The Ranch Solution

“Problems?” The word burst out of him. “You could say that. Kittie set fire to her school gymnasium last Wednesday.”

The impulsive revelation was a shock, yet Mariah couldn’t believe the girl who’d panicked thinking a wolf might have eaten her father would deliberately set a fire. Besides, Jacob O’Donnell might be able to buy his way out of most of Caitlin’s mistakes, but arson would surely have landed her in juvenile court.

“How did it happen?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. She tried to hide the cigarette she was sneaking without putting it out. Kids are kids—they get in trouble,” he said, an aggressive thrust to his chin. “I only told you in case she mentions it and you get the wrong idea.”

“I see.” Mariah released the breath she’d been holding. Smoking was less worrisome than arson, and she could make inquiries to be sure Jacob was telling her the full story and not the sanitized version. “Does she have any cigarettes with her now?”

“Of course not.”

There wasn’t any “of course” about it, but Mariah didn’t want to antagonize him further by pointing that out.

“I’m going to check on my daughter.” Without another word, Jacob urged his horse into a trot. The tension in Caitlin’s body increased visibly as he rode up by her.

Mariah gazed at the O’Donnells and the calf and beyond at the tree-studded hills. Thank goodness she didn’t have the same problems with her brother as Jacob had with Caitlin.

Setting fire to the school?

Lord.

She began mentally reviewing the locations of the U-2’s fire hoses and extinguishers.

* * *

AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER, Jacob stepped under a spray of water and rubbed soap on his chest. He was grateful they’d gotten back to the ranch center early—between cows, horses, sweat and dirt, he’d never needed a shower more.

The high window in the concrete shower stall was open and he saw Mariah Weston and her brother standing by the foremost barn. The afternoon sun turned her auburn hair into a dark flame, painting her curves with light and shadow, and he felt another unwelcome flash of attraction. She was so different from Anna it seemed almost disloyal to find her sexually appealing.

Not that he was a monk.

He dated and enjoyed an occasional discreet liaison as long as it was understood he didn’t want anything permanent. Lately, though, he’d hardly looked at women, what with Kittie acting out every parent’s nightmare. So it didn’t make sense that someone as impossible as Mariah was getting to him, even in passing. Hell, if nothing else, the jagged white scar he’d spotted on her left forearm and the half-healed gash on her right palm should be enough to warn him off.

How had she acquired those injuries?

A hundred disturbing possibilities came to mind, each attached to the knowledge that the same things could happen to Kittie. And it would be his fault for bringing her to Montana. Parenting had land mines he couldn’t have imagined fifteen years ago when he was debating with Anna whether it was too soon to start a family. He’d wanted to wait until he graduated and was established in his career, but she’d talked him into fatherhood without too much effort...the same way she’d talked him into everything.

Before long Reid went into the barn and Mariah stood there alone. For somebody operating a vacation business that ran on goodwill, she had a strange way of communicating with paying guests. Yet Jacob shifted uneasily. Strange wasn’t quite the best description; it was more a brutal honesty with a dash of temper. Still, the honesty was from her point of view, and it didn’t make her right.

Kids might grow up faster on a ranch than in the city, but he saw no reason for Kittie to grow up faster than she already had—particularly if it meant taking unnecessary gambles with her safety. Adulthood would come soon enough.

He did respect the way Mariah had treated the cow. Getting close to a wild, thrashing animal took guts; it had convinced him she was a genuine rancher, not just a figurehead. What Mariah didn’t understand was that Kittie had wanted him to help, and failing the request had put a new black mark on his parental report card.

He ducked under the showerhead and scrubbed his hair, aware that working with an outraged cow had also seemed easier than dealing with his own child. What kind of father did that make him?

He groaned.

It was so frustrating. One minute Kittie seemed almost like her old self; the next she was at her worst. Nobody else was bothered by her lightning mood swings, and why should they be? She wasn’t their daughter.

He hadn’t been this scared since Anna died.

When Jacob peered through the window again, Mariah was gone. Instead he saw Kittie. She walked to the barn, peeked around carefully and then went inside.

Crap.

He got out and grabbed a towel. Kittie had a crush on Reid Weston, and she’d already disappeared a couple of times—disappearances she hadn’t explained. Reid might have snubbed Kittie when they first met, but he was a teenage boy, and Jacob didn’t trust teenage boys.

After all, he used to be one himself.

* * *

I WISH MOM AND DAD were here.

Reid Weston spread fresh straw in the horse stalls, the familiar refrain going through his mind. If his parents were alive, they’d be managing the ranch and Mariah would be a veterinarian. But they weren’t and she wasn’t. She’d quit school after the accident and returned home.

And nothing had ever been the same again.

He blinked furiously and forked a load of straw into the last stall. Mostly he missed his mom and dad, but it would be nice not to feel guilty that Mariah had left school to take care of him and the ranch. She’d given up her lifelong dream of becoming a vet.

Another twist of guilt hit Reid’s midriff. He wanted to be a veterinarian, too. Yet how could he go away to college and leave Mariah in Montana to deal with everything on her own? On top of all the other stuff she took care of, she ran the business end of the ranch by herself, doing what their parents used to do together. And Reid knew that they couldn’t afford extra payroll costs, much less school expenses, no matter what Mariah claimed.

He wasn’t blind. No one talked about it, but he knew that if it wasn’t for the ranch finances and being responsible for him, Mariah and Luke would have already gotten married. Instead, his sister was working herself silly running the vacation business and taking on more and more of the things Granddad handled so he could retire. Never mind that Granddad didn’t want to retire.

“Why don’t you like me?” asked a voice suddenly from the barn door.

Damn.

It was that city brat. Kittie. He’d avoided her for a day, but his luck had run out.

Reid spread the straw more thoroughly than necessary. “I don’t dislike you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It isn’t you I don’t like. It’s where you...” Reid stopped, realizing how dumb it sounded to say that he didn’t like her because a drunk driver from Seattle had killed his folks and that was where she came from. Maybe it was dumb. He’d have to give it some thought.

“If it isn’t me, then what is it?” Kittie insisted.

“Just take my word, it isn’t personal.” He hung the pitchfork on the wall and dusted his hands. The kid might not be so odd if her hair wasn’t so weird. And he should be polite—it was what his mom and dad would have expected. “I’m going to see that cow you brought in. You can come if you want.”

Kittie bobbed her head eagerly. “Mariah says she’ll be all right.”

“She ought to be. My sister has a knack with hurt animals.”

“My dad thinks she’s hot,” Kittie said matter-of-factly as she tagged along. “I can tell from the way he checked her out yesterday. He thinks I don’t notice that stuff, but I do.”

Reid didn’t break step. O’Donnell wouldn’t get anywhere with Mariah—the night before he’d overheard his sister telling Grams that he was an obnoxious jerk who thought his money was better than anyone else’s. At any rate, Mariah didn’t go for men wanting a vacation fling. Short-timers were a regular feature at the ranch; they could try hitting on her, but they never got out of the gate.

“Are breasts really that important to guys?” Kittie asked.