Mariah went out to the garden.
“What did she say?” Caitlin asked anxiously.
“She thinks you look disgustingly healthy, but is always happy to play doctor.”
A weak giggle escaped the teenager. “I like Dr. Weston, and your grandfather is awesome, too.”
“Thanks. I’m pretty fond of them.”
They arrived as Grams was putting on her white coat. “Hello, Caitlin. Come in while I warm up my stethoscope.”
“I thought they were supposed to be cold.”
Grams smiled. “Not in Montana.”
Mariah went searching for Jacob. He’d offered to move bales of hay to the calf barn, so she checked first at the hay shelter. Nobody was there, though a load of hay had been recently hauled out.
At the barn Mariah found Jacob and Billy lifting the bales from the bed of the truck, their shirts straining tight over the muscles in their arms and shoulders. Jacob was working as hard as the other man, and in his jeans, hat and boots, he could be just another U-2 cowhand.
Yeah, right, she jeered to herself. Just another cowhand.
Jacob wasn’t “just” anything.
Obscenely wealthy or not, women probably chased him right and left. He’d said he was amazed when his wife had fallen for an ex-jock working his way through college, but Mariah would be willing to bet that Anna had taken one look and known instantly she wanted to marry him.
The final bale was deposited on the stack and Billy thanked Jacob for the help. Billy had largely recovered from his romantic misadventures—his black eye had healed and Grams had taken out the stitches on his scalp. Since most cowboys wore their hats indoors and out, the lingering scar wasn’t visible, though Mariah had heard he was still trying to earn Judy’s forgiveness.
“What’s up, Mariah?” Jacob asked after Billy drove away with the truck.
“I’ve been chatting with Caitlin.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It depends on your point of view.” Mariah perched on the edge of one of the pens. She suspected they’d be talking for a while. Or yelling. “Caitlin is worried the operation on her heart wasn’t successful.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Absurd or not, it’s what she believes. Apparently she tried to talk to you about it a few months ago and you brushed her off.”
“I told her she didn’t have to worry. There wasn’t anything else to say,” Jacob said, slapping dust and bits of hay from his jeans.
“She thinks there is, and because you weren’t willing to talk about it, she’s convinced you might be hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything. I want her to have a normal, happy childhood and not have to think about the fact that she had heart surgery when she was two.”
Mariah winced. This was the sort of thing she’d wanted to avoid when she’d told Jacob he’d have to deal with Caitlin’s issues himself. But now she was too deeply involved with both father and daughter to be neutral.
“Jacob, she’s growing up. Surely you can’t call the past year normal and happy. Not from what you’ve told me anyway.”
He set his mouth stubbornly.
“She’s fourteen, not four,” Mariah said, exasperated.
“Growing up is not the issue. We’ve already had this discussion. Though I see nothing wrong with letting her be a kid for a while longer.”
“Except it isn’t working. Honestly, her mother died of the same congenital heart defect. Did you really think she wouldn’t start putting two and two together?”
“Anna was diagnosed too late to be helped—it was different with Kittie.” His stiff face and squared shoulders gave Mariah a new appreciation for Caitlin’s reluctance to bring up a painful subject with her father.
“Maybe, but when she visited her maternal grandparents last year, she learned the attempt to correct her mother’s heart defect wasn’t successful.”
Jacob shook his head. “Anna never had surgery on her heart. She had some kind of lung infection when she was a teenager and they had to operate, but that’s all. Her condition wasn’t diagnosed until there was too much damage.”
Mariah frowned. “I remember you said that. But Caitlin is under the impression they tried to treat her mother surgically.”
“Just with medication. It was a stopgap while she was on the transplant waiting list. The Barretts must have said something that confused Kittie.”
“You still need to talk to her, and you can’t try to cut it short and tell her it’s nothing. You said yourself that she’s imaginative. The more she thinks you’re ducking the subject, the more she’s going to think something is seriously wrong.”
* * *
JACOB DIDN’T LIKE what he was hearing, yet it made a crazy kind of sense. Kittie had begun acting up after a visit to her maternal grandparents. When her actions became too outrageous, he’d taken her to several doctors to find out if there was a medical reason for her behavior; she could have gotten the idea that it was related to her heart.
“You’re right. Where is she?”
“Grams was going to do a quick check to reassure her—blood pressure, pulse, that kind of thing—then send her to work with Reggie. If you want, she can be present when you talk with Caitlin and answer any medical questions she might have.”
Why not? Confidentiality had gone out the window the minute Kittie began terrorizing the civilized world.
“I want you to be there, as well,” Jacob said slowly. He might not be sure of what he wanted from Mariah, but she had every right to be concerned about his daughter. How he’d come to that conclusion he didn’t know, but it was true. “Right now Kittie trusts you more than she trusts me. I can’t believe she’s been brooding about this.”
Mariah jumped down from her perch and put her hand on his arm. “For what it’s worth, she didn’t want to push talking about her mother because she knows you find it difficult. Strange as it sounds, she was trying to protect you, the way you were trying to protect her.”
Jacob pulled her close. “Thank you,” he whispered, eyes shut against the rush of emotions in his chest. The things Mariah made him feel scared him. He’d lost so much, and now he’d opened his heart to more potential pain.
Mariah had relaxed against him, only to stiffen and push away when they heard a couple of wranglers outside the barn.
“I’d like to speak with your grandmother first,” he said huskily.
“Um...sure.”
They found Elizabeth Weston at the dispensary doing an inventory on her supplies.
“How did Kittie seem?” Jacob asked.
“Healthy, but in a state of stress,” Dr. Weston replied. “She’s genuinely convinced you may be concealing something about her condition.”
“I’m not,” he said flatly. “Her cardiologist declared the operation an unqualified success. If it would make things easier, you can consult with him before I talk to Kittie.”
Dr. Weston agreed and he put a call through to Seattle, giving verbal permission for the specialist to speak with Dr. Weston. One part of his brain heard Elizabeth Weston’s side of the dialogue, while another part questioned if he’d missed something in Kittie’s behavior that might have explained why she was acting out. Could it really be about her heart? The dark clothing and gloomy music she’d been favoring seemed to fit the scenario.
“Thank you, Doctor, I’m sure Miss O’Donnell will be glad to hear it,” Elizabeth Weston said at length. “I’ll be in touch if anything else comes up.” She disconnected and returned Jacob’s cell phone to him. “Mariah, why don’t you bring Caitlin up to the house? She deserves privacy to hear all of this. I’ll walk up with Mr. O’Donnell.”
After Mariah left with obvious reluctance, Dr. Weston fixed him with a stern gaze.
“Jacob, you’re a
good father,” she said surprisingly.
“Uh...thanks.” He was certain she planned to ask his intentions toward Mariah, and he didn’t know what to say.
“So don’t just talk to Caitlin—listen to her. Sometimes the thing we need most is to be heard.”
He nodded and waited, but she simply patted his shoulder.
“Now, let’s go talk to your daughter.”
* * *
KITTIE GULPED WHEN SHE SAW Dr. Weston and Mariah and her dad in the Westons’ living room. Her dad looked solemn and anxious, the way she’d seen him look so often over the past year. It didn’t make her feel angry anymore, just guilty.
“Hi,” she said in a small voice.
“Hi. I understand you’re worried your heart surgery didn’t work.”
“Um...yeah.”
“Come here. You need to understand everything.”
They sat on the big, comfortable couch and he put an arm around her.
“Kittie, your condition was diagnosed a few months after you were born, and it was corrected when you were two. It was a long operation, but the specialist was one hundred percent satisfied with the result. The reason I didn’t talk about it was because I wanted you to have a carefree childhood.”
“But all the doctors and...and everything you dragged me to...they tested me for a gazillion things, poking at me and taking blood.”
Her dad sighed. “I was trying to find out if there was a physical cause for your change of behavior. I was concerned something else was wrong, not your heart. That never entered my mind or that you were worried about it—I should have realized.”
She hugged her tummy. He sounded awfully sure. “But you won’t let me do anything like other kids.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Kittie, parents always worry about their kids, but after your mom died, you were all I had left and I wanted to keep you safe. I got carried away, trying to make sure nothing could happen to you—it wasn’t because you weren’t healthy. It was because I couldn’t let go.”
Kittie blinked hard. “Are you sure?”
“Positive, but if you want to hear it from someone else, Dr. Weston can tell you. She just talked to the cardiologist who did your surgery.”
Dr. Weston smiled encouragingly. “It’s true, Caitlin. Your heart is entirely normal for a girl your age. Dr. Sandoval receives copies of your medical records whenever you see another physician, and he says everything is fine. He did suggest your father needs to stop being paranoid.”
Kittie smiled back, though her throat still felt tight. “I’m really okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“What about my mom?”
“She had the same condition, but they didn’t find it soon enough,” Dr. Weston explained. “With the surgery you had as a toddler, you’re perfectly healthy. Your mother wasn’t that fortunate. There was too much damage by the time she was diagnosed. I suspect it was partly because she was sick that they knew what to look for after you were born.”
Kittie scrubbed her face, but she couldn’t stop crying. She was going to live? For years and years? It seemed forever that she’d been afraid and now it was okay.
“By the way, I have something for you,” her dad said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of jewelry. “This belonged to your mother when she was a girl, and she wore it at our wedding. Your grandparents sent it, saying I’d know when I should give it to you. I think it should be now.”
Kittie’s eyes widened as he put the gold locket into her palm. It was pretty, decorated with scrolled flowers and leaves. She dropped her head on her dad’s shoulder, the tears falling faster than ever.
It wasn’t okay, after all.
She hadn’t told him everything.
* * *
JACOB HELD HIS DAUGHTER as she sobbed. It hurt knowing that she’d been dealing with her fear in silence, but at least he was finally doing something to help.
Dr. Weston left discreetly and Mariah got up, as well. Please stay, he mouthed. Though she seemed uneasy, she sat back down in her chair.
“It’s all right now,” he assured his daughter, praying she believed him. “You don’t have to cry. You’re going to be fine. I’ll try to give you more freedom and accept that you’re growing up—I’ll even try to call you Caitlin instead of Kittie if that’s what you want.”
Finally, sniffing, Kittie looked at him, her breath still coming in shuddering gasps.
“You will?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry I’ve spent so much time at my company. It’s just I thought if I had enough money, it would keep you safe and take care of any problems that might come up. I know I was wrong now. Money isn’t enough.” His gaze met Mariah’s—it was something she’d made him see.
“But you wanted to design airplanes,” she said, her eyes filling with tears again.
Crap. What had he said now?
“Kittie, that’s not important.”
“It is. You went to college to do that. You wanted to work for Boeing or even NASA to design spaceships. You were going to be an astronaut.”
“What?” Anna was the only person he’d ever told of his dream to be considered for the space program. “Where did you... Who told you that, Kittie?”
She chewed on her lip. “I...er...I found Mom’s diary at Nana Carolyn and Grandfather Barrett’s house. She thought it was grand that you wanted to go into space. She said grand a lot—it was like when I say awesome, though I don’t think...” Her voice trailed off. “Uh, never mind.”
The advice Elizabeth Weston had given Jacob rang in his ears...about listening. “I remember she called everything grand, but I didn’t know she’d kept a diary.”
Mariah got up again and determinedly slipped from the room, apparently deciding a father-daughter talk about Kittie’s mother was too personal. He heard the door open and close in the rear of the house,and didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry.
Kittie chewed on the edge her fingernail and her breathing became ragged again. “Mom wrote in it a lot, even after you guys got married. And she...she felt real bad about some things she didn’t tell you.”
“Sweetie, it’s all right,” Jacob murmured. He couldn’t imagine it being worth the stress it was putting Kittie through.
“No. I mean, Nana Carolyn wasn’t Mom’s biological mother—her first mother died really young from her heart, too. And Mom...well...she had an operation when she was a teenager,” Kittie stuttered nervously. “So she knew her heart was bad when you guys met. The doctor said it was a matter of time unless she got a transplant, and she knew it probably wasn’t going to happen.”
Jacob stared at his daughter. “You must have misunderstood. Your mother didn’t find out about her condition until after you were born—she would have told me.”
Kittie swung her head frantically. “Uh-uh. She was afraid you wouldn’t want her or want to have a baby if you knew. Nana Carolyn and Grandfather Barrett were unhappy when she got pregnant, but they didn’t tell, either, because she begged them not to. So it’s all our fault you didn’t get to be an astronaut or do any of the stuff you wanted,” she ended miserably. “Mom felt awful bad that she’d lied.”
Jacob tried to keep his face from reflecting his shock. None of this was Kittie’s fault. She wasn’t responsible for something Anna had done. He’d sort out his feelings later, but right now his daughter needed to know she was loved and wanted without reservation.
“Listen,” he said, brushing the wisps of blond hair away from his daughter’s forehead. “I could never regret having you, or one minute with your mother.”
“But you didn’t get to do what you wanted.”
“I got to have you as my daughter, and I would choose you over flying to the moon, or anything else.”
“But you’re so sad about Mom.”
He let out a long breath. “You’re right, I’m sad that she couldn’t be with us and didn’t get to see you grow up. I’m sad that you didn’t get to know her. But having you is the best thing that ever happened to me. I just wish I hadn’t wasted so much time working. Now you’re practically grown up and are more interested in boys than spending time with your old dad.”
A smile began to replace the tears on Kittie’s face. “I still want to spend time with my dad.”
“That’s a relief. You wouldn’t care to wait until you’re at least forty to move away from home, would you?”
She giggled. “I could stay for a while, but not forty. That’s, like, old. I can visit at Christmas and Easter, though.”
“No summers?”
“I’m gonna be in Montana during the summer. You can visit me here.”
“Ah, I see.” Jacob wasn’t sure where he was going to be during the summer, or the rest of the year, for that matter.
“Actually, I want to live here all year one day,” Kittie added. “Even if Mariah says that sometimes it’s cold and lonely in the winter after everybody goes home. Anyway, how can you get lonely when you have horses to keep you company?”
Jacob started to ask how she’d gotten into a chat with Mariah about living in Montana, then guessed it was likely because the McFees had left that morning. She’d known Kittie would be melancholy that her friend was going home.
“Maybe we could visit the McFees over Christmas,” he suggested. “December is in the middle of summer down there.”
“That would be dope,” Kittie exclaimed. “Shayla wants to teach me to surf.”
Dope?
Jacob’s expression must have mirrored his confusion because his daughter laughed.
“Dope means cool, Dad. Not drugs or stuff when you say it that way. Don’t you ever watch TV?”
“Not often.”
“I can go surfing, can’t I?” Kittie asked, and he knew it was a test of his promise to stop being so overprotective.
The Ranch Solution Page 26