“But I’ve changed, and I don’t even know how...”
Luke was silent for several minutes, then released a heavy sigh. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve been distracted and distant the past year, but especially lately.”
“Is that why you started coming to the U-2 so often?”
“I suppose. A last-ditch effort to hold on to you. I wasn’t being fair, but it’s difficult to be fair when you really want something.”
“No, it’s my fault,” she said miserably. “You must be furious.”
A sad, faintly humorous smile curved Luke’s mouth. “Don’t go Joan of Arc on me, Mariah. I could have forced the issue. It was my decision as much as yours.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Except that isn’t enough...for either one of us.” He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. “I love you, but if I’m not what you want, time isn’t going to make a lick of difference—you’ve had time.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss and pushed her back to her truck, closing the door behind her after she hopped into the cab. “Call if you need me for something,” he said, slapping the door and stepping away.
Mariah drove off the Branson spread and pulled to the side of the road, trying to stop from shaking. If only Luke had gotten angry, yelled at her, accused her of leading him on...anything. He could be as unreasonable and argumentative as any other person—they’d had some terrific battles in the past—but instead he’d been understanding. And honest. She’d asked for time, but he’d known their engagement had to end.
She blinked rapidly to keep from crying. She didn’t have any business crying—it was Luke who’d gotten hurt. He’d wasted years waiting for her. And now she didn’t even know if they could salvage their friendship.
* * *
TWO DAYS LATER Mariah went to Billings for supplies, welcoming the solitude of the long drive and the absence of her family’s curiosity. She hadn’t told anyone about her talk with Luke, but they’d sensed something had happened.
The shopping took hours. A grocery supplier delivered goods like cornmeal, flour and beans, and the rest of their needs were purchased every Thursday in Billings. Mariah alternated trips with the wranglers.
The list included Reggie’s special items for the kitchen and required a number of stops. At her request he’d checked the bourbon whiskey he kept to flavor his barbecue sauce—the punch had indeed been spiked with the same brand—but none was missing from the locked cabinet where it was stored. She decided to get a new padlock to be safe. Fortunately most people who knew about the incident seemed to think it was funny.
It was late in the afternoon when Mariah got back. She honked and the ranch hands within earshot showed up to unload the truck and sort out the contents.
“Burt, what are you doing here?” she queried, surprised to see him in the group.
He gave her a level look. “Waitin’ for you to get here. Mr. O’Donnell let Kittie go out with Shayla McFee and her folks.”
“What?”
“They left before I knew about it. O’Donnell said afterward that he had a problem with his company to handle.”
Her lips tightened. Visitors often made friends and wanted to work together—the wranglers used their judgment when a request was received. It was Jacob’s judgment that bothered her. She’d made it clear that he was to cope with Caitlin and her issues himself—not push them onto others.
“Where is he?”
Burt shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t see him at lunch, but that fancy car is sittin’ out there, so he’s not in Buckeye.” His eyes glinted and she could see he was genuinely annoyed, which was rare for Burt. He was usually tolerant of greenhorns and the mistakes they could make.
As quickly as possible, Mariah excused herself and went looking for Jacob. He wasn’t in his tent or around the barns or other guest areas, and the horse she’d assigned him was drowsing in the corral. Gritting her teeth, she went up to the house, wondering if Reid was home from school and might know something. Grams and Granddad weren’t available—Grams worked at the Buckeye Medical clinic on Thursdays, and Granddad had driven to the Big Horn Mountains to visit a childhood friend who’d broken his leg.
Broken leg... There was a sobering prospect. Maybe Jacob had gone for a walk and was lost or had gotten injured. If he didn’t show up soon, they’d have to send wranglers out to look for him. Wouldn’t it be ironic if Mr. Overprotective Father had to be rescued himself?
Faint sounds came from the ranch office and she headed that direction, expecting to find Reid, but instead walked in on Jacob. He was multitasking, furiously typing on her computer while talking on the phone. On top of that, everything had gotten shoved about to make room for his laptop.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He held up his arm in an imperious you’ll-have-to wait gesture. “That isn’t acceptable,” he said into the receiver. “This isn’t the first incident of this kind, and I want to know what you’ll do to remedy the situation. You’re getting one more chance because we’ve been allied for years. That’s it.”
Mariah wanted to rip the cord from the wall but didn’t since it would take a week for the local phone company to repair. Her temper rose as Jacob continued talking, and reached the boiling point when she found a faxed reservation request in the recycle trash can. Irate, she leaned across him and hit the flash button on the phone, knowing from experience it would disconnect the line.
“What the...?” Jacob slammed the receiver down and glared. “I was in the middle of something important.”
She waved the fax in his face. “You threw away a reservation. What makes you think your business is more important than anyone else’s?”
He glanced at the sheet of paper. “Sorry, it must have gotten in with the other trash by accident, but that was no reason to disconnect my call.”
“An accident? Oh, well, that makes it all right,” Mariah said sarcastically. “For your information, this is my office, not yours.”
She stepped forward, only to catch the toe of her boot on a stack of books he’d piled on the floor. Jacob caught her before she landed on his laptop, and for a shocked moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. His gaze traced her lips, focused on them with a hunger she recognized...and shared. Perhaps being with him wasn’t such an implausible idea. They could try to see if they...
No.
She squirmed free. “I can’t believe anyone on the U-2 gave you permission to come in here and take over. This is our home, not a public space. Our visitors have always respected our privacy until you got here.”
“I didn’t have permission,” he admitted. “No one was here. But I didn’t go into the house. I stayed in the office. An issue cropped up with my company and I had to take care of it. I run a global business and can’t let a deal just fall apart. There’s a lot of money at stake.”
“My, my, aren’t you special?” Mariah clenched her fists. “You would have done better arguing that people’s livelihoods could have gotten hurt, instead of your wallet. But you aren’t personally concerned for your employees, are you? They’re only figures on a payroll.”
“That’s not true. I take care of my staff.”
“Because it’s good business. You said so yourself. And what about your cell phone? That Bluetooth device is embedded in your ear. You could have used it to make your calls.”
“I’m using the cell as a modem for my laptop.”
“Then why are you using my computer?”
“I needed both.” He looked slightly abashed, but nowhere near as repentant as he ought to be. “We have dual computer monitors at my company, where you can look at two documents or emails side by side. It’s a much more efficient way of working.”
Mariah let out a shr
iek. “This isn’t your company and your bottom line isn’t any more critical than ours.”
“Look, it was only one reservation and I’m sure I would have found it. I planned to clear up after myself.”
“You really don’t have a clue, do you?” she said, torn between fury and pure astonishment that he could be so blind. “Ranching isn’t predictable. Our vacation business supports ranchers for fifty miles around by providing jobs and income to get them through the lean periods. Our business relies heavily on word of mouth, so we don’t screw up reservations. We cannot afford to.”
He snorted. “Judging by your daily rate, you’re doing fine. Granted, I pay much more when I visit the Caribbean, but then I’m staying at a luxury Caribbean resort, not a tent.”
“That again? You’re a businessman. You should have figured something out by now—like how much it costs to run the U-2. For one thing, we have to hire half as many ranch hands as we have paying guests. Then there’s insurance, food and other bills on top of that. But hey, I have an idea how to increase our bottom line—we’ll tell everyone to bring their own toilet paper and coffee. Think of how many gallons we would have saved on you already.”
Jacob frowned and Mariah couldn’t tell if he was irritated or actually thinking about what she’d said.
“I’ll pay more for the inconvenience.”
Obviously, not thinking about what she’d told him.
“How can you claim you want to help Caitlin when you consistently put work and profit first?” she challenged. “For Pete’s sake, you have couriers coming to the ranch every day, delivering and picking up parcels related to your company. You’re up late at night, working and making calls, so you’re sleep deprived when you do spend time with her. What message does it send when all you think about is business?”
“My daughter—”
“Is out riding her horse and moving cattle with people you met less than a week ago,” Mariah interrupted. “You let her go with them because you wanted to work on a business deal. I’m sure she appreciates coming so low on your list of priorities.”
CHAPTER TEN
“DON’T BE RIDICULOUS. Kittie is the most important thing in the world to me,” Jacob snapped. He stood, expecting Mariah to step backward, but she crossed her arms over her stomach and glared without moving an inch.
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
“We’ve already had this argument.”
“And I’m sure we’ll have it again if you pull anything else like disrupting our office.”
His jaw hardened. Okay, he shouldn’t have used the U-2’s office without permission, but he’d learned something interesting from his hours working there. He lifted Mariah’s scratch pad, covered with numbers and names, and thrust it under her nose.
“Speaking of ‘pulling’ something, I see you contacted Kittie’s school and some other places in Seattle. Officer Rizzoli, for example. I trust he reminded you that information regarding a minor can’t be disclosed.”
Mariah shrugged and took the pad from him. “I wasn’t pulling anything. I was simply verifying that your version of the fire was accurate. You honestly don’t get it, do you? We’re responsible for our visitors and over two thousand animals. For everyone’s sake I had to be sure Caitlin wasn’t guilty of arson. If you had a shred of understanding you’d see that anybody would have done the same, but you’re so arrogant you think you’re the exception to every rule.”
Jacob’s anger cooled as quickly as it had flared. Mariah had a point—not about him being arrogant, but about her responsibilities. He would have checked up on Kittie, too, if their situations were reversed.
“So, what did the school and police say? I assume they corroborated what I told you.”
“Nothing personal. Garrison Academy wouldn’t answer any questions. The police department was discreet, but Officer Rizolli confirmed it was an accident. He said ‘the student’ tried to put out the fire and pulled the alarm when she was unsuccessful. It would have been nice if you’d told me that part of the story—I wouldn’t have worried as much.”
Kittie had tried to put out the fire?
Jacob didn’t recall being told that, either, and a chill went through him, because fighting a fire was dangerous. He attempted to keep his expression neutral, thinking of the afternoon he’d been summoned to the school and the adrenaline shooting through his system—the anger and fear that Kittie was spinning so far out of control that he’d never get her back. The principal had ranted, practically spitting with outrage, and Rizolli had lectured with crisp precision. Yet neither of them had revealed that she’d called the fire department or tried to extinguish the blaze.
You could have asked...
The internal voice was annoying...and right. He could have asked more questions instead of trying to get his daughter off school property as fast as possible. And just as annoying was the realization that Mariah probably would have insisted on knowing every detail. As a matter of fact, if he’d listened to Mariah better, he wouldn’t have asked Kittie if she had spiked the punch at the barn dance on Saturday night.
The memory made him wince.
Mariah might have suspected Kittie, but she’d warned him there wasn’t any evidence and that it could have been anyone. Yet without proof and just the burden of her history to hold against her, he’d confronted Kittie when they were out riding on Monday.
He could have incinerated a steak on the scathing look she’d given him.
“Sorry,” Jacob muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Kittie and her new friend should be returning soon. I want to be there when they ride in.”
He powered down his laptop and gathered the remainder of his belongings. But it wasn’t until he was halfway to his tent that he remembered he hadn’t left money to cover the phone calls he’d made to Seattle and overseas. And other tasks remained undone as well, though he’d intended to put everything back where he’d found it.
Hell. He’d really blown things, both with Mariah and Kittie. In retrospect, he knew the issue with his company hadn’t been that serious, but he’d used it as an excuse to avoid his daughter and the hatred she seemed to have for him. At least the past few days had passed without any outbursts from her. Though Kittie had ignored him, she’d acted reasonably polite and cooperative with everyone else.
Deciding to give Mariah a chance to calm down before returning to the office, he stopped by the mess tent. “Hey, Burt,” Jacob said when he saw the wrangler.
“Did you get your business settled, Mr. O’Donnell?” Burt’s tone was unusually formal and it didn’t take any intuition to know he was upset, as well.
Great.
Kittie was making friends, and he was driving them away.
“Partially. About this morning, I realize I should have spoken with you before letting Kittie go with Shayla and her family.”
“We had work to do, Mr. O’Donnell. A ranch don’t run itself.” Without another word, he put his coffee cup on a tray and stomped away.
Jacob grimaced. The day was just getting better and better, and the ache in his groin wasn’t helping.
Hellfire, he couldn’t deny wanting Mariah, and having her land on his lap had made it a hundred times worse. It wasn’t just work and caffeine keeping him awake at night—it was a grinding need that wouldn’t go away. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, but there was something about her that compelled him physically.
Compared to the women he usually dated, she was exotic. Perhaps that was the appeal.
The mess tent, though it supplied coffee eighteen hours a day, was suddenly unappealing, and Jacob wished he could go riding. Odd, after spending a week and a half in the open air, it had felt tedious being shut up in a room in front of a computer screen. But he realized that a ride was out of the question; he needed to wait for Kittie.
>
He went outside and watched. Ten minutes later Kittie and the McFees rode over the hill. They were laughing, along with their wrangler, and they dismounted by the foremost barn, chattering away as if they’d known each other forever. It was a relief to see his daughter bonding with the wholesome Aussie teen, despite the differences in their backgrounds. Kittie had friends in Seattle, but for all he knew they were part of her problem.
“You should get ready for dinner now. The bathrooms can get awfully busy when everyone comes back,” Kittie said to the McFees. “I’ll groom the horses before feeding the baby calves.” She sounded as if she’d always lived on a ranch and was accustomed to handling the list of chores.
“I’ll go with you,” Shayla said.
“Thanks, ladies,” Bill told them heartily. “It was a ripper day, but I’m looking forward to a seat that doesn’t keep rocking.”
Kittie’s bright smile faded when Jacob came closer. She scowled at him and turned away deliberately. “Come on, Shayla, I’ll show you what to do.”
The two girls and the wrangler took the horses into the barn. Jacob sighed, discouraged. They’d obviously had fun, but it hadn’t changed his daughter’s attitude toward him.
Was Mariah right—did Kittie believe she came second to his work? Could that be what she was so angry about?
It was a sobering thought. He’d gone into business to provide for his daughter and repay the money he had borrowed from his in-laws, yet even after achieving both goals he’d continued to spend a significant amount of time at the office. Running his own company had been more challenging and satisfying than he’d expected after giving up a career in engineering. It had consumed him. He might have even subconsciously dismissed the U-2 as a business because it was so small in comparison.
Mariah’s furious declaration that the U-2 helped support ranches for miles around still rang in his ears. It really mattered to her, and he could now see how critical the ranch might be to the local economy. What was more, he hadn’t taken the operating costs into account when considering their rates—all he’d seen were the canvas tents and communal restrooms.
The Ranch Solution Page 16