Her Texas Lawman. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
It’s just a little cut on the head. Is Marti inside or at the guesthouse?” She glanced around him to the double door entrance of the house. If her eleven-year-old son, Marti, spotted the official sheriff vehicle in the driveway, he’d be outside in a split second to investigate. Lucita wasn’t keen about him seeing her in such a state. The boy had already been through enough traumas these past three years without him knowing his mother had nearly lost her life.
“Neither. He and Gracia are up at the big house playing some sort of card game with Aunt Geraldine.”
“Good,” she said, relieved. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
Matt whipped an accusing look at the deputy. “Ripp, what the hell did you bring her here for? She needs to be in the emergency room!”
Ripp grimaced. He’d expected this from Matt. And no doubt Mingo would be just as appalled to see his daughter battered and bleeding. The Sanchez men were one of the reasons he’d decided to personally deliver Lucita here to the ranch. Several years ago, Mingo had gone out of his way to help Ripp get the job of Chief Deputy for Sheriff Travers. As for Matt, he’d become a friend to Ripp while in high school and that friendship had deepened over the years. During that time he’d not met Lucita, but now he definitely wished he had.
“Your sister is just as bullheaded as you are, Matt. She refused an ambulance. Said her cousin would sew her up if need be.”
“Luci, there are times to be tough, and then there’re times you need to accept help! When are you ever going to learn that?” Matt gently scolded before grabbing his sister by the arm and hurrying her toward the house. “You lucked out tonight, sis. Nicci and Ridge just happened to come back with us after supper and they’re still here.” He looked over to Ripp. “Come in, Ripp. You can tell me what happened while Nicci sees to Luci’s injury.”
Nodding, Ripp followed the two siblings inside the big, two-story house. Compared to Ripp’s little bungalow on the outskirts of Goliad, this home was more than a mansion. The Saddler and Sanchez families, co-owners of the Sandbur, were wealthy and had been for more than a century. Yet Ripp would be the first to admit that Matt and his family never behaved as though they were affluent. Whenever he’d been around them, they had acted the same as any regular folks that worked hard for a living. And Ripp knew for a fact that none of the men sat back and let the hired help run the ranch for them. They got manure on their hands just like the rest of the crew. But as for their sister, Lucita, Ripp was in the dark. Before tonight he’d heard snippets of gossip about her from time to time. Lucita seemed to be the outsider of the family, but then a person could hear anything, especially when they worked in law enforcement.
“Nicci! Juliet! Come here!” Matt yelled as they stepped into an empty great room.
Matt’s wife Juliet, a tall blond woman, was the first to rush into the room. Nicci, their pregnant cousin, was right behind her and with her doctor’s instinct, she was the first to race to Lucita.
“My God, Lucita!” Nicci exclaimed. “What happened?”
“Seems she’s had some sort of car accident,” Matt spoke up before Lucita could answer. “Can you do something about her head?”
“Of course! Ridge and I carry a medical bag around in the car—just in case it’s needed. I’ll get him to fetch it.” The petite brunette gently placed her arm around Lucita’s shoulder. “Come on, Luci, let’s get that wound taken care of.”
Juliet started toward the kitchen. “I’ll tell Ridge to get the medical bag.”
Once the three women were out of the room, Ripp watched Matt heave out a heavy sigh before turning a look of concern on him.
“What in hell happened, Ripp? Were any other cars involved?”
“I’m not exactly sure about that.”
Matt raked a hand through his hair and Ripp thought his friend seemed a little overwrought about the whole incident. True, his sister had been slightly injured and her car was smashed, but that was a minor problem to a family with money to spare.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Right now you should just be happy that all Lucita received was a bump on the head. She’s lucky to be alive. Before we left the scene of the accident, she admitted to me that she’d been driving very fast.”
His face grim, Matt stared at him. “So she was breaking the speed limit, after sundown, when she knows the deer and hogs are venturing out? What the hell was she thinking?”
Ripp grimaced. He hated being the bearer of bad news, but in this case and every case, he had to be honest even if it meant bringing worry and pain to a friend.
“I’m not sure. Hell, Matt, she left skid marks from here to the horse barn and that’s no exaggeration. I haven’t examined the scene of the accident closely yet, I left Lijah in charge of that. But on first glance it looked as though once she stomped on the brakes, the car went into a spin. The front wound up having a head-on crash with a power pole. Her vehicle is totaled, that’s for sure.”
Shaking his head with disbelief, Matt gestured toward a grouping of leather furniture situated in front of a fireplace—unlit, of course, since they were presently sweating through the last sultry days of August.
“Sit, Ripp. We don’t need to stand up to talk. How about a cup of coffee or a beer?”
Ripp really didn’t have time to sit or enjoy any sort of drink, but Matt seemed particularly upset about his sister’s accident. He didn’t want to make things worse for him by cutting this visit short. “Better make it coffee,” he told his friend. “I’m still on duty.”
While Ripp made himself comfortable in a nearby armchair, Matt left for the kitchen. As he waited for the rancher to return, Ripp slowly eyed the spacious room. He’d been in the house a few times in the past few years and what he always remembered most about the place was that, in spite of the opulence, its rooms were warm, relaxed and homey.
Lucita had told him that she lived in the guesthouse situated about a hundred yards behind this building. He’d never been inside that particular house, but it had always reminded him of one of those Mediterranean villas with its low roof, pale pink stucco and arched supports running along the ground-floor porch. To Ripp it was a minimansion, but it didn’t compare to this house and he wondered why the sister and her son had chosen to live there instead of here with the rest of the family. Maybe those rumors he’d heard about her being an outsider of sorts were true. Or maybe her husband didn’t want to live that closely with his in-laws. That is, if she had a husband. The name on her driver’s license had been Sanchez and nothing more. But there were some women who chose not to take their husbands’ name, especially when they were from a prestigious family, whose name equaled authority.
In any case, he shouldn’t be curious about the woman. She was a ranching heiress, a woman way out of a poor lawman’s league, and more than likely married. So why had something about her caught his attention from the very first moment he’d walked up to her demolished car?
Maybe because she’s a beauty and then some, McCleod. And maybe because when she fell into your arms you felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.
Moments later, when Matt reappeared in the living room, Ripp did his best to shake away his strange feelings toward his friend’s sister.
A young woman with a black braid wound atop her head followed him, carrying a tray with an insulated pot and two cups.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Ripp,” Matt said as he took a seat on the couch. “Alida was making fresh coffee and I was explaining to Dad about the accident.”
Ripp looked toward the kitchen. “Where is your father?”
Matt jerked his head toward the part of the house where the women had disappeared. “He and Ridge are checking on Luci.”
Alida, the young maid, quietly served each man a mug full of coffee then