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“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.
That stopped Reid in his tracks. He stared at her, nonplussed. “What?”
“I mean, nobody will date me unless I have bigger boobs. Isn’t that right?”
She looked so miserable that he was doubly at a loss for words. “Uh...well...uh...different guys like different stuff. We’re not all the same.”
It was a lame thing to say and Kittie obviously agreed. “Oh, sure. Some guys prefer brains and personality.”
Reid could have told her she wasn’t doing any better in the brains and personality department, but she’d probably try to scratch his eyes out. He could take her down easily, except Granddad would kick his butt for fighting with a girl and her dad would only make things harder for Mariah.
“You’ve just got to grow...er...up more,” he mumbled, wishing he was on another planet. “You could be like your mom. Do you know when she got...bigger?”
“Not really. She was awful pretty, though, and Dad says I’m like her.” Yet Kittie’s face became glummer. “I don’t know much about my mom ’cept she first got sick in high school. Real sick. They tried to make her better, only it didn’t work or stay that way or something.” All at once Kittie seemed alarmed. “Please don’t tell my dad.”
“About what?” Reid couldn’t think of anything he’d want to tell Kittie’s father, especially about her questions. Honestly, asking how he felt about breasts? The brat didn’t have a lick of sense.
“Nothing. N-nothing I said.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
He headed again for the corral where they’d put the mother and calf. It was in the rear of the far barn where she wouldn’t be upset by too much activity. Range cattle had little contact with humans and didn’t take kindly to being penned at the best of times. True to form, the mother cow grunted and moved in front of her baby, stamping the ground in warning.
Reid ran a practiced gaze over her and the feed box. Her muzzle was wet, so she’d obviously drunk some water. And a portion of the feed had been eaten. Not bad after getting roped, stitched, dosed and confined.
“How is she?” Kittie rested her arms on the top fence rail, the same as him, but she had to stretch to do it.
“Not bad, considering.”
“What would have happened if we never found her?”
Reid thought of the animals they lost each year. Life was hard on the range; he couldn’t sugarcoat it. “Could have died. The baby is too young to survive on its own, and the mother’s wound was infected. But even if you hadn’t located them, someone else would probably have come along.”
Footsteps came from behind them and Reid grimaced at the sight of Kittie’s father. “Mr. O’Donnell.”
“Hello, Reid. I haven’t seen much of you since we got here.” There was a faint emphasis on the I and a hidden query whether another O’Donnell had seen him before now.
Reid tipped his hat back. As if he’d be interested in a city runt with an attitude. “Stands to reason—I’ve been busy and I’m not your wrangler.”
“That sounds like something your sister would say.”
“Yup. Some things run in families.”
O’Donnell flicked a look at Kittie, whose attention was no longer on the mother cow and her calf. “I guess.”
“Dad, am I really, truly like Mom?” Kittie asked intently.
A smile softened O’Donnell’s expression. “Really and truly, sweetheart. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“I... Whatever.” Kittie pressed her lips together and turned back to the corral.
“I’ve got work to do,” Reid said, deciding it was time to escape. “Don’t stay long, and don’t get near the mama or her baby. It’ll make them nervous.” With a curt nod to Jacob O’Donnell, he strode away.
All in all, he felt kind of sorry for Kittie. Her dad was rich, so she had plenty of money, but apparently her mom was dead, and he knew exactly how that felt.
Lousy.
CHAPTER FOUR
LATE IN THE EVENING Mariah reviewed and accepted four reservations for July and added them to the chart where she tracked which wrangler was assigned to each group of visitors.
She leaned back in the office chair and rotated her shoulders to loosen her tight muscles. The gray tiger-striped cat on her lap protested the movement before settling down again. Squash was a fine old fellow, preferring long naps these days to terrorizing mice the way he used to when he was younger.
The U-2 was now fully booked for June, mostly booked for July and had more than half their openings taken for August—recent good news on the economic front had bumped their bookings considerably. Regular, middle-class people hesitated to go on vacations when the economy was bad. The ranch didn’t get many guests with Jacob O’Donnell’s wealth—the whole sleeping-in-a-tent thing generally turned them off.
Hmm.
What should she do about the O’Donnell family?
Jacob was different from their other guests in more ways than just the generous size of his bank account. He wasn’t curious about ranching or the stuff that brought most people to Montana, yet he and his daughter were staying for several weeks. The only thing recommending him was the way he sat a horse. It might have been years since he’d ridden, but he seemed at ease in the saddle.
Years...
A wicked grin crossed Mariah’s face. She didn’t care how great Jacob O’Donnell was on a horse—he was going to wake up in the morning with the biggest case of sore butt ever. It was inevitable. You didn’t ride for the first time in ages and get away unscathed. The interesting part would be whether he pretended it was all right or asked Grams for liniment and aspirin to relieve the aches and pains.
She was betting his pride would win.
“It wasn’t nice to tell Mr. O’Donnell that he’d have an aching bum tomorrow,” she whispered to the fur ball curled up on her thighs. “Not nice at all.”
Squash gazed at Mariah drowsily. He was accustomed to having conversations with her in the middle of the night. She’d adopted him from one of the barn cat’s litters when she was thirteen—he’d listened to the highs and lows of her high-school years, sulked when she was away at school and was the confidant she had needed when her parents died. She’d told Squash the things she couldn’t tell anybody, even Luke. Squash didn’t judge; he just purred and blinked at her.
“I’m usually much nicer to our guests. And I bet now he’ll feel that he has to prove something by being an iron man.”
Or maybe not.
It probably didn’t matter to rich men what “the help” thought of them, and that was what she and her wranglers were to Jacob O’Donnell...the hired hands who were supposed to shut up and obey his commands.
Ha.
A lot of visitors came to the U-2 again and again because they loved the ranch. Some of them had to save awhile for their vacations, but they arrived excited to be there once more. It was why Mariah had begun offering a 10 percent discount for return visits, and she wouldn’t let a spoiled entrepreneur with a chip on his shoulder ruin anyone else’s trip.
The computer pinged, alerting her that she had an email waiting. She toggled to the message program and saw it was from Luke.
Still mad at me? Up late with a mare dropping a foal. Thinking of you and wondering if you are awake. Love, L.
Mariah smiled and typed a reply.
Not mad. Trying to decide what to do with Jacob O’Donnell and his daughter. He’s impossible. At least he didn’t go out of his way at dinner to annoy me. M.
Yet she wavered as the cursor hovered over the send button on the computer monitor.... Maybe she shouldn’t say anything about Jacob O’Donnell. She deleted the note and started again.
