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His Defender
Stella Bagwell
YOU HAVE THE RIGHT…TO FALL IN LOVEIsabella Corrales refused to fall for her newest client, Ross Ketchum. He was cocky and arrogant, with a devil-may-care attitude and dimples deeper than the Grand Canyon. Nope, she wasn't going to fall for him. Not even when she had to move into his ranch house–for investigative purposes, of course….Love-'em-and-leave-'em-smiling Ross knew he hadn't tried to kill his brother-in-law but few others believed him. Isabella was his only hope in clearing his name. Trouble was, close contact with sweet Bella was giving the wary rancher all sorts of strange thoughts–about tomorrow, and the next day, and forever after with the dark-haired lady lawyer!
Neal Rankin had warned her to expect a cocky man in his mid-thirties. He hadn’t warned her that the owner/manager of the T Bar K was also devilishly handsome.
Six feet of hard, lean muscle, eyes as green as a willow tree, hair the color of rich sable and dimples bracketing a perfectly masculine mouth. His looks were the kind most women swooned over. But not Isabella. She knew his kind all too well.
Yet once Ross Ketchum was standing directly in front of her, she was struck by the full potency of his presence. She’d never seen any male as masculine as this one.
“Isabella Corrales,” he mused softly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
“I’m not here for decoration, Mr. Ketchum. I’m here to help you.”
Dear Reader,
It’s that time of year again…for decking the halls, trimming the tree…and sitting by the crackling fire with a good book. And we at Silhouette have just the one to start you off—Joan Elliott Pickart’s The Marrying MacAllister, the next offering in her series, THE BABY BET: MACALLISTER’S GIFTS. When a prospective single mother out to adopt one baby finds herself unable to choose between two orphaned sisters, she is distressed, until the perfect solution appears: marry handsome fellow traveler and renowned single guy Matt MacAllister! Your heart will melt along with his resolve.
MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS concludes with Sweet Talk by Jackie Merritt. When the beloved town veterinarian—and trauma survivor—is captivated by the town’s fire chief, she tries to suppress her feelings. But the rugged hero is determined to make her his. Reader favorite Annette Broadrick continues her SECRET SISTERS series with Too Tough To Tame. A woman out to avenge the harm done to her family paints a portrait of her nemesis—which only serves to bring the two of them together. In His Defender, Stella Bagwell offers another MEN OF THE WEST book, in which a lawyer hired to defend a ranch owner winds up under his roof…and falling for her newest client! In Make-Believe Mistletoe by Gina Wilkins, a single female professor who has wished for an eligible bachelor for Christmas hardly thinks the grumpy but handsome man who’s reluctantly offered her shelter from a storm is the answer to her prayers—at least not at first. And speaking of Christmas wishes—five-year-old twin boys have made theirs—and it all revolves around a new daddy. The candidate they have in mind? The handsome town sheriff, in Daddy Patrol by Sharon DeVita.
As you can see, no matter what romantic read you have in mind this holiday season, we have the book for you. Happy holidays, happy reading—and come back next month, for six new wonderful offerings from Silhouette Special Edition!
Sincerely,
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
His Defender
Stella Bagwell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With love to Dr. Z.
Thank you for your care and kindness.
STELLA BAGWELL
sold her first book in Silhouette in November 1985. More than forty novels later, she still loves her job and says she isn’t completely content unless she’s writing. Recently, she and her husband of thirty years moved from the hills of Oklahoma to Seadrift, Texas, a sleepy little fishing town located on the coastal bend. Stella says the water, the tropical climate and the seabirds make it a lovely place to let her imagination soar and to put the stories in her head down on paper.
She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives in nearby Port Lavaca, where he teaches high school math.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
“I’ve never tried to kill anybody! Whoever says different is a damn liar!”
Ross Ketchum stopped pacing around the study of the T Bar K ranch house long enough to glare at his sister and her new husband.
“What about that time the city cops hauled you in for choking Lance Martin?” Victoria asked.
Ross threw back his head and laughed. “That was just a little high school prom fight, and Lance needed taking down a notch or two.”
Victoria shared a wry look with her husband, Jess, who was sitting beside her on a long, leather couch.
“Okay,” Victoria conceded, “so it was just a little squabble between two roosters. But other people around here remember the incident. And if this thing goes to trial—”
“It isn’t going to go to trial, Sis,” Ross said with confidence. “Not with me as the defendant.”
With a helpless groan, Victoria turned to her husband. “I give up. It’s your turn to try and convince him how serious this thing is.”
Jess Hastings was not only Victoria’s new husband, he was also the under-sheriff of San Juan County. And, more ironically, he was the person Ross had supposedly tried to kill.
Three weeks ago, right here on T Bar K land, someone had shot Jess in the shoulder. If the bullet had struck three inches lower, his brother-in-law would be dead now.
“Victoria is right, Ross,” Jess spoke up. “The D.A. is making noises about pressing charges.”
His jaw tight, Ross pulled the black cowboy hat from his head and tossed it at a rail of pegs hanging on a nearby wall. The hat hit one of the pegs, dangled wildly, then settled into place. Like his life, he thought wryly. Sometimes it seemed he was only hanging on by his fingertips, but after everything was washed and dried he was usually standing firmly on his feet. He had to believe things would turn out for the best this time, too.
“Well, obviously I’ve been framed,” he said. “And that means we’re all going to have to be careful around here.”
Jess nodded in total agreement. “The way I see it, none of us can be too careful.”
Ross turned a concerned eye on his sister. “You couldn’t have married Jess and moved to the Hastings ranch at a better time. I’m glad you’re not staying here now.”
Once Jess had been released from the hospital, Victoria had been so eager to marry him, she’d forgone a big, splashy wedding for a simple ceremony in the judge’s chambers. Ross didn’t understand such love and devotion. At least, he’d never felt it for any woman. But he was glad his sister was happy at last. Her marriage was the only joyful thing that had happened around the T Bar K in years.
“I’ll still be in and out,” Victoria assured him, then, with a grateful glance at her husband, added, “but Jess will be with me. In the meantime, Neal Rankin is expecting you in his office tomorrow morning at nine.”
Neal Rankin was the attorney the Ketchums used for all the legal business concerning the T Bar K. Along with being their attorney, he’d been a good friend to Ross and Victoria ever since their childhood days.
Frowning, Ross looked up from unbuckling his spurs. “Rankin? What for? Don’t tell me that something is wrong with the ranch’s books?”
“No. It’s not the books,” Victoria told him. “He wants to speak with you about this shooting incident.”
Ross snorted a laugh. “Since when did Neal Rankin think he was a criminal attorney? He must be needing a vacation.”
“With friends like you, I’m sure he does need a vacation,” Victoria shot back at her brother. “But he wants to speak with you just the same. We—uh, he thinks we need to hire a defense attorney for you.”
Leaning down once again, Ross pulled the sundial spurs from the heels of his boots. He’d been in the saddle all day. He was tired. He needed a shower and bed. He didn’t want to talk about, or even think about, attorneys and shootings and jail.
“Oh hell, I don’t need a defense attorney.”
“Then you’d better tell Neal that in the morning,” Victoria said flatly. “Because he thinks you’re in trouble.”
Grinning, Ross winked at her. “Trouble is my middle name, Sis. Everybody in San Juan County, New Mexico, knows that.”
The next morning Ross drove into Aztec early and ate a leisurely breakfast of bacon and eggs at the Wagon Wheel Café. After his third cup of coffee, he walked down the sidewalk to Neal Rankin’s small law office. Inside, behind a wide desk, a hefty woman with graying black hair smiled at him.
“Hello, Mr. Ketchum,” she greeted cheerfully. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Hello yourself, Connie. And any day that Neal calls me to the office is a grand day,” he said drolly. “Is he in yet?”
Connie jerked a thumb toward the door behind her left shoulder. “Ten minutes ago. Better go in now before someone else gets in line.”
Ross crossed the room and entered the small connecting office. A tall man with dark-blond hair was in the process of pouring coffee into a dark ceramic mug. He looked around as Ross helped himself to a chair.
“I guess you’ve never heard of knocking,” he said.
“Not on your door, buddy,” Ross told him.
With an accepting shake of his head, Neal held up the coffee cup. “Want some?”
“No. I just left the Wagon Wheel. The little waitress there never let my cup cool,” Ross said with a cocky grin.
Neal took a seat behind his desk. “That’s because she knows you’re a rich man.”
Ross chuckled. “And here I thought she was taken with my looks.”
“You’re crazy, Ross. You’re thirty-five years old and you’re not a bit different than you were at twenty.”
“Why should I try to improve on a good thing?” Ross grinned, then got straight to the point of his visit. “Besides, you’re the one who’s crazy if you’re thinking I need a lawyer to defend me.”
The other man sipped from the mug before he settled comfortably back in the leather chair. “I not only think you need one, I’ve already hired one for you.”
Incredulous, Ross scooted to the edge of his seat. “No!”
“That’s right,” Neal said calmly. “She’ll be here in the morning. And I expect you to be around the ranch when she arrives.”
Ross looked even more stunned. “She?”
Neal nodded. “Isabella Corrales, Bella for short. She’s very good. She worked for a time as a prosecutor for Dona Ana County.”
Incensed, Ross jerked off his hat and slapped it against his knee. “You not only hire a woman, but you hire one who’s a prosecutor! What are you trying to do to me?”
Accustomed to Ross’s passionate outbursts, Neal smiled patiently. “Calm down, old friend. I’m trying to take care of you.”
“Hmmph,” Ross grunted. “Sounds like it. What do you do to your enemies, stake them out in a bed of fire ants?”
“This is serious business, Ross. You could be brought up on several counts, the most serious being intent to kill.”
Ross mouthed a few curse words. “Yeah, my own brother-in-law, for Pete’s sake. Come on, Neal, anybody with two eyes can see this is a frame job.”
“Maybe. But with a murder already having taken place on the T Bar K, it makes you look mighty suspicious.”
“Damn it, I had nothing to do with that murder!”
“I know that. But the law doesn’t. Right now they’re searching for clues, and everything they’re turning up points to you.”
“You’re dramatizing this whole thing, buddy,” Ross said, then dropping his head in his hand, he massaged the deep furrows in his forehead. “And you know how I feel about professional women,” he added in a low, gritty voice. “What the hell did you go and hire one for?”
“To keep your neck out of jail. Is that a good enough reason?”
Lifting his head, Ross glared at him. “Fire her and hire somebody else! I don’t have time for some stiff-necked female trying to make a name for herself in the courtroom.”
Picking up a pen, Neal began to doodle on an already scribbled-on ink blotter. “You don’t know anything about this woman. How can you judge her?”
It was easy, Ross thought, when he’d had one just like her break his heart as though it was nothing more than an old chipped plate.
“Because I know her kind,” Ross said gruffly.
For long moments, Neal studied his friend. “Get this straight, buddy, Bella is nothing like Linda.”
Linda. Just the woman’s name was enough to fill Ross with dark bitterness. Five years had passed since she’d walked out of his life, but time hadn’t lessened the pain of rejection or the hard lesson she’d taught him.
“I sure as hell didn’t come here this morning to discuss Linda,” he said flatly.
“And I didn’t call you in here to discuss one of your past women,” Neal replied. “I just want to make sure you don’t try to lump Bella in with her.”
Ross drew in a deep breath and let it out. Neal was his friend. A good friend. He didn’t want to have a war of words with the man.
