Julianna Morris - The Ranch Solution

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.”

Both animals quieted.

“I have the first-aid kit,” Jacob said when she looked up. He lifted the canvas pack that was a standard piece of equipment on the U-2.

Mariah took the kit. “Thank you. Stay with Caitlin, and we’ll take it from here.” They couldn’t let guests be involved in this kind of situation. It was funny, though. Jacob didn’t seem bothered that he might get injured himself at the ranch, just that his daughter be kept safe.

He stuck out his chin. “What about that guy?” he asked as Luke rolled up his sleeves.

“That ‘guy’ is our neighbor and an old hand at doctoring livestock. Luke Branson, meet Jacob O’Donnell.”

The two men gave each other measuring looks, testosterone zinging through the air, and she sighed in disgust. Men were men, regardless of where they’d grown up. She’d have to intervene before they started chest bumping or doing something equally stupid to prove their masculinity.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. O’Donnell, your job here is to reassure your daughter.”

“It’s Jacob, and I’m going to help. Kittie is fine. I told her to stay well back on her horse.”

“She’s the color of old paste and needs her father more than we need you getting in our way. You’re just delaying treatment for this cow by arguing with me.”

“That’s right,” Luke added, and Mariah dug her elbow into his rib cage. Did he think she couldn’t cope with Jacob O’Donnell on her own? She did not need his assistance; he would simply make it worse. He ought to have figured out by now that the Westons took care of their own troubles.

“Please...Jacob,” she said. “We have it under control.”

He glared darkly and stomped away.

Caring for the cow’s cut was messy and unpleasant, but Mariah finished as quickly as she could in order to make it easier on the animal and her calf. Burt untied the cow’s legs and she lunged to her feet, restrained from further movement by the lasso around her neck. Range cattle were tough; they could be down to their last ounce of strength and still be dangerous. She wouldn’t like being corralled, but the wound was septic and severe enough to warrant a few days back at the ranch.

Mariah dropped another rope over the calf’s head. “Caitlin?” she said, motioning to her.

The teenager swallowed. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, you found her before it got too bad. I want you to take the lead. The mother will follow her baby, so go nice and slow.”

“I don’t...um...don’t know the way.”

“You don’t have to. You’re riding Blue—he knows the ranch better than the rest of us. Say ‘Home, Blue,’ and he’ll get us there.” She gave Caitlin the end of the rope and focused on Luke. He’d hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his denims and was giving her a quizzical look. “You aren’t coming with us,” she informed him.

“You’re mad at me.”

“What gives you that idea?”

He laughed and kissed her lightly. “It was easy. I’ve known you since birth and recognize that expression in your eyes—it’s the same one you had when you were seven and hit me with a horseshoe. Am I still invited to the dance on Saturday?”

“You’re always invited. You know that.”

As he rode off, Mariah climbed onto Shadow. She was annoyed, but it wouldn’t last long. Luke was a handsome man, with the powerful build of someone who worked hard every day of his life, but she was surrounded by good-looking cowboys and sexy visitors like Jacob O’Donnell. It wasn’t Luke’s appearance that set him apart—it was the friendship that had survived childish squabbling, years away at school, and her need to concentrate on Reid and repay her school expenses before making a commitment. It didn’t matter how much you loved someone. You had to believe in the same things to have a lasting relationship.

When they were ready to leave, Caitlin said “Home, Blue” in a high, squeaky voice. She held the rope in a white-knuckled grip as Blue ambled toward the ranch. He had more common sense than most people, which was why she’d chosen him for Caitlin.

The cow limped forward, attention fixed on her calf. The baby was young, born late in the spring drop, but it wouldn’t be orphaned like the other calves they fostered annually.

Jacob jockeyed his horse next to Mariah. “She’s scared,” he muttered.

“Responsibility is scary, but that isn’t a reason not to take any.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“But?”

His jaw set stubbornly. “She’s just a kid and this must feel like life and death to her. It’s too much.”

“She’s leading a calf to the barn, not doing brain surgery,” Mariah said drily. “I think she can handle it, but if you’re so worried, you could ride with her instead of complaining to me about it.”

Jacob scowled. “I’m planning to. It’s just that you don’t know anything about my daughter, so you don’t know what she can or can’t handle.”

“You’re right, we don’t know her. Which begs the question...why did you think we could do something to help her if you couldn’t do it yourself?” Mariah winced as soon as the retort left her mouth. So much for her resolution to treat Jacob like any other guest.

“Hell. Are you rude to everyone, or am I special?”

He was special all right...especially irritating.

She couldn’t deny that Jacob’s lean, masculine intensity pulled at her senses. Physically he was a compelling man; it was his other parts she wasn’t so crazy about.