Moments later the three of them reached the end of the hallway, and Geraldine pushed her way through two louvered swinging doors. Ridge followed behind Nicci as they entered a kitchen equipped with old, industrial-size appliances and a long pine worktable flanked by wooden benches.
A tall, bony woman who looked to be in her seventies was occupied at a large wooden cutting board. She was busily plucking fresh shrimp from a huge mound and pinching the heads off. As he and the two women trouped into the room, she looked up from her work and wiped her hands on the tail of her apron.
“Cook, this is Dr. Ridge Garroway,” Geraldine said. “Ridge, this is our devoted Hattie—but everyone calls her Cook. She’s been with us for over forty years, so she’s family.”
Cook’s red lips pursed with sarcastic humor at Geraldine. “Why did you have to tell him how long I’ve been around here? Now he’ll know how old I am!”
She extended her hand to Ridge and he noticed her fingernails were painted the same color as her lips. Her black hair had only threads of gray, and in spite of her advanced years, she was a comely woman.
“Nice to meet you, Cook. I hope my being here for supper hasn’t caused you a lot of extra work.”
The older woman let out a mocking laugh as she eyed Ridge with open appreciation. “Geraldine has made a menu longer than my arm. I’ll be working my rear off all day.”
“Cook!” Nicolette scolded with embarrassment.
Ignoring Nicolette’s dismay, Cook continued to chuckle. “Well, it’s a big deal for Nicci to be bringing a man to the ranch. We haven’t seen her with one in years, you know, so we’ve planned a feast.”
With one raised brow, he turned a speculative grin on Nicolette. “No man at all. Really?” he asked.
“There’s no need for you to answer that question, Cook,” Nicci firmly inserted.
Casting an impish look at Ridge, Cook said, “Well, I’d better not go into that. I don’t want to get my doctor mad at me.” Her black eyes swept up and down the length of him. “I haven’t seen a man as good-looking as you since Neil Rankin swept in here from New Mexico and married our little Raine. What kind of doctoring do you do, Ridge?”
Enjoying her thoroughly, Ridge raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I’m a heart doctor, Miss Hattie. You don’t have any heart problems, do you?”
Cook laughed and blushed as he finally dropped her hand. “The only heart problem I have is a lack of a love life. Can you do anything about that, doc?”
Ridge laughed with her. “I’m not sure. I guess I could introduce you to some of my single patients.”
Exchanging a conspiratorial wink with Ridge, Nicci said to the woman, “Ridge is the doctor who got Dan back on his feet, Cook. So you might want to thank him for that.”
With a quick snort, Cook waved a dismissive hand at both Ridge and Nicci. “That old codger! He’s not romance material. I just sent him that box of cookies because I felt sorry for him.”
“I thought it was because you were a little sweet on the old wrangler,” Nicci suggested.
With a loud groan of protest, Cook turned and headed back to the cutting board. “Keep that up, girl, and you won’t get any lunch, much less supper,” she warned.
The bantering between the women kept up for ten more minutes while Cook finished putting their lunches together.
When Ridge and Nicolette finally exited the kitchen through a back door, he was carrying a pair of stuffed saddlebags and two canteens of cold water. From the edge of the patio, Cook and Geraldine were smiling broadly and waving them off as if they were headed out on a great expedition.
As the two of them walked in the direction of the barn, Ridge said, “I think your mother and Cook liked me.”
Nicolette laughed. “I’m sorry to bust your bubble, Ridge, but I think they would like any male I brought home.”
“Oh,” he said with wry amusement. “And I thought it was my dazzling personality.”
She glanced over at him and smiled. She’d not expected him to be so friendly and down-to-earth with her family, especially with Cook. Bill had believed he was above mixing and mingling with the hired help, which had always irked Nicolette, who considered Cook and the other hands on the Sandbur family. Her ex-husband’s superior attitude had made their visits home very awkward, until she’d finally started leaving Bill to his own pursuits and making the trips down from San Antonio by herself. No doubt he’d used those times alone to entertain his women, she thought bitterly. But that was in the past, and she needed to heed her mother’s advice and forget the hurt and betrayal.
“I’m only kidding, Ridge. Mother and Cook do like you. But you’ll have to wait until tonight to see if my cousins cotton to you,” she teased.
“What about your brother, won’t he be here?”
She shook her head. “Lex had to go to Florida to see a potential cattle buyer.”
“Oh. That’s too bad,” Ridge replied. “If he’s anything like your mother, I know I’d like him.”
It was on the tip of Nicolette’s tongue to tell Ridge he could meet Lex the next time he visited. But then she’d sworn to herself that this one invitation was all she was going to give him. Yet as she walked along with him, she realized that idea was a dour one. She was enjoying having him here, enjoying being at his side and seeing the lighthearted smiles on his face. He made her feel young and alive. Did she really never want to experience this again?
“Uh, speaking of your family,” his voice broke into her thoughts, “I’m curious about Cook. Does she not have any relatives of her own?”
“She has a sister and a niece and nephew that live up near Cuero, but she doesn’t have any children of her own. Her husband, Herbert, was killed in the Vietnam War in 1965. He was a lieutenant in the Marine Corp so he was pretty much in the thick of battle. Cook had already been working here on the Sandbur for several years when it happened, and Mother said the whole ranch was devastated by the news. She and Herbert had been young and very much in love when he went to war. Afterwards, well, she never married again.”
“Hmm,” Ridge mused aloud. “I wonder why? She was obviously a very beautiful woman in her day.”
Warm color filled Nicolette’s cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d discussed such romantic things with a man, and it left her feeling a little embarrassed. Especially when she kept trying to think of Ridge as a friend instead of a suitor.
“Cook says a woman only has one real love in her life—anything after that is just for laughs.”
“Is that the way you think, Nicci?”
Nicolette didn’t know whether it was his question or a rock on the path that caused her to stumble. Either way, the moment the toe of her boot tripped, Ridge’s strong hand caught her elbow and steadied her.
As they paused on the beaten trail, Nicolette looked up at his warm brown eyes, until the breathless feeling in her chest became too much for her. She looked away, toward the barn where their horses were waiting.
“I, uh, don’t think about those things anymore, Ridge,” she answered, then quickly strode ahead of him.
By the time he caught up to her they were only a short distance from the barn, and Ridge decided the moment for him to press her about her opinions on love had passed. Which was probably for the best. The morning had been far more pleasant than he’d ever expected and he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the day.
“Are those the horses we’ll be riding?” he asked, pointing to the pair of saddled mounts tethered to a scraggily mesquite tree.
“No. Ours are over there.”
She pointed to a holding pen that was attached to the east end of a huge barn made of corrugated steel. In one corner of the pen, two horses, a sorrel and a gray, were tethered to a wooden hitching post.
Pickup trucks, most of them sporting scratches and dents from heavy ranch use, were parked here and there among the outbuildings and cattle pens. Cowboys were milling about, some spreading feed in long troughs for a herd of gray Brahmans, while others were loading molasses licks on the back of a flatbed truck.
Before they made their way over to the horses, Nicolette introduced him to several of the busy wranglers, then pointed out a few of the nearest outbuildings and explained their use.
“What an operation,” he exclaimed as he watched the busy comings and goings. “I can’t imagine the job it takes to keep all this running smoothly. Obviously, the work doesn’t stop even though it’s the weekend.”
She nodded. “Unfortunately the livestock don’t care if it’s Saturday or Sunday. But Matt tries to rotate all the men’s hours so that they have equal time off. And Sunday mornings are always free for church. Even if some of the men are camped out on the ranch for roundup, one of the cowboys in the group will read scripture to the others.”
His eyes were full of approval as he turned his gaze on hers. “Sounds like you all work as one big family.”
The two of them were standing in the shade of the mesquite, but now Nicolette turned in the direction of the pen where their horses were waiting. “That’s a tradition here on the Sandbur. I suppose that’s why once a cowboy hires on, he’s here for years.”
“So you don’t have trouble keeping good workers?”
“Oh, once in a while a bad apple comes along, but for the most part we have dedicated men. I suppose it’s just the same as hospitals and clinics. There are some committed doctors and nurses and some just working to draw their money.”
His brows arched warily as he glanced her way. “Hmm. I’m afraid to ask which bunch you put me in.”
He watched a smile hesitate at the corners of her lips before it eventually spread across her face.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll admit I had preconceived notions about you. But now—let’s just say I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
He chuckled. “What kind of preconceived notion? Or should I not ask?”
By now they had reached a wide metal gate that opened into the holding pen. While Ridge unfastened the latch, Nicci stood to one side and waited for him to swing the gate open.
She said, “I’m sorry, but I thought you’d be one of those rich doctors in the business for the prestige and the money. And I guess I thought you were too young to be that serious about your job.”
He followed her into the pen and carefully shut the gate behind them. “Being young isn’t a crime,” he told her. “And as for the money, I don’t need it. If I never worked another day in my life, I have enough to comfortably survive. But then, my wants are simple, Nicci.”
One delicate brow arched with skepticism, but she didn’t make any comment. Instead, she gestured for him to follow her over to the tethered horses.
Rebel, the heavily muscled gray, was Ridge’s horse for the day, and he carefully made friends with the animal before he tied on the saddlebags and slung a canteen over the horn.
In a few short minutes they were both mounted and riding west along a well-beaten trail through stands of mesquite trees and tall wesatch. Prickly pear was rampant and in some spots grew as tall as Rebel. Even so, grasses were abundant and they quickly came upon herds of gray Brahmans grazing on the more tender forage. For the most part the cattle were docile and content to simply raise their heads and watch the horses until they passed by.
Nicolette rode abreast of Ridge and he continually found his gaze drifting over to the beautiful picture she made. She sat a horse as though she’d been born there, which probably wasn’t far from the truth. Her posture was straight without being stiff and because she rode a lengthy stirrup, her long legs were barely bent at the knee. More often than not, she had only one finger on the rein, which told Ridge she trusted her mount completely. He wondered what it would be like to have her absolute trust, to have her believe in him as a man, a doctor, a lover. No doubt her trust would empower a man and make him feel as though he could climb mountains.
“You ride really well, Ridge. When did you become familiar with horses?”
Ridge shook away his intimate thoughts as he answered her.
“I was probably about ten years old when I got on my first horse.”
She looked surprised. “Your folks owned horses?”
His curt laugh was full of sarcasm. “No. My parents aren’t outdoor people. My father’s connection to the outdoors is to play a little golf and sit around the pool at the clubhouse. And my mother thinks the outdoors is strictly for insects and animals.”
Beneath the brim of her hat, Nicci’s brows pulled together in a thoughtful frown. “That’s odd,” she said, then glancing his way, she flicked a hand in his direction. “I mean, you ride a horse as well as any of our wranglers who’ve done it all their lives. You own cattle and horses, and yet you weren’t brought up in this sort of lifestyle. You’ve made me curious now.”
A wan smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I have to thank Barry Macon for introducing me to ranching life. He was a childhood friend. We attended the same middle school together. That was before my parents took me out of public school,” he added with a frown. “Anyway, Barry’s parents owned a small ranch outside of Houston and that’s where I first learned to ride. Barry’s dad raised Black Angus and he would let us boys help him round up the cows for doctoring and vaccinating. And in the summertime we’d work in the hayfield driving tractors. I loved every minute of those days.”
Enjoying the peek into his young life, she thoughtfully studied his face. “You spent a lot of time at Barry’s home?” she asked.
“As much as I could. Their ranch was a little boy’s paradise. Being around the animals, swimming in the creek, eating country meals at the Macons’ kitchen table.”
She heard more than just fond recollection in his voice. He was speaking with love. Something she’d not picked up on when he’d talked about his parents. It suddenly struck her that the Macon home had probably shaped his life in more ways than just fostering a love of ranching.
She said, “You say you met Barry while you were in public school. What happened to your friendship with Barry when you entered high school?”
Ridge’s face tilted upward to the bright blue sky and the Mexican eagle gliding in lazy circles in the hot southern wind. He eyed the bird with respect and a bit of envy. Even though the black and white eagle had to forage alone for his survival, he was free to live as he wanted and not as someone else wished.
He answered Nicolette’s question. “I didn’t attend public high school. My parents sent me to boarding school. Which, in the long run, was actually better for me. I loved public school, but at boarding school I didn’t have to live at home.”
She stared at him with utter dismay. “My word, Ridge, was your home life really that bad?”
Sighing, he tugged the brim of his hat a little farther down on his forehead and fixed his gaze on the trail ahead of them. “I guess I’ve given you the wrong impression about my growing-up years, Nicci. You’re probably thinking I’m giving you one of those poor-little-rich-kid stories.”
As her gaze traveled over his strong profile, she tried to imagine him as a vulnerable child and her heart ached to think he’d grown up without the emotional support he’d needed from his parents.
“Are you?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No. I’ll be the first to admit that I had things that kids like Barry never dreamed of having. We lived in a mansion, in the old, prominent part of the city. I had a closet full of well-tailored clothes, a new sports car every year, all the spending money I wanted, vacations to anyplace in the world, the best schools, medical care…you name it, I had it.” A tight grimace came over his face as he glanced at her. “I guess I should have felt guilty as hell for not being satisfied. Indeed, my parents thought I needed therapy because I wasn’t a happy kid. But I was happy—whenever I was away from them…when I was at Barry’s and his mother was feeding us fried eggs and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Can you understand any of that?”
Nodding, Nicolette said, “Yes, I can understand. You liked things simple—uncomplicated. So do I. That’s why I moved back to the Sandbur after my divorce. This place keeps my feet on solid earth.” Reaching up, she patted her horse’s neck with a loving hand. “And where a person really feels at home is where he wants to be when he’s wounded or lonely or in trouble.”
He didn’t say anything for long moments and as they rode along Nicolette contented herself with listening to the jingle of the bridle bits, the creak of the saddles, and the melodious twitter of the ever-present mockingbirds. She realized Ridge had probably already told her more about his personal life than he’d intended and, though she would have liked to know more, she wasn’t going to push him.
After a few brief minutes passed in silence, he surprised her by picking up the conversation where she’d left off.
“I guess that’s why I wanted to spend so much time at Barry’s home. I never really felt at home with my parents. They’ve always been absorbed in themselves, and things weren’t any different when I was a child. During the times the two of them were together there was always friction and fighting. To say the least, the atmosphere in the house was cold and strained. It’s still that way.”
Nicci knew that feeling quite well. The house she’d shared with Bill had eventually turned into a battleground. Now that she’d had a chance to look back on that awful time in her life, she was glad there had been no children to be hurt by the fallout, the way Ridge had apparently been hurt.
“Are your parents still together?”
He grunted mockingly. “Oh, yes. If you can call living under the same roof as being together. They go their separate ways—if you understand my meaning. In both of their opinions, divorce would be too expensive.”
“I see,” she murmured, and not for the first time, she realized how blessed her childhood had been. Her parents had been madly in love and they’d encompassed their children in that love. The rich sweetness of their relationship had permeated the house and made it a warm haven for the whole family. She couldn’t imagine how horrifying it would have been to hear them throw vile words at each other. But apparently Ridge had seen and heard those words between his parents and he’d done the only thing a child could do under the circumstances. He’d sought out a place where he’d felt safe and at home, with his friend Barry.
He looked at her with skepticism. “Do you? I somehow doubt that you do. When I met your mother I could just tell she’d made things good for her children.”
Nicci nodded soberly. “You’re right. I grew up in a loving home. But later—” Her features tightened as the memory of those painful years she’d spent with Bill bullied their way into her thoughts. “Well, I don’t want to get into that. Just tell me the rest of your story. What happened to you and Barry after you went to boarding school?”
As he absently combed his fingers through Rebel’s mane, he said, “When my parents put me in boarding school, I was afraid I’d never get to be with my friend again. But thankfully, Barry’s folks realized it was important for us boys to be together and they scraped up enough money to send him to the same boarding school. To this day, I honestly don’t know how the Macons’ afforded the tuition. Borrowed and made self-sacrifices, I’m sure. Anyway, I had enough spending money for both me and my friend, so that helped him a little.”
Now she had to add generosity to his list of traits. Was the man a genuine golden boy or did she simply want to only see the good in him? While she’d been growing up, her parents had often encouraged her and her siblings to focus on the good in a person. She’d done that with Bill and had failed to see his glaring faults. She couldn’t let herself do that a second time.
“So what about college?” she asked. “Was Barry around then?”
Ridge nodded. “For four years. Then he graduated with a degree in agricultural business. He’s put that to use helping his father. And me—” He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, you know what I’m doing.”
Yes, he was doctoring people with sick hearts, she thought. But Nicolette now understood a little more about this man. He was not only trying to make a place for himself among his peers, he was seeking a home like Barry Macon had shared with him. And deep down, wasn’t she? She’d wanted a husband and children so badly. But her chance for that sort of home had been crushed and now the thought of reaching for her dream again was terrifying.
Shoving that bleak thought away, she said, “I think I’d like to meet this childhood friend of yours. He sounds like quite a guy.”
Chuckling, he turned a glinting eye on her. “Oh, no. Barry’s too much of a flirt to let him loose around you. I’d have to keep him on a leash.”
Nicolette laughed lightly to cover the blush that had seeped into her cheeks. “I can handle myself around flirts,” she said teasingly. “Is he married?”
“No. He swears I’ll be the first one to settle down and have kids.”
Trying to hide her curiosity, Nicci cast him a sidelong glance. “Will you?”
His warm brown gaze lingered on her face until her whole body grew hot and uncomfortable.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I need to find the right woman first.”
It was a struggle for Nicci not to urge her horse ahead of him and away from the suggestive look in his eyes and the innuendo in his voice. Flirting lightly with her was something she could handle, anything beyond that was too much for her broken heart to deal with.
“Well, I’m sure you will find her,” she said, trying to make her voice as casual as possible. “There are plenty of available women around here who want to get married. Any day the perfect one might walk into the clinic and right into your heart.”
Maybe that woman already had walked into his heart, Ridge thought, as he watched Nicci nudge the sorrel on ahead of him. Maybe she was the woman who could help him fill his little house with the sound of children and the warmth of love.
But she was a career woman with a job that would hardly allow her time to have a child, much less raise one, he reminded himself. Besides that, she was rich. She wouldn’t want to lower her standard of living just to be with him. And if that wasn’t enough of a wall between them, she was downright afraid to love again. So why was he here? Why wasn’t he out trying to find a woman more suitable to his needs?
Maybe because each time he looked at her, his gut tightened and his heart kicked into high gear. Right or wrong, she affected him in ways no woman ever had. And a suitable mate wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted love.