What’s he like?” Her eyes were an almost dazzling shade of blue. And the way she was looking at him right now, as if he held all the answers she’d ever need, was a little humbling.
Mike reminded himself that she’d never met the man and that her curiosity was to be expected. So he told her what he knew—or what he’d heard. “He’s a hard worker. And as honest as the day is long. He’s a bit testy, though. Rumor has it he’s been that way for years.”
Tex, who was in his late seventies, was actually one of the most ornery, cantankerous old men Mike had ever met. But he was also a real hoot at times, and Mike couldn’t help admiring him for a lot of reasons—his work ethic, his gumption and his desperate efforts to bring his family home before his death.
“He’s a good man,” Mike added. “One you can be proud of. He’s also well-respected in the community.”
“Thanks. I’m…” She bit down on her bottom lip again, then looked up at him with those amazing eyes. “Well, I guess you could say I’m a bit nervous.”
“That’s understandable.”
She straightened, drawing herself up to her full height, which couldn’t be much more than five feet. “I don’t usually admit stuff like that, but you being a doctor and all…” Her cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink, which was at odds with the masculine clothing she wore and her tough-guy stance.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Mike said. Then he gave her a little wink and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s probably only fair to tell you that I think your grandpa is a little nervous about meeting you, too.”
She smiled and blinked—once, twice, a third time.
If Mike didn’t know better, he’d think she was giving him one of those flirty southern-belle eye flutters. But it couldn’t be that. Maybe she was blinking back tears.
She might have even gotten a speck of dust or something in her eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I…uh…” She swiped her hand across one eye, rubbing it. “I’m fine. It was just a stray lash. That’s all.”
At that moment, Tina returned to the living room carrying a mug and a blueberry muffin balanced on a small plate. “You’re not leaving, are you, Doc?”
“I have to get back to the office. I also have a couple more patients to see on the way, too.”
Tina handed the cup and plate to him. “Then why don’t you take this with you?”
“Thanks.” He took the coffee and muffin. “I’ll bring back the dishes when I return.”
“Are you coming back tomorrow?” the housekeeper asked.
“Yes, but probably not until the dinner hour. I hope that’ll be all right.”
“No problem whatsoever,” Tina said. “We’re just glad that you’re willing to drive out here to see Tex. I’ll let Barbara know to set an extra plate at the table.”
Mike thanked her, then turned to Tammy. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Same here.” Her gaze snared his, as if she’d set her sights on him and wasn’t about to let go.
He could be wrong about that, though. And he certainly hoped that he was. All he needed was for his patient’s granddaughter to start crushing on him.
Little Tammy Byrd might have the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, but Mike wasn’t interested in romance—especially in a place like Buckshot Hills. And even if by some strange twist of Fate he got involved with one of the local women, it sure as hell wouldn’t be a cowgirl.

Chapter Two
As Dr. Sanchez left the house, Tammy watched him go.
Darn it! Clearly, her attempts at flirting had failed yet again. What was she doing wrong?
“Can I get you something to drink, Miss Byrd? Coffee’s fresh. We also have some lemonade or ice tea.”
Tammy turned to Tina, the housekeeper, who’d shown her to the guestroom in which she’d be staying and must have been waiting for her to settle in and then return to the main part of the house.
“Lemonade sounds great,” Tammy said. “Thank you.”
The woman nodded, then left Tammy alone in the spacious living room.
So now what? Should she sit down on the leather sofa again? Or would she be out of line if she wandered around the room, checking out the furnishings and trying to get a handle on the old man who called the Flying B home?
As Tina’s footsteps faded into silence, Tammy crossed the room to the bay window and peered outside, beyond the porch, to see if anyone else had arrived while she’d been putting away her things in the bedroom she’d been assigned.
The Dodge Ram was gone, of course, which was too bad. She would have liked spending some time with Doc and getting to know him a little better.
She’d expected to meet a bunch of new family members, each one bringing a unique personality and mindset to the mix. But she hadn’t been prepared to run in to the handsome doctor making a house call.
Boy howdy, was Doc Sanchez a sight for sore eyes.
When he’d finally introduced himself, a rush of hormones had slammed into her, taking her breath away. She’d never felt anything like it. Even if she let her thoughts roll all the way back to grade school, when the kids teased her and called her Tam-boy, she couldn’t come up with a single fellow who’d set her heart on end.
Yet in one brief moment, Mike Sanchez, also known as Doc, had swept her off her booted little feet.
At least, that’s what it felt like to a woman inexperienced in that sort of thing. And to be honest, it left her a little unbalanced.
Tammy didn’t get flustered too easily, since she usually kept to herself and didn’t pay any mind to mingling, or cultivating new relationships—male or female. And there was a good reason for it, too. Women didn’t seem to find her worth talking to, and men never took her seriously until she showed them her mettle.
But meeting Doc had her reevaluating a few things she’d once thought were carved in stone. It also had her doing things she’d never expected to do—like trying to let him know that she was sweet on him, although it hadn’t worked out too well.
Why in Sam Hill had she tried to flutter her lashes at him?
Talk about awkward and out-of-step.
When Doc had asked if she was okay, her cheeks had burned as hot as the asphalt at high noon in mid-August, and she hadn’t known quite what to say or how to recover her pride.
After that disappointing experience in high school, she’d quit trying to get a guy’s attention—well, not unless she was trying to outdo him at something. And meeting Doc, feeling that rush of hormones, hadn’t been one of those times.
When it was all said and done, she doubted she could best him at anything. Or if she’d even want to.
“Here you go,” Tina said, offering Tammy a glass of lemonade and a napkin to go with it.
“Thank you.”
“I know you’re probably interested in meeting your grandfather, but he just had his medication. I checked on him a few moments ago, and he’s asleep.”
“That’s okay. I can wait.”
Tina clasped her hands in front of her. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?”
“No, ma’am. I’m good.”
Tina nodded, then turned and walked away—heading to the kitchen, Tammy guessed. And that was fine with her. She didn’t like making small talk with people she didn’t know. So she used the time to study the brightly colored southwestern artwork hanging on the walls and to check out the various sculptures and knickknacks that adorned the built-in bookshelf to the right of the hearth.
All the while, she sipped her lemonade, drinking it down. Boy, did that hit the spot.
When she’d finished it, she glanced at the empty glass, wondering what she ought to do with it. Maybe she should return it to the kitchen. So she crossed the living room, heading in the same direction Tina had gone.
As she neared a doorway, the sound of whispers caused her to pause. She listened, overhearing the housekeeper say something about the “family rift.”
Unable to help herself, she stepped aside and leaned against the wall, next to the doorjamb.
“To tell you the truth,” Tina said, her voice low, “I’d given up thinking either of those boys would ever return to the Flying B.”
“I know what you mean,” the other woman said. “After nearly thirty-five years, there’s been too much water under the bridge.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll never forget the day it happened. The awful words they said to each other. The anger…” Tina clicked her tongue.
Tammy stood still, not daring to go closer, not wanting to stop the conversation from unfolding.
“Poor Tex,” the other woman said. “All the family he had left in the world was those two boys. And to think that they would both run off and leave him like that.”
But why? Tammy wondered. Her father had never said, other than to imply there was bad blood between them.
“At least they both came back before it was too late,” Tina added.
“They haven’t returned yet. And after being so stubborn for so long, I suppose anything could happen.”
Tammy’s father had told her he would arrive at the ranch late this afternoon. He wouldn’t back out now, would he?
She leaned closer to the open doorway, trying her best to hear more, to learn more.
Her father and her uncle had been at odds with each other and with Grandpa Byrd, too, which was why she’d never met her other family members. But she’d never heard any of the details. In fact, up until today, she’d never cared enough to ask.
But now her curiosity was mounting with each beat of her heart.
What had caused the rift? And why had it lasted so long?
She waited for several minutes, but the voices stilled, as if the conversation had just vaporized.
When it became clear that neither the housekeeper nor the cook would bring up the subject of the family feud again, Tammy stepped away from the wall she’d been leaning against and entered the bright and sunny kitchen with her empty glass in hand.
“The lemonade was great,” she said, addressing the housekeeper while scanning the spacious room with its old-style gingham curtains and modern appliances. “Where should I put this?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Byrd.” Tina got up from her seat at a polished, dark oak table. “I should have picked up that glass for you.”
“I don’t mind picking up after myself. And please call me Tammy.” She offered a smile, hoping that striking up a friendship of sorts with the household help would provide her with the details she wanted to know.
“All right. Then Tammy it is.” Tina took the glass from her and turned to a short, heavyset woman who was peeling potatoes at the sink. “Barbara, this is William’s youngest.”
The matronly cook, her hair tinted a coppery shade of red, her cheeks rosy and plump, reached for a paper towel. After drying her pudgy hands, she reached out to Tammy. “It’s nice to meet you, honey. Is your daddy coming?”
“He sure is.” Tammy accepted the handshake, hoping she was telling the truth and that her father would follow through as planned. “In fact, he should be here before dark.”
Both women glanced at each other, their gazes making a quick and intimate connection, before turning their focus back on Tammy and offering nods and smiles.
“That’s good news,” Tina said. “I haven’t seen your daddy since he left for college.”
What? No mention of the family argument? The angry words thrown at each other? The night it—whatever it was—had happened?
Hadn’t the women said both boys had run off, leaving Tex alone for almost thirty-five years?
If Tammy had known either of the women a little better, she would have quizzed them further. As it was, she’d let it go—at least, for now.
But come hell or high water, she was going to get to the bottom of it. And she would start by cornering her father as soon as he arrived.
Sure enough, William Travis Byrd arrived at the Flying B just as the sun was setting.
Tammy, who’d been gazing out the big bay window in the living room, was on her feet and out the door before he could turn off the ignition of the restored 1975 Pontiac Trans Am he’d owned for as long as any of his three kids could remember.
The classic vehicle only had 27,000 miles on it and looked as though it had just rolled off the assembly line, with its original camel-tan cloth interior and spiffy gold paint, including the firebird on the hood. Needless to say, the V-8 sports car was William Byrd’s pride and joy, so Tammy was more than a little surprised to see that he’d driven it all this distance, when he usually kept it in a garage back at the family ranch in Grass Valley.
Had he left the Flying B in that same car on that fateful day? If so, had he decided to return the same way—just as angry, just as stubborn, just as determined to hold a grudge?
“Hey,” she said, as she stepped off the porch. “How was the drive?”
Her dad shut the driver’s door. “Not bad. How was yours?”
“It was good—easy and quiet.”
Her dad nodded at the house. “What’s going on in there?”
“Not much. I haven’t met Tex—or rather my grandfather—yet. Right before I got here, he took some pain medication, so they tell me he’s sleeping.”
Her dad, his once blond hair faded to gray, tensed. Did it bother him to know that Tex was hurting…and badly? That he truly was dying?
Tammy couldn’t imagine why it wouldn’t. Why else would he have come back to the Flying B?
Once she crossed the yard and reached his side, she broached the question that had been burning inside her ever since she’d arrived. “I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
She folded her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one leg. “What caused that falling-out you had with your dad and brother?”
His lips tightened, and his brow furrowed. Yet he didn’t respond.
About the time she figured he wouldn’t, he said, “My brother did something unforgivable. And my father was in cahoots.”
“What did he do?”
For a 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 to mention as awkward as all get-out.”
Donna looked up from her plate, her eyebrows arched. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Jenna nodded her agreement.
So they were all feeling the same thing—and probably just as curious about what had created all the ill feelings.
“Do either of you know anything about that falling-out?” Tammy asked.
“I’m afraid not, but I’ve always been curious.” Jenna glanced at her sister, then back to Tammy. “I knew we had an uncle and a grandfather, but that’s about it. My dad never talked about his childhood or life on the Flying B.”
“Neither did mine,” Tammy said. “I asked about it a couple of times, but he refused to answer.” Tammy decided not to mention the talk she’d had with her dad just a few hours ago—or the revelation that Jenna and Donna’s father had done something “unforgivable.”
“Maybe we’ll hear more about it at that family ‘pow-wow’ we’re supposed to have,” Jenna said.
Tammy didn’t know about that. “After thirty-five years of silence, it’s hard to imagine any of those involved opening up.”
“That’s too bad.” Jenna lifted her napkin and blotted her lips. “Having an unsolved family problem can affect other relationships down the road.”
She was probably right, although it hadn’t seemed to affect Tammy’s father or his one and only relationship. Her parents had been happily married—at least, that’s what she’d heard.
“Our parents divorced when we were young,” Donna said. “And our dad never remarried.”
“We lived with our mother until we were eight and ten,” Jenna added. “And when Mom died, we moved in with our dad. By that time, I just assumed that we’d never be close with the Byrd side of the family. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
Until Tex Byrd had called the family home, Tammy hadn’t given that side of her family a whole lot of thought. And even now, she wasn’t so sure she’d like her relatives, although Jenna and Donna seemed okay.
Donna didn’t appear to be as forthright as her sister. In fact, the two didn’t seem to be especially close. But what did Tammy know about them—or about having relationships with other women?
When it came right down to it, she didn’t have a single thing in common with either of her cousins—other than some shared DNA.
Well, that and the fact they’d lost their mother, too.
“I never knew my mama,” Tammy admitted. “She died when I was two, so my dad raised me on his own.”
“I’m sorry to hear you lost your mother so young,” Jenna said. “A father doesn’t always understand what it’s like to be a girl growing up to be a woman.”
That’s for sure. Tammy smiled. “I guess that’s why it was easier not to even try to be a lady.”
Oh, no. Had she really said that? Out loud?
“I mean,” Tammy said in an attempt to explain herself, “who needs high heels and prom dresses, anyway?”
She’d never really missed the goofy adolescent glamour. Well, not until this very moment in time, when she realized that neither Jenna nor Donna would have a lick of trouble getting Doc’s attention when he showed up at the ranch tomorrow.
And now look at her—trying to reach out and befriend two women who’d probably always be strangers to her. But something told her that Doc wouldn’t give a flying leap about how good she was with a lasso, so she was going to have to learn the ropes of being a woman.
And she knew just the women who could offer her some helpful feminine hints, if they were willing. After all, they were older and wiser when it came to that sort of thing.
But could she lay her heart and soul on the line? Would they even care if she did?
They seemed friendly enough, but they really didn’t know her. And when it was all said and done, when Tex Byrd called them all together and had his say, they’d probably head back to wherever it was they hailed from and never hear from each other again. So she couldn’t very well expect them to feel any family loyalty or be inclined to do her any favors.
Or would they?
Aw, heck. Just toss it right out there, Tammy Kay. Tell ’em that you’re in need of a little help learning how to apply makeup and to style your hair in something other than a braid or a ponytail.
Maybe they’d even agree to go shopping with her for a dress. Her heart spun at the possibility of doing something other women did all the time—going to stores, trying on clothes and taking part in a little girl talk. Then going home and dolling up for the first time in her life.
But it wasn’t just the feminine camaraderie that she found appealing. It was the results of it that set her imagination soaring.
What if she did more than catch Doc’s eye? What if he went so far as to ask her out on a date?
Her heart slipped into a zippity-do-dah beat.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to do anything other than spear a chunk of potato and stuff it into her mouth.
What if her cousins laughed at her, or called her a tomboy and told her to take a hike, or refused to let her in on their secrets? Or, worse than that, if they just passed her by as if she didn’t matter at all? She wouldn’t bounce back from the rejection as quickly as she had in the past.
As it was, she’d be leaning on her own feminine wiles tomorrow—as scary as that was. Because, come hell or high water, she’d snag Doc’s attention.
She just hoped it would be in a good way. Because going on a date with Doc Sanchez was one romantic dream she didn’t want to see crash and burn.

Chapter Three
Before turning in last night, Tammy had explored the ranch house and discovered it wasn’t just spacious. It was enormous.
There were two matching wings, each with four bedrooms, two of which were masters with private baths. The other two were much smaller and shared a single guest bathroom down the hall. Apparently, the girls were staying in the main wing, along with Tex.
The household help, which included Tina Crandall, the housekeeper, and Barbara Eyler, the cook, lived in the south wing in the two large rooms. Since the guest bathroom in that second wing was having plumbing problems, the men had been assigned one of several cabins within walking distance of the house.
Either way, Tammy hadn’t cared where she slept…until she woke up this morning and learned that having to share a bathroom had become a real inconvenience.
Now, as she sat on the edge of the bed listening to the sound of water flowing through the pipes, she glanced again at the clock on the bureau. How much longer would she have to wait to use the shower?
Rather than twiddle her thumbs or pace the floor until the water hog finally decided to come out, she slipped into the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday and went to the kitchen, hoping she could get a cup of coffee—another of her morning habits that allowed her to start the day fresh and wide-awake.
As she crossed the living room, her bare feet padding across the hardwood floor, she savored the hearty aroma of bacon as it sizzled in a frying pan, as well as the welcome smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Her stomach growled in anticipation, so she picked up her pace.
When she entered the kitchen, she spotted Barbara standing at the counter, stirring batter in a large yellow mixing bowl.
“Good morning,” Tammy said. “Do you need any help?”
The short, heavyset woman turned and smiled. “Thanks for the offer, honey, but I’ve got it all under control.”
Back home on her father’s ranch, preparing meals was Tammy’s job. So it felt a little weird letting someone do all the work and serve her for a change.
“You’re up early,” Barbara said, as she set the batter aside.
Not really. The morning sun had already risen, so Tammy felt like a bit of a slug.
“I wanted to take a shower before coming into the main part of the house,” she said, “but someone beat me to it.”
And that someone was taking way too long—at least ten minutes and still going strong.
If Tammy were to ever lollygag in the bathroom, she’d get chewed out—if not left behind—so she’d learned how to take quick showers. But ten whole minutes?
How in blazes could anyone have gone to bed so dirty that they needed that much soap and water?
“By the way,” Barbara said, as she reached into the pantry for a bottle of oil, “your father stayed in one of the cabins last night, but he came through here about thirty minutes ago. It was good to see him again after all these years, but he didn’t stick around long enough to chat. He just grabbed a cup of coffee and went back outside again. He said he was checking things out.”
That’s what he’d said to Tammy yesterday, but she had a feeling it was more likely that he was avoiding the house and everyone in it. But Tammy didn’t see any reason to defend his actions, especially when he’d refused to let her in on any of the details of that family blowup.
“How about some coffee?” Barbara asked as she reached into the cupboard and pulled out a solid white mug.
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
“How do you take it? Black?”
“Cream and sugar, please.”
Barbara chuckled. “I’ll never understand why people insist upon ruining a perfectly good cup of java by watering it down or doctoring it up.”
The thought of doctoring anything, even a cup of coffee, made Tammy think about Mike Sanchez, her grandfather’s personal physician. There was so much she wanted to know about him, although she hated to come right out and ask. After all, she didn’t want anyone to know she was…
Well, she wasn’t sure what to call her curiosity and all those girlish emotions that swirled around it. She supposed she was smitten with him.
Who would have believed it?
Certainly not her father or her older brothers.
Tammy took a seat at the table and watched as Barbara prepared the coffee for her, feeling a bit like a bug on the underside of a log.
When Barbara handed her the coffee, Tammy thanked her, then took the mug, holding it with both hands and watching the steam curl up and over the rim.
Before the silence ate away at her, she asked, “How’s Tex doing this morning?”
“He slept well, or so he said.”
“That’s good to hear.” Tammy tried to think of an easy way to bring up Doc’s name and slide it right into the conversation, but she really couldn’t. So she’d have to work it in. “I was just wondering…I mean, I realize Tex is under a doctor’s care. In fact, I met the guy yesterday, but he seemed kind of…young. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” Barbara stooped, opened a cupboard near the stove and pulled out a big cast-iron skillet. “But he came highly recommended from the hospital where he interned.”
“Do you think he’s…any good?” Tammy waited a beat before tossing out her only real question. “What do you know about him?”
“He’s definitely competent,” Barbara said, “if that’s what you’re talking about.”
No, that wasn’t what Tammy was getting at. She wanted to know more about the man behind the stethoscope. Where did he come from? What did he do for fun?
“For what it’s worth,” Barbara added, “Doc Reynolds wouldn’t have let anyone who didn’t know his stuff cover for him while he’s out getting treatment for his illness.”
Tammy continued to hold her mug with both hands, weighing her words, taking care not to be too obvious. “Is Dr. Sanchez from Buckshot Hills?”
“No, he just moved here a few months ago—maybe four. He’s from someplace back east. Philadelphia, I think.”
Tammy took a lazy sip of coffee, relishing the sweet, creamy taste.
“Buckshot Hills is a far cry from the big city,” she said.
“That’s for sure.” Barbara poured a splash of vegetable oil into the skillet, then turned the flame on low.
“Does he have family out here?” Tammy hoped and prayed that he didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend.
“I don’t think so. But to be honest, I really don’t know much about him, other than Tex likes him, and he visits daily. He also seems to have a good bedside manner.”
The thought of Doc standing at the side of her bed sent Tammy’s thoughts hurtling in a dangerous direction. But before she could quiz the ranch cook any further, footsteps sounded in the doorway.
Tammy looked up to see Jenna entering the kitchen, fresh from the shower, her blond hair brushed in a soft, feminine style.
“Good morning,” Barbara said. “Can I get you some coffee, Jenna? Or maybe some OJ? It’s fresh-squeezed.”
“Orange juice sounds good. Thank you, Barbara.”
Tammy tried not to stare too hard at the willowy woman who was wearing jeans again today—a different pair, since they were a lighter shade of blue than the ones she’d had on yesterday.
“I know the Flying B is a cattle ranch,” Jenna said, “but I noticed quite a few horses in the corral near the barn. Who takes care of them?”
“Last I heard, Caleb Granger.” Barbara poured Jenna a glass of juice, then handed it to her. “Why?”
“No reason.”
Barbara returned her attention to the pancakes cooking in the skillet, as if she’d thought Jenna’s question had come out of the blue. But Tammy suspected there’d been a reason behind it and decided not to let it slip by the wayside.
“Do you like horses?” she asked her cousin.
“Yes, I do. In fact, I’m a certified riding instructor.”
“No kidding?” Tammy sat up straight. Maybe she had more in common with her cousin than she’d thought.
Well, at least they both shared a fondness for horses, ranches and blue jeans.
“Has anything more been said about that family meeting?” Jenna asked.
“Not that I know of.” Barbara used a spatula to remove several pancakes from the skillet. “I’m sure Tex will wait until everyone has arrived.”
“Did my father get here yet?” Jenna asked.
“I haven’t seen him.” Barbara dropped a dollop of batter onto the hot skillet. “How many hotcakes do you girls want?”
“If you don’t mind,” Jenna said, “I’d rather have one of those leftover blueberry muffins and take it with me.”
Take it with her?
“Where are you going?” Tammy asked her cousin.
“Just out for a walk. I’d like to see the ranch.”
So would Tammy. And she was tempted to ask Jenna if she wanted company, but she held back. Her cousin had been friendly last night. And she was being nice now.
Why push herself on the woman? Tammy had learned early on how badly something like that was likely to go, how awkward. Way back in high school she’d made the mistake of approaching a popular group of girls.
She could still hear their giggles and see their smirks.
“You know,” Tammy said, as she got to her feet, “I’d better take a shower now before your sister beats me to it.”
“Donna’s probably already showered and holed up in her room working,” Jenna said. “But you never know… .”
Tammy nodded, then carried her mug to the sink, not wanting to take any chances.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she told her cousin. “Have a nice walk.”
“Thanks.”
As Barbara offered Jenna a plate of muffins, Tammy returned to her bedroom for a pair of clean jeans and a shirt. Then she took them into the bathroom, which was still a little damp and steamy. After locking the door, she turned on the spigot to the shower and waited for the water to heat. As she did so, she removed her clothes.
When she was as naked as a jaybird—and a lot more womanly than most folks would guess—she stepped under the nozzle and let the water jet over her from top to bottom, wetting her hair as it hung along her back.
For a moment, she relished the warmth of the spray. Then she turned slowly, planning to reach for a bar of soap. Instead, she spotted several plastic bottles sitting on the tiled shelf inside the shower stall.
She lifted each one and read the labels, noting shampoo, conditioner and body wash.
As the water continued to sluice over her, Tammy opened each lid, taking a whiff of the girly scent of flowers.
Not bad. In fact, it was kind of nice—and certainly not her usual smell. Tammy showered as often as the next person, but she always used the generic stuff.
Unable to help herself, she squeezed out a dab of shampoo, then applied it to her wet head, hoping her cousin wouldn’t mind.
As she rinsed the long, silky strands, she wondered if she ought to skip the rubber band and wear her long hair loose today.
Sure. Why not?
After she rinsed and dried off, she put on her clean clothes. Then she opened the bathroom door and allowed the dry air to chase away the steam.
Once she could see herself in the mirror again, she spotted a familiar yet very different woman staring back at her, her facial expression revealing how uneasy she felt at the unmasking.
But why wouldn’t she be? Tammy had never known her mama, so she’d grown up in a man’s world, making her way the best she could. And up until today—or rather, yesterday—she’d been happy with the strides she’d made.
But not now. Not when being a lady seemed more important than it ever had before—and far more important than trying to prove herself equal to the men in her family.
She stooped and opened the cupboard under the sink and found a handheld blow-dryer, which was still warm from use. She wondered if Jenna would mind if she borrowed it. But since Jenna had gone outside to explore the ranch, Tammy couldn’t very well ask her permission.
Again she gave in to temptation. Her brush was in her purse in the bedroom, so she used her hands to dry and style the soft curls. When she’d done the best she could, she looked over her work. She definitely saw an improvement. But would it be enough?
Maybe she ought to talk to Jenna as soon as she returned from her walk. If her cousin agreed to give her a few pointers about hair—and even clothes or makeup—Tammy would feel a lot more confident when Doc arrived.
And then maybe she’d snag his attention and put a few stars in his eyes, too.
It was almost eight o’clock in the morning when Mike left town and drove out to the Flying B. He hadn’t meant to visit Tex until late this afternoon, but he’d had second thoughts on his way back to the office yesterday and had decided to return earlier than he’d planned.
Tex hadn’t gone into any detail about the old family feud, but Dr. Reynolds had told Mike about the old man’s insistence upon making things right before he passed. And in Tex’s condition, the stress of meeting new family members during an emotional and trying time could end up being too much for him.
Mike wouldn’t allow himself to get personally involved with any of the Buckshot Hills residents. After all, he’d only be in town long enough to do his job and to pay his debt to his benefactor. Then he would fly home to Philadelphia, where he hoped the position with the Riverview Medical Group was still available.
But in spite of his determination to maintain a professional distance from the locals, Mike couldn’t help sympathizing with Tex Byrd. The man was dying—and he wouldn’t last much longer.
If Tex lived someplace else, in a bigger town or a city where hospice was readily available, Mike would have set it up the first day he’d looked over the old man’s chart.
Yet it wasn’t the rancher’s terminal diagnosis that caused Mike to feel for him. It was his resolve to set things right within his family before he died.
Had Tex called that meeting last night? If so, Mike wondered what had happened. How was Tex faring today? Was he in more pain? Was he distressed?
As Mike turned onto the county road and headed for the Flying B, he thought about the family members who’d gathered, as well as the stragglers who’d yet to arrive yesterday afternoon.
Were they eager to put an end to the feud? Or were they more interested in the old man’s will and the division of his assets?
It was hard to say. Sometimes death brought out the worst in people.
Engagement rings did that, too.
His thoughts shifted to Katrina Willis and the blowup they’d had before he’d left Philadelphia. So much for true love, he supposed. But it was probably for the best. They’d had different plans for the future.
Katrina had called him on his cell phone last night, telling him she’d had a change of heart and that she wanted to come out to see him in Texas, maybe even stay with him. But Mike wasn’t about to agree to something like that. Katrina would hate the small-town life, and he’d be miserable if he had to listen to her complaints for the next couple of weeks.
Hell, being in Buckshot Hills was difficult enough for him. Even in his wildest dreams he’d never expected to live in a place like this—albeit temporarily.
But he shook off the thoughts. Katrina was out of the picture. Mike only had himself and his mother to worry about now.
Unlike Tex Byrd, Mike’s mom didn’t have any real assets to divvy up. But that didn’t matter. She’d been a loving, supportive mother, and because of that, Mike’s childhood had been happy.
He might have grown up poor and somewhat disadvantaged—at least, until she’d gone to work for George Ballard and their financial situation had improved—but once he’d seen the good life, first through George and then through Katrina and some of his college roommates, he was determined to create that lifestyle for himself, as well as for his mother, who’d worked her tail off to raise him on her own. She deserved to finally retire and do some of the things she’d only dreamed about in the past, and Mike would soon be able to provide them for her.
Well, that is, he’d provide them once he got out of Buckshot Hills.
Up ahead, he spotted Flying B Road and reached for his turn signal. He sure hoped his patient was holding up okay—and that the plans to set things right within the family hadn’t blown up in his face.
After Tammy had dried her hair, leaving it in a wild array of curls, she pondered the idea of going outside to look for Jenna. She’d gotten as far as the wraparound porch, but had chickened out and returned to the house.
As a teenager, she’d learned not to let the girls—or the boys, for that matter—know that she felt the least bit insecure about anything.
And something told her becoming an adult hadn’t changed things very much.
So instead, she went back into the living room and headed down the hall until she reached the entrance to Tex’s room. For the longest time, she stood at the door, her hand poised to knock, fear and pride holding her back.
Would she be out of line approaching him before he’d asked to see her?
Oh, what the heck. She rapped lightly a couple of times, then waited until an old man’s voice said, “Come in. It ain’t locked.”
Tammy turned the knob, then entered the large bedroom where a long, lanky man lay on the bed, his face craggy, his head of thick white hair propped up on several pillows.
“I…uh…” She bit down on her bottom lip, then pressed on. “I hope I’m not bothering you, sir. But I was eager to meet you, and I thought I’d introduce myself.”
“You must be Tammy, William’s daughter.”
She admitted she was, then eased closer to the bed. “How did you know who I was? There are three of us girls here.”
He gave a little shrug. “I have my ways of keeping tabs on my boys and their families.”
So what exactly did he know about them? Or, more specifically, about her?
“Don’t just stand there, girl.” He pointed toward the chair near his bed. “Have a seat.”
“All right.”
After doing as he asked, she decided to take the bull by the horns by coming right out and quizzing him about the family rift.
Before she could get the words out, he said, “You’re a pretty little thing, Tammy.”
No one had ever called her pretty before. Sure, they mentioned her expressive eyes and praised the color. But pretty? No way.
“You look a lot like your grandma did,” he said. “Her hair was dark like yours. And her eyes were nearly the same shade of blue.”
“Do you have any photographs of her?” Tammy asked, curious about the woman and wondering if her look-alike had really been pretty. “If you do, I’d like to see them.”
“I don’t have as many as I would have liked, but I’ll make sure you get at least one or two to keep.” He gazed at Tammy for a moment, and a slow, wistful smile crossed his face, softening the wrinkles. “Ella Rose was a tomboy, too.”
“A cowgirl, you mean?”
“I suppose so. But that little woman could turn a man inside out with a single smile. And it didn’t matter if she was wearing denim or silk.”
Tammy might have been more impressed with the woman’s skill as a cowgirl if she hadn’t just met a man who’d been able to turn her inside out with a smile.
“Your grandma died when the twins were in kindergarten,” Tex added.
The twins? She’d known her father had a brother, but she hadn’t realized they’d shared the same birthday. Dang. Didn’t twins have some kind of weird, psychic connection, even when separated at birth?
If so, then the one William Travis and Sam Houston Byrd shared must be faulty.
Before she could comment or press Tex for more details, a couple of light knocks sounded at the door.
Her grandfather shifted in his bed, then grimaced. “Who is it?”
“Mike Sanchez.”
Doc? Tammy’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach with a thud, then thumped and pumped its way back up where it belonged.
“Come on in,” Tex said.
Thank goodness her grandfather issued the invitation because she couldn’t have squawked out a single word, let alone managed to get up and open the door herself.

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