The Ranch Solution

Kittie started to say “Whatever” as usual, then stopped. “Okay.”

He sat and put a paper sack between them. She smelled chicken and other stuff. “I brought you supper in case you’re hungry,” he explained. He opened the sack and took out a foil-covered plate. “Simple outdoor cooking—that’s what we specialize in at the U-2. It’ll stick to your ribs.”

For a second Kittie considered refusing, but her stomach rumbled again. She pulled the foil back on the plate—it was barbecued chicken and beans and coleslaw and corn bread. The corn bread was buttery and drizzled with honey. She ate until she was ready to burst and washed it down with a bottle of cold root beer, which normally she’d say was for babies, but somehow tasted awfully good with the chicken and beans. It was the best food ever.

Mariah came out of the mess tent and glanced in their direction. She was kind of pretty. Dad hadn’t hit on her or anything, though he’d definitely checked her out...especially her chest.

Kittie wrinkled her nose.

Her dad acted as if she didn’t know about sex, but she was fourteen, not four. She knew all about it. Not that boys would notice her unless she had real boobs.

As if.

“I also put a plate in for your father. I hope he has a taste for medium steak,” said the old guy. He had deep creases in his skin and looked, like, ancient. “Would you do me a favor and take it to him?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Much obliged.” He took a piece of straw from his pocket and stuck it between his teeth. “My name is Benjamin Weston, by the way. And my granddaughter says you’re Caitlin.”

“Mariah is your granddaughter?”

“Yup.”

Kittie wiggled her toes. “Um, how does this ranch thing work?”

“It isn’t complicated. You’ll work with a wrangler and mostly do what he does.”

“So you can fix me,” she said resentfully.

Benjamin raised an eyebrow. “Do you need fixing?”

“My dad thinks so.”

“Fathers worry. That’s their job. But we just want you to have fun finding out about ranching and what we do round here. That’s our job.”

“Oh,” Kittie said, still vaguely suspicious.

The sun was getting low in the sky and she felt tired all at once. It was hard work pretending everything was okay when nothing was okay. Some things were so broken they could never be fixed.

“I gotta go.” Kittie picked up the sack with the extra food in it. “Dad must be in our tent phoning Japan or something. What should I do with that?” She pointed to her empty plate and pop bottle.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “You go ahead.”

Kittie didn’t know what to expect when she got to the tent, most likely her dad talking business on his cell phone. He worked an awful lot, but she’d bet he was still upset with her. Dreading another argument, she peeked around the partition.

He’d fallen asleep with his legs extended on the ground and his suitcase open on the bed. She tiptoed over, put the food down and tiptoed out. There wasn’t any TV and he’d taken away her MP3 player, so she curled up on her mattress and chewed her fingernails as it got dark.

Benjamin and Mariah were nice, and if they weren’t going to try to fix her, the ranch wouldn’t be so bad.

For a while.

* * *

MARIAH ROSE BEFORE DAWN the next morning. A lifetime of getting up to do chores had made it impossible to sleep longer. Her city life at college hadn’t changed her; it just made it obvious she didn’t fit in there.

“Hi, Grams,” she said, walking into the kitchen.

“Hi, dear. Are you in a better mood today?” Elizabeth asked as she mixed a pot on the stove.

“Working on it.” Mariah pulled the newspaper away from her grandfather’s face and kissed his forehead. “What’s new, Granddad?”

He grinned his irrepressible grin and waved the paper. “What do you think of this? It came in yesterday’s Pony Express delivery—last year’s ball scores!”

“Imagine that.”

The family had been getting the New York Times as long as the newspaper had been mailing out editions. It wasn’t necessary with the internet available, but Granddad said there was no substitute for the smell of newsprint.

He folded the paper and put it on the sideboard. “By the way, Luke phoned. If you have time, he’ll come by later so you can go for a ride together.”

Mariah smiled. “I didn’t think I’d see him before the barn dance next Saturday. I’ll call him. He can come with me when I go out to check on the greenhorns.”

Luke Branson was the U-2’s closest neighbor, but she’d hardly seen him for weeks, spring being one of the busiest seasons on their respective ranches. It would be better once they were able to get married. Not that they were formally engaged; it was more a mutual understanding for the future.

“When are you two going to set a date?” Grams asked. “I’d like to have great-grandchildren while I’m young enough to chase after them.”

“One of these days. Luke understands why I want to wait.”

Reid stumbled into the kitchen as Mariah was sipping tea and eating oatmeal. He served himself a bowl and stared at it bleakly. He showed an equal lack of interest in the eggs and whole-grain toast that Grams put on the table. Mariah knew from the light under his door last night that he’d been up late studying. He needed to get more sleep, but it was hypocritical to urge him to get good grades and then interfere with his studies.

“I saw you take food to Caitlin O’Donnell,” she said to her grandfather.

“The purple streaks in her hair are a nice touch, but she’s death on a stick gussied up in so much black. I’ll have to teach her to have fun.” Granddad rubbed his palms together and Mariah figured he was the one who would enjoy himself the most. Benjamin Weston was a kid at heart.

“You won’t have a chance—you aren’t the O’Donnells’ wrangler,” she said edgily. But it wasn’t her grandfather who aggravated her; it was the thought of Jacob O’Donnell believing he could dump his daughter’s problems on someone else. No one at the U-2 had time to babysit an unruly, privileged teen. “I don’t want any of us to get involved. Her father didn’t go into details, but apparently she has issues to resolve. We need to let him deal with them.”

“Teaching her to have fun won’t do any harm.”

“For heaven’s sake, Reid and Mariah have enough to handle without your interfering, Benjamin,” Grams scolded, sitting down with the rest of them.

“Guess you’ll have to keep me busy.”

Mariah knew they’d clasped hands underneath the table. Above all, Granddad was a romantic. However hectic things might be, late every afternoon he and her grandmother strolled up the shallow valley, arm in arm, as if they were still a courting couple. That was how Mariah wanted things to be with Luke, a closeness that just kept growing.

Elizabeth poured milk into her tea. “What about Caitlin’s mom? She should be here if her child is in trouble.”

“She wasn’t mentioned, but I feel sorry for anyone married to that guy,” Mariah said. “I bet they’re divorced.”

“Mmm, not necessarily. He’s quite attractive.”