The Ranch Solution

No, not mad anymore. Was it Little Foot having her foal? I’m juggling reservations and the schedule. Got a few days’ work for two of your cowhands in the second week of June, if you can spare them. M.

She reread the text and sent it. That was much better. When the U-2 was heavily booked, they hired additional wranglers from neighboring ranches, sometimes the ranchers themselves when things were slow. Ranching had its lean years and the extra income could come in handy. She didn’t go to Luke very often, since he was primarily a cow and horse breeder and didn’t have the same financial ups and downs as some of the other ranches—he shipped prize-bull semen all over the world and got paid extremely well for it.

Another message came right back.

Yeah, it was Little Foot. You can have Pedro and Tommy in June. They’re best with people. Call me if you’re not too tired. Love, L.

Mariah lifted the phone and dialed.

“I hope this is an obscene caller,” Luke said when he answered.

“I don’t have the energy to be obscene.”

“Me, either. Little Foot had me worried at the end.”

“You should have let me know. I would have come over.”

“By the time it seemed there might be a problem, it was too late to get you here.” Dull thuds sounded through the line and she figured Luke had pulled off his boots and thrown them across the room. “She’s a small mare and it was her first, but Dr. Crandall thought I could handle it. He wasn’t able to come when Little Foot went into labor—he was working on a German shepherd that someone brought into the clinic. She was found on the highway. I’ll bet some damned fool didn’t tie her properly in their truck and she either jumped or was thrown out when they were screaming down the road.”

“That’s awful.” It infuriated Mariah when she saw kids or dogs in an open pickup. Luke felt the same—they’d seen it turn out badly too often.

“I guess she was pretty busted up, but Doc thinks she has a chance. Anyhow, it was a really big colt. I don’t know where Little Foot was hiding so much baby.”

Having assisted at births where the foal seemed impossibly large, Mariah chuckled in sympathy. Most of her experience with animals came from years of ranch life and tagging after the local veterinarian. In college it was often a question of associating technical terms with something she already knew, which enabled her to carry a heavier course load than her fellow students. Back then she’d been in a hurry to get through school so she could take over for Dr. Crandall; now he had to find another vet to buy the practice. Mariah minded Dr. Crandall being unable to retire almost as much as she missed being a veterinarian herself—Doc couldn’t keep working forever.

She shifted and Squash dug the tips of his claws into her skin as a warning to stay put. “Tell me about the new arrival. I remember you bred Little Foot later than usual last year.”

“He’s exactly what I was hoping for—a chestnut, same as Little Foot, with her sleek, clean lines. Look, I gotta grab a shower and hit the sack. I just wanted to hear your voice before going to bed.”

The comment surprised her. It wasn’t like Luke to be sentimental.

“Oh, okay. Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

Mariah hung up and put her cat on the floor so she could do a walk-through in the guest area. She’d intended to get down there earlier—someone else had mentioned the noise from Susan and Chad’s tent, saying the newlyweds were “enthusiastic about their honeymooning.” It was said with a grin, but Mariah didn’t want the situation to escalate again.

Outside, the stars blazed across the sky and she walked in their faint glimmer to the slope opposite the house, Pip at her heels. Things seemed fairly peaceful. Susan and Chad were in a tent set apart from the main group—they were whispering and smothering a laugh as she passed, but it wasn’t too loud.

It would be noisier when more kids were visiting the ranch after school got out for summer vacation. Nobody could chatter like two girls making friends.

A guest, Judy Hartner, mumbled “Hi” to Mariah as she stumbled toward the restroom wearing flip-flops and a jacket over her pajamas.

Pip’s eyes pricked forward when he saw a light shining from one side of the O’Donnells’ tent. She could see the wheels turning in his mind...the hope of another midnight snack. He let out a yip and whined.

“No,” she breathed.

She slapped her thigh to get Pip’s attention and he followed her to the barn. The cowhands made rounds to check on the animals, but it didn’t hurt to check on them herself. Most of the horses were asleep and didn’t stir as she switched on the lights and looked into each stall; they were used to familiar people coming in at night. But Shadow peered out the moment he caught her scent.

“Hello, boy.”

He nudged her shoulder and she rubbed his velvety black nose. Extending his neck over the stable door, he sniffed her pocket with unerring accuracy.

Mariah laughed. “Okay, okay.” She took out the carrot she’d brought from the house and he crunched it down. “You are one pampered pony.”

“Pony?” said a voice.

Startled, Mariah spun, her heart pounding. His tail wagging furiously, Pip dashed to greet Jacob. This was the human being who’d provided him, however unwittingly, with a steak dinner. Without much effort, Jacob could be a friend for life, yet he didn’t pet Pip or even greet him.

Pip cocked his head, puzzled. “Rrrrffff.”

“Just a minute, boy,” he murmured. “I’m a little stiff.” He bent and gave Pip a slow stroke on his shoulders. The canine wriggled with delight.

Mariah raised her eyebrows. So Jacob was acknowledging he hadn’t escaped the day unscathed. Of course, he might be sorry he’d said anything in the morning...but he was going to be sorry, period. She knew what happened when you went riding after a long absence.

“I don’t suppose your grandmother has a hot tub filled with that liniment you referred to this morning,” Jacob said, straightening. “I’d like to spend the rest of the night in it. And maybe tomorrow.”

The corner of her mouth twitched—she hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor. “No, but an economy tube is available. I’ll unlock the dispensary for you. It doesn’t require an M.D. to hand out, though Grams prefers to manage first-aid services herself.”

“Don’t bother for tonight. I’ll survive...barely,” he added in a droll tone. “By the way, was your grandmother responsible for laundering my shirt after Pip used it as a doggy bowl? I threw it away, but found it in my tent this evening. My dry cleaner would claim it was impossible to get those grease stains out, and it looks perfect.”

“Possibly. Grams has many talents.” Mariah motioned at Pip to come to her. Some people didn’t like dogs—especially large ones—and there was definitely a lot of Pip to go around. “I was doing a quick patrol and saw your lantern was on. Are you having trouble dropping off after drinking all that coffee, or did Pip wake you up?”

“I drank the coffee for a reason. I’m reading contracts coming up for renewal in November and December.”

Contracts?

Naturally. What else?

He’d acted aloof and bored at the informal after-dinner social hour. Activity in the fresh air sent most of their visitors to bed by nine or ten, but first they mingled—singing or chatting or playing games in the mess tent. Jacob hadn’t participated; instead, he’d sat in the back, radiating tension, drinking regular coffee instead of decaf.

On the flip side, while Caitlin hadn’t been the soul of the party, she had played a game of checkers with Burt and gobbled down two servings of peach cobbler, topped by chocolate cake with ice cream and a glass of milk. Whatever was bothering her, it wasn’t her appetite. Since getting to the U-2, she’d eaten the same as any other teenager with a bottomless pit in place of a stomach.

“I see.”

She’d tried not to sound critical, but Jacob looked defensive. “I waited until Kittie was asleep before starting. And you’re working, too. How long a day does that make for you?”

“Summer is hectic. It’s a family business. We all work.”

“You have employees. Ever consider delegating?”

Delegating? Mariah pressed her lips together. She didn’t need management advice from a city-dwelling, money-obsessed workaholic. Delegation was fine, but everyone on the ranch had duties that kept them busy. As the business manager, she took care of odd tasks such as walking through the U-2’s tent town to see if the newlyweds were engaging in noisy sex and disturbing anyone.

“We get by,” she said finally.

Shadow nickered softly and nuzzled her neck, a reminder that the U-2 was about more than ledger sheets and keeping score with dollars and cents.

Mariah smiled, and this time Shadow got the apple she’d put in her left pocket. “And it isn’t just about the bottom line at the ranch. For example, when Shadow was born, I spent the entire night out here. Drowsed on a pile of hay with his head on my knee. And I’ll take that over curling up with a contract any day.”