The Ranch Solution

“Good morning, Mr. O’Donnell,” Mariah said, yanking him from his thoughts.

“Hello, Miss Weston.”

Jacob noticed her gaze flick between his shirt and jeans—probably evaluating how suitable they were for the ranch—and almost asked if he passed muster. His irritation from the previous night returned, but he squashed it down. This was not a moment to be bothered with personality conflicts. By the same token, he wasn’t going to apologize for coming from the city and not knowing how to chase cows.

He cleared his throat. “I need to discuss safety issues with you. I’m a businessman, so I know why you require a signed waiver in case of an accident. As a father, though, I can’t help being concerned.”

A range of emotions flitted across Mariah’s face. “A ranch isn’t the same as a city park, but I’ve assigned our most experienced wrangler to you and your daughter for the duration of your visit, and a second one while you’re learning the ropes. Caitlin should be fine if she behaves herself. Now, your registration form says you’ve ridden before...?”

Jacob nodded. “We used to go horseback riding every week,” he said absently, still chewing on Mariah’s comment if she behaves herself. It gave him a nasty sensation in his gut—Kittie never behaved herself these days.

“I’m guessing you rode at a private stable with a riding track.”

“It wasn’t a ranch. We live in Seattle. But we haven’t gone out for several years.”

“That won’t be a problem. The horses I’ve chosen for you are older, savvy and unflappable. You ought to be all right on them—they’re practically catatonic,” Mariah said, a bit too smoothly.

Jacob leaned forward. “I want my daughter to be safe, Miss Weston, not bored. What good will the ranch do her if she’s bored?”

Mariah didn’t blink. “The U-2 isn’t boring, but we do insist that our guests don’t stretch their limits too far.”

Limits?

That was like waving a red flag at a bull, yet before he could react, she went on, “Vacations here are meant to be fun, not dangerous. My grandmother is a doctor and lives on the ranch. My aunt is also a doctor, and she lives in town behind her clinic. They’ve mostly treated our guests for aching bums, upset tummies, cuts, scrapes and sprained ankles. Since you haven’t ridden recently, I suspect you’ll be added to the aching-bum list.”

Nonplussed, Jacob opened his mouth...and then closed it. He wasn’t sure if he’d been insulted or patronized or if Mariah was simply doing her job by informing him of the ranch’s medical support. Taking into account the few amenities the U-2 offered, having two doctors available was a surprise. He just prayed they wouldn’t be needed. Kittie had her mother’s rare blood type, so he always ensured adequate emergency services were present wherever they traveled. In preparation for this trip, his staff had learned there was a well-equipped clinic in the local town, but they hadn’t said a doctor lived on the ranch.

“I’m not sure about that,” he said. “Remember those friends I told you about? Their son came home with a cast on his arm. He broke it at the end of his visit here.”

Mariah’s expression chilled, no doubt from the censure in his tone. Fine, she should know he wasn’t accepting her word without question.

“It happens occasionally—usually when people aren’t practicing reasonable caution or when parents don’t keep tabs on their children, assuming someone else will do it for them. That can happen anywhere, even in the city. Anyway,” she murmured, swinging her legs over the bench to stand up, “your wranglers will catch up with you after breakfast. We work hard on the U-2, so you might want to make sure Caitlin has a healthy meal before starting out. Have a pleasant day, Mr. O’Donnell.”

Jacob glared.

He wanted to call to Mariah’s departing back that he worked hard in Seattle as well and of course he’d ensure that Kittie had a decent breakfast...except it was pointless. Especially about Kittie. He knew perfectly well he couldn’t force his daughter to swallow a bite of food if she didn’t want to. And considering the precarious state of their relationship, she’d probably refuse to eat if he said anything about it.

CHAPTER THREE

LATER THAT AFTERNOON Mariah and Luke Branson rode in the direction the wranglers had taken the O’Donnells. She routinely checked on visitors to be sure the greenhorns were doing okay, and today the newest greenhorns were Jacob and Caitlin...not that Jacob O’Donnell would enjoy being described that way.

Her horse tossed his head, playfully testing her control of the bit. Shadow loved to run, the wind racing by, his hooves thundering across the land.

“You’re a live wire, aren’t you, boy?”

He whinnied and leaped a step. His black coat gleamed warm in the sunlight and his ears were pricked forward, alert to every sound.

“I swear that animal is your best friend. I come in a poor second,” Luke complained good-naturedly.

“He’s my best horse friend,” she agreed. She’d raised Shadow from the day he was born, right after her mom and dad’s accident. It had helped get her through those bleak, grief-filled days. “But you’re my best people friend.”

“So is Reid still saying he doesn’t want to go to college?” Luke asked with a pleased grin.

“More or less.”

“Maybe he’s worried how you’ll pay for it.”

“Could be. It’s tight, but we’re doing better. The debts are paid and I’m putting money aside. We should be able to swing the expense.”

“That’s great.” His mount sidestepped skittishly. “Stop it, Ghost, or I’ll turn you into dog food,” he warned the gray-and-white piebald.

Ghost snorted in disbelief.

“I could talk to Reid,” Luke offered. “He might open up for me—man-to-man, that sort of thing. Or at least as his future brother-in-law.”

“Thanks, but I’ve pushed enough. He’s got finals soon and they have to come first.”

“It’s your call. Are those the greenhorns you’re checking on?” Luke gestured to the south, down a sloping hill.

“Looks like them.”

Mariah bent over Shadow’s neck and watched the group in the distance. Though she’d still dressed in black that morning, Caitlin had forgone the silver-studded shirt and purple accents in her hair. Other than those small changes, she’d remained pure defiance. The anxious daughter from the predawn morning was nowhere to be found a few hours later. She’d mouthed off to the cowhands, told the cooks they were serving heart attacks on a plate and shown up an hour late to the corral. She wouldn’t say where she’d been, but Burt had calmly informed her that if it happened again she’d either sit her rear end in the tent for the day or spend it shoveling out the horse stalls.

Burt was always calm. It made him a terrific wrangler for kids. Things that might give anyone else a stroke made him yawn. She wished she could say the same thing about herself. Having Jacob imply she was lying about the injuries on the ranch had infuriated her. There had been a boy who’d broken his arm the prior year...but he’d fallen in Buckeye when his parents stopped to buy postcards on their way to the airport.

Luke controlled another sideways jump from his horse. “This O’Donnell fellow sounds like a real piece of work. I’ve never heard you gripe so much about a guest.”

“He rubs me wrong.”

“That’s interesting.”

She gave Luke a sharp glance. “There’s nothing interesting about it. He’s difficult, that’s all. He actually advised me that my parents should speak to Reid about being friendlier to guests. What nerve. He thinks the world revolves around him and his money. It isn’t that I don’t care what his daughter is going through, but he has to deal with it, not just throw his checkbook at the problem. On top of that, he said our facilities are primitive. Since when are hot showers and commercial-grade restrooms primitive? If he wanted a resort on the Riviera, he should have gone to the Riviera.”

“Okay, okay,” Luke placated. “I’m not the enemy. I’m on your side. Let’s go meet this difficult guest.”

Mariah brushed Shadow’s flanks with her heels and they cantered toward the others. As they got closer she could see that Jacob O’Donnell and the wranglers were working with a cow—its calf bawling in loud, unhappy tones—while a white-faced Caitlin remained in the saddle, some distance away. Mariah swung to the ground, her focus narrowing. The mother cow had a nasty cut running down her rear haunch. She was in pain, and that would make her more unpredictable than usual.

“It’s not too bad, Baby Girl.” Burt cursed amiably as he received a kick in the stomach. “But that gentle touch of yours will come in handy, Mariah.”

Her mouth curved. At rare moments he still called her Baby Girl, the way he’d done when she was four years old and would sneak into the barn to be with a favorite horse.

“Hey, Burt,” Luke greeted the cowhand.

“Howdy. Sorry to mess up your old-fashioned courtin’ with old-fashioned work.”

Luke chuckled, the cowhands sniggered, and Mariah could have belted all three of them. Luke wasn’t courting her. They had an understanding; you didn’t have to court somebody you were already going to marry.

The noise from the frightened calf was increasing the mother’s agitation, so Mariah nudged it into her sight. “Don’t fuss, silly, nobody is hurting your baby.”