"Are you sure that doctor I saw yesterday is trustworthy?"

"Of course he is. He's been the West's family doctor for years," Amanda placed a tray on Brandon's lap. "Here's some lunch."

Brandon's nose crinkled at the sandwich. "I guess I have no choice to trust him since I'm in nowhere land," he complained, then shook his head. "I don't mean to be a pain, but this bread is not toasted."

"Please, just eat the sandwich, Brandon," she became annoyed. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Fine. Go do your work. I didn't mean to hold you up," he poked his sandwich with a thin finger.

Feeling guilty, she groaned and snatched the plate from him. "I'll be right back."

Heading for the door, she stole a look over her shoulder in time to catch a sly grin on Brandon's face. Fuming at his guile, she began to wonder if her idea would work.

Could she rely on his discourteous remarks about the ranch to rub Noah the wrong way? Maybe the more Noah was forced to defend the ranch, he would start to realize how much he really cared about it and wouldn't leave. And she could only hope this realization would happen soon. There wasn't much time.

"Maria, I hate to tell you, but our guest has sent back his sandwich. Said he wants it toasted," Amanda placed the plate of food on the kitchen counter. "I hope you don't mind."