“Do you want to go feed the orphan calves?” he asked, checking his watch.
She bobbed her head eagerly, unable to hide her excitement. “Yeah, sure. That’d be awesome.”
“Let’s go, then.”
He led her to the east rear barn where they kept the babies. One of the ranch hands got there at the same time.
“We’ll do this feeding,” Reid said.
“Much obliged. I’ll return to my nap. Can’t beat a warm Sunday afternoon for a nap under a cottonwood tree.” And with that the man ambled away.
The calves began bawling, crowding the walls of their pens, as Reid took out the supplies. He showed her how to mix the milk replacer, and together they filled the bottles and fastened the nipples on the tops. Each calf would get two bottles, four pints each. Kittie had once visited a friend while she was babysitting her baby brother, and this routine was kinda like that, except these bottles were huge and they were in a barn. And cows didn’t have stinky diapers to change.
Mariah and her dad came while they were still working, but Kittie pretended he wasn’t there. She felt funny about the way she’d blown up at him earlier. It wasn’t his fault for the way things had turned out at the barn dance, only she couldn’t see why the boys in Montana disliked her so much, even if she didn’t have real boobs yet.
She tugged at her black T-shirt with its skull outlined in silver studs and looked at the black nail polish she’d put on for the dance. None of the other girls had worn black polish or black lipstick. If her clothes were the problem, she needed to get something else to wear.
Maybe Mariah could help her.
Kittie looked at Reid’s sister. Well, Mariah might help if Dad would stop pissing her off every five minutes.
“Can I go in with the calves?”
Reid tightened the top on the last bottle and gave it to her. “Sure, they won’t hurt you. These are the smallest ones, less than two weeks old.” He let her into one of the pens and two of the calves pushed against her, bawling louder. The third stayed separate. It mooed too, but much more softly, and had a sad face.
“Here you go, you little guys.” Reid hopped over the gate instead of going through it. He had a bottle in each hand and the ones fussing at Kittie darted to him.
Kittie went to the third calf and held out her bottle. “Aren’t you hungry, baby?”
“That one isn’t doing as well as we like,” Mariah said from the next pen as she fed two of the bigger calves. “The extra attention is good for her. Cows are very social, but she’s the youngest, so she may not have made friends yet.”
Kittie sighed. She didn’t fit in, either, at least not with the pretty cowgirls that Reid liked better than her. She sat on the hay to make herself look smaller and held the bottle out again. “Here, baby,” she said.
The calf extended its neck and grabbed the nipple, sucking slowly at first, then with growing enthusiasm. Kittie giggled; she didn’t even care about the milky formula dripping on her jeans from the calf’s muzzle. She’d have to change her clothes, but the U-2 had washing machines for them to use, so it wasn’t a big deal.
It was weird. She hadn’t wanted to come to Montana, but it was really nice on the ranch and she didn’t have to think so much about everything that was wrong in her life. She could think of other stuff...like Reid.
Was a first kiss too much to ask? It might be her very last chance to get kissed at all....
When the bottle was empty, the baby let out a complaint, almost as loud as the other two calves in the pen had sounded.
“Here’s her second one.” Reid gave her another bottle. The two calves he was feeding were already nearly finished.
This time the calf came close and Kittie laughed as it drank. “You’re pretty, little one,” she whispered.
“We feed them twice a day,” Mariah said. “You’re welcome to help. You’re going to be at the U-2 for several more weeks, so you’ll be able to see them grow a bit. These older ones will be weaned off the milk replacer before long.”
Kittie gulped. “Are they all orphans?”
“Actually, most of them aren’t,” Mariah explained. “Some were rejected by their mothers—we’re not always sure why that happens. And others we’ve decided to raise by hand because the mama cow doesn’t have enough milk.”
That was sad, too, but not as sad as being orphaned.
“I’ll help whenever you want. Can I name this one Emily?” Kittie patted the calf that was nodding sleepily but still sucking on the milk replacer in the bottle.
“Sure. Emily likes you, so you should be the one to feed her when you come by.”
* * *
“ANIMALS RESPOND TO CAITLIN. Has she ever had a pet?” Mariah asked quietly.
“What...?” Jacob said, distracted by the sight of his daughter with the calf. In spite of her black clothes and unnaturally dark hair, she seemed so normal, giggling as she fed the animal. And, while she’d behaved as if he was invisible, at least she hadn’t been rude to Reid or his sister.
“A pet,” Mariah repeated. “A cat or a dog, or even a hamster or rabbit.”
He dragged his gaze from Kittie. “No, nothing like that.”
“I see.”
“We’re busy and they don’t fit into our lives,” he added, though he shouldn’t need to defend himself. Lots of children didn’t have pets. Yet a part of him wondered... He’d grown up with a faithful golden retriever who’d gone with him everywhere. Sparks had slept on the end of his bed, was fed scraps from the dinner table and cheerfully fetched foul balls at impromptu baseball games. Friendship took different shapes. He’d had a younger sister and brother and Sparks to keep him company, but Kittie was an only child.
Hell, he could second-guess himself forever.
And, in all honesty, having enough time to feed and care for a pet wasn’t the reason his daughter didn’t have one. Cats and dogs carried germs and he’d refused to consider getting any for years after her heart surgery, though the doctor had said a few months would be more than sufficient time for Kittie to completely heal and be out of harm’s way. But it had developed into a pattern that was hard to break.
“I suppose you had a dozen pets growing up,” he murmured.
Mariah tossed an empty bottle onto the hay outside the pen and got another. “I don’t know about dozens, but this is a ranch and we’re surrounded by animals. We have our favorites, like Pip. I also adopted one of the barn cats years ago. Squash has been my pal ever since. He’s old now and doesn’t chase around the way he used to, but he’s my buddy.”
“Squash? That’s an interesting name.”
She grinned. “He was ten weeks old when I brought him up to the house. Barn cats have a wild streak that can make it difficult adapting to indoor living, but he instantly recognized the advantages. He got underfoot so often demanding affection that my dad said he was going to get squashed.”
“So everyone called him Squash.”
“Yup.”
“And then there’s Shadow.”
“He’s my horse. No one else rides him. He foaled right after...” A spasm of pain crossed her face.
“After what?” Jacob prompted.
“Er...soon after I quit school.”
“Surely not high school.”
Mariah shook her head. “Grams wouldn’t have put up with that. No, I was in veterinary school.” She rolled her shoulders, probably as a signal to move on from their present topic of conversation. “I’ll start sterilizing the nursing bottles and nipples for the next feeding. I’m sure Caitlin would rather nurse the calves than get dishpan hands.”
She walked away to collect the empties while Jacob digested her small bombshell. She’d planned to be a veterinarian? He’d assumed she had grown up on the U-2 and never left. It shouldn’t be a surprise that she’d go
ne away to school with both her grandmother and aunt being doctors—the Westons plainly respected education—but why had she quit? He thought furiously, putting together the bits of information he’d learned about her over the past week, and he realized that Mariah must have left college following her parents’ deaths.
They’d both made tough choices. He’d given up engineering for a career that would enable him to take care of Kittie and repay the money that his in-laws had put out for his wife’s and daughter’s medical care; she’d given up a veterinary career so she could look after her brother and the family ranch. He admired her for it. Few of the women he’d dated since Anna’s death would give up anything they wanted, whatever the need.
Damn.
In spite of Mariah’s sharp edges, which he seemed destined to bump against, she was intriguing...and desirable. He found himself watching her, finding ways to begin a conversation, however much they clashed. When he was searching for his daughter, she was the one he’d gone to, asking if she’d seen Kittie. Mariah had a good idea of everything going on at the ranch, so she was a logical source if he were looking for someone, but was that mostly an excuse?
Stop, he ordered sternly.
Mariah might be a tempting combination of feminine curves, but she was attached to a man from her own world. Moreover, she was a risk taker whose plans included marriage and babies one day. She was the last woman who should appeal to him, and he definitely couldn’t see Mariah moving to Seattle, even if he did change his mind about what he wanted for the future. Mariah’s opinion of the city was akin to his opinion of the country—sleeping in a tent and working outside wasn’t as tedious as he’d expected, but people could tolerate most things for a while.
“Hello, everyone,” hailed a man’s voice, and Jacob almost laughed.
Luke Branson.
Of course. He must have a sixth sense for when someone was appreciating Mariah’s...assets.
Mariah was across the barn washing bottles at the sink and she turned around with an astonished expression. “Luke? You were over this morning. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shot Jacob a quick look before kissing her forehead. “Just checking on Moonfire and seeing how she’s settling in.”
“Regretting the decision to give her away? You don’t have to, you know.”
“Nope. She’ll be great with the kids. But I was also wondering if you’d be able to arrange your schedule and go with me when I drive her to California in the fall.”
Mariah dried her fingers and appeared to be picking her words carefully. “I think that would be great, only I can’t give you an answer right now. But there’s plenty of time before you leave. You didn’t have to ask me tonight.”
“Sure, but I also thought I’d invite myself to dinner.”
* * *
“YOU’RE ALWAYS WELCOME.” Mariah knew that Luke wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty—especially since he was aware that she couldn’t cook an edible meal to save her life—but she felt bad. With his parents living in Florida, he usually ate alone, and he wouldn’t be eating alone if they were already married.
“Besides,” Luke continued in a low tone, meant only for her, “I want to see more of my fiancée. You’re getting so caught up in the O’Donnells’ problems, I’d like to be sure you’re thinking of me, as well.”
There was a possessive quality in his voice and Mariah blinked.
“I’m not caught up in their problems. Mostly I’m trying to keep Jacob O’Donnell from shoving those problems back onto us,” she breathed. “And of course I’m thinking about you. I just don’t want you getting overworked.”
“We’ve had this discussion. I’m fine. Now, let’s finish washing those bottles.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.
She didn’t object to him helping; but he’d acted so odd the past few days she hardly knew what to say. Was he getting tired of waiting for her to set a wedding date? After her parents’ accident, it had been comforting to have Luke there, as solid and unchanging as the hills of Montana, but she might have taken him for granted.
Jacob O’Donnell would never allow himself to be taken for granted.
The idle thought shocked Mariah—was she overly involved with Jacob and his daughter the way Luke had suggested? And not just with Caitlin’s problems, but with Jacob and the way he compelled her senses?
“Mariah, do you know if the new girl is here yet?” Caitlin came over and asked as the bottles were stowed for the next feeding.
“They weren’t earlier, but we can’t hear anyone arriving when we’re back this far,” she said. “We still have to give the calves their solid feed, but you could run to the mess tent and check.”
“You can all go. I’ll finish the feeding,” Reid called across the barn, already opening the bin where they kept the creep pellets.
Luke slung his arm over Mariah’s shoulders as they headed for the mess tent. Caitlin came as well, but she appeared torn between wanting to stay to help Reid and meeting the new visitors.
It was late enough that dinner was being prepared. The scent of chili, barbecuing meat and baking corn bread wafted through the air, along with laughter and conversation. Yet it was quieter than usual, since the majority of their new guests were scheduled to come on Monday and Tuesday. Paying guests rarely stayed more than a week or two, so in the peak vacation season it was an endless revolving door at the U-2.
Caitlin raced ahead of them into the large tent. A girl her age was talking to Burt.
Burt waved. “Here she is now. Shayla, this is Kittie O’Donnell...sometimes known as Caitlin.”
“G’day, Kittie,” Shayla said in a broad Australian accent. “I’m from Brisbane. I guess you’re an old hand here.”
“Hi. I’m from Seattle. Do you...uh...want to go meet my horse? His name is Blue and he’s awesome. And I can show you other stuff around the ranch before we eat. If you want.”
“Mum, Dad, is that okay?” Shayla asked a man and woman standing nearby.
They both smiled at Caitlin. And, more importantly, they didn’t seem the least offended by her attire.
“Sure. Go on, then,” agreed Shayla’s father.
The two girls left as Mariah shook hands with the couple. “Welcome to the U-2, Mr. and Mrs. McFee. I’m Mariah Weston, the U-2’s business manager. This is Luke Branson, one of our neighbors, and Jacob O’Donnell, Caitlin’s father,” she said, introducing the two men.
“Pleased to meet you, but we’ll have none of that ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ nonsense. It’s Bill and Gladys. We’re not formal.”
“All right, Bill. Have you seen your tent?”
“We did that. A sight more comfortable than we thought it would be, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Mariah couldn’t resist a peek at Jacob; his face was cool and noncommittal. The U-2 didn’t pretend to provide luxurious accommodations, but you could stand up in the tents and there were thick mattresses to sleep on instead of hard, canvas-covered ground. The rest of the ranch’s facilities weren’t bad, either, no matter how he felt about them.
Luke tugged her away and they walked up to the ranch house to sit on the porch swing. She wanted to relax, yet her mind wouldn’t let her.
She went back to worrying about her reactions to Jacob. Though largely negative, were they more intense than what she felt for Luke? But she loved Luke, didn’t she? They were the perfect couple.
A future with Luke was surely far better than falling for a man who didn’t want to get married again or have more children...a guy who spent half the night on his computer after the other vacationers had gone to bed. She had little in common with Jacob beyond them both having quick tempers and enjoying Grams’s artistry with patchwork quilts. Sure, they both worked hard, but the ranch wasn’t just a profitable business for her; it was a way of life.
“This is nice,” she said finally.
“Except you don’t think you should be sitting while everyone else is working. Right?”
“Maybe. A little.”
It was true...and not true.
Mariah’s brain kept chewing over how much Jacob O’Donnell had occupied her thoughts since getting to Montana. It wasn’t reassuring, and what did it mean for her future with Luke?
CHAPTER NINE
THE MOON SHONE brightly through the bedroom window and Mariah rolled away from the light. It was the first time in a month she’d gotten to bed before midnight, and now she couldn’t sleep.
Luke had stayed for several hours. They’d eaten dinner, visited Moonfire in her stal, and generally avoided any subject more serious than whether vanilla or chocolate was the more popular flavor of ice cream. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk about important things with someone she loved, but she wasn’t doing well with anyone in her family, much less Luke.
Blast.
She punched at her pillow, only to hear Squash’s bad-tempered marrooow at the movement. Squash had moved to a corner of the mattress after she’d rolled over for the third time, probably figuring it was safer than being next to her. Now, thoroughly disgruntled, he jumped to the floor, likely headed for his bowl, since food was the cure for most of his feline ills.
Turning over again, Mariah stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t examined her feelings for a long while—as far as she’d been concerned, it was simply a question of when things at the U-2 would settle down enough that she could marry Luke.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
Did she love him the way a woman should love a man she was going to marry? He was her best friend. They’d practically grown up together and knew each other so well they could almost read each other’s minds. Or she’d thought so, until he began acting strangely.
She couldn’t remember...was Luke possessive before Jacob showed up with his daughter?
Mariah got up and restlessly wandered into the living room. The house was large, intended to accommodate a family made up of multiple Weston generations. Native stone formed the fireplaces, harking back to a period when heat was provided by wood and not a modern furnace. The kitchen and bathrooms hadn’t gotten updated since she was a kid, but they were big and solidly built. And the hardwood floors were worn to a smooth, rich patina from steady use and a hundred and ten years of cleanings.
The Ranch Solution Page 14