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Minutes later they reached a fork in the road and Sam steered the truck to the left where they passed beneath a simple wooden plank burned with a 3R brand. Another two miles passed when they topped a rocky rise and the Hollister homestead spread majestically across a wide, desert valley.
As they drew closer, Tessa could see a large, three-story house with wooden-lapped siding painted white and trimmed with black. The structure was surrounded by massive cottonwoods and smaller mesquite trees. A hundred yards or more to the right of the house was an enormous work yard with several large barns, sheds and holding pens, all of which were painted white.
“Here we are,” Sam said as he pulled the old truck to a stop in a driveway that curved along the front of the house. “Quite a spread, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s beautiful,” she agreed, then added, “but I happen to think the Bar X is beautiful, too.”
Sam chuckled. “Sheriff Ray is smiling right now.”
Even after they’d departed the truck and walked onto the ground-level porch running the length of the big house, Tessa was still thinking about Sam’s comment. If not for Ray Maddox, Tessa would never have been in this part of Arizona, much less be meeting these people. That fact multiplied her questions about the late sheriff.
At the wide door, Sam ignored the brass knocker and rapped his knuckles against the white wood.
After a brief wait, a young woman with a dark blond ponytail and a red, bib apron tied over her shirt and jeans answered the door.
“Good evening.” Pulling the door wide, she gestured for them to enter. “Please, come in. Mrs. Hollister and the others are out back having drinks. I’ll show you the way.”
Tessa and Sam followed her into a short entryway and through a spacious living room with high ceilings and sand-colored tongue-and-groove walls. A mix of leather and cloth furniture was the kind that invited a person to take a seat, while the cowhide rugs scattered over the oak parquet were a reminder that the ranch had been built on cattle.
At the back of the room, the maid opened a pair of French doors and gestured for them to precede her onto a large brick patio.
“Mrs. Hollister is there by the fire pit,” the maid said. “And if you two would like anything to drink that isn’t out here, just let me know.”
Tessa thanked the woman then focused her full attention on the group of people sitting in lawn chairs and standing around. Since the men had their backs to her, it was impossible to tell if Joseph was among the group, but the idea was revving her heart to a sickening speed.
Sam must have picked up on her nervousness. With his head bent slightly toward hers, he said in a low voice, “Don’t worry. These folks won’t eat you.”
The two of them had hardly taken two steps before Maureen spotted their arrival and hurried over to greet them.
“Tessa, welcome. I’m so glad you could come.” Instead of shaking Tessa’s hand, the woman gave her a brief hug and then turned and pecked a kiss on the old cowboy’s cheek. “And, Sam, if you hadn’t showed up, I was going to come fetch you here myself. Come on over, you two. I want Tessa to meet everyone.”
As they approached the group, Tessa saw five men rise from their chairs. Except for one, all had varying shades of dark hair and all were dressed in jeans and Western shirts. Even so, there was no mistaking Joseph. He was standing near one of the smooth cedar posts that supported the overhanging roof.
Her gaze briefly hesitated on his face before she forced it to move on to the remaining people gathered on the shaded patio.
“Sam is an old friend, so he doesn’t need any introductions,” Maureen said, then with a hand on Tessa’s arm, drew her forward. “Tessa, this is my family.”
“Wrong, Mom. Matthew isn’t family.” One of the dark-haired men spoke up in a joking voice. “He just thinks he is.”
Laughing, Maureen pointed out a tall, blond man at the back of the group. “That’s Matthew Waggoner. He’s the Three River foreman. A very good one, I might add. And since he’s been around here for quite a few years, we consider him a part of the family.”
The man called Matthew lifted a hand in acknowledgment and Tessa smiled in return.
“Now, over here to your left—the guy with the sour look on his face—is Blake. He’s my oldest son and manager of the ranch. Next to him is Holt. He’s a middle kid and the opposite of Blake. He’s always smiling.”
“That’s because he’s been bucked off so many horses he doesn’t know any better.”
This came from a very pretty woman sitting on the edge of a redwood lounger. Her shoulder-length hair was a shiny chestnut color and her long, shapely legs were showcased in a pair of tight jeans.
Everyone laughed, including Holt.
“Thanks, sis,” he told her. “I’ll remember you at Christmas.”
“Holt is the ranch’s horse trainer,” Maureen explained to Tessa. “And he has suffered a few buck-offs, but I don’t think the falls have addled him yet.”
Maureen gestured to the young woman on the lounger. “This is my oldest daughter, Vivian. She’s works as a park ranger at Lake Pleasant.”
“Hi, Tessa,” Vivian replied with a warm smile.
Tessa returned her greeting before Maureen finished the last two introductions.
“That’s Chandler with the yellow kerchief around his neck. He’s the doctor of the bunch. He has a veterinary clinic just outside of Wickenburg.”
The stoutly built man with coal-black hair and startling blue eyes lifted a hand in greeting. Though Tessa gave him a nod of acknowledgment, every cell in her body was already buzzing as she turned her attention to Joseph. From the moment she’d walked up to the group, she’d been fighting the urge to stare at him. Now she had a reason to let her eyes rest on his familiar face.
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