assisted at births where the foal seemed impossibly large, Mariah chuckled in sympathy. Most of her experience with animals came from years of ranch life and tagging after the local veterinarian. In college it was often a question of associating technical terms with something she already knew, which enabled her to carry a heavier course load than her fellow students. Back then she’d been in a hurry to get through school so she could take over for Dr. Crandall; now he had to find another vet to buy the practice. Mariah minded Dr. Crandall being unable to retire almost as much as she missed being a veterinarian herself—Doc couldn’t keep working forever.
She shifted and Squash dug the tips of his claws into her skin as a warning to stay put. “Tell me about the new arrival. I remember you bred Little Foot later than usual last year.”
“He’s exactly what I was hoping for—a chestnut, same as Little Foot, with her sleek, clean lines. Look, I gotta grab a shower and hit the sack. I just wanted to hear your voice before going to bed.”
The comment surprised her. It wasn’t like Luke to be sentimental.
“Oh, okay. Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
Mariah hung up and put her cat on the floor so she could do a walk-through in the guest area. She’d intended to get down there earlier—someone else had mentioned the noise from Susan and Chad’s tent, saying the newlyweds were “enthusiastic about their honeymooning.” It was said with a grin, but Mariah didn’t want the situation to escalate again.
Outside, the stars blazed across the sky and she walked in their faint glimmer to the slope opposite the house, Pip at her heels. Things seemed fairly peaceful. Susan and Chad were in a tent set apart from the main group—they were whispering and smothering a laugh as she passed, but it wasn’t too loud.
It would be noisier when more kids were visiting the ranch after school got out for summer vacation. Nobody could chatter like two girls making friends.
A guest, Judy Hartner, mumbled “Hi” to Mariah as she stumbled toward the restroom wearing flip-flops and a jacket over her pajamas.
Pip’s eyes pricked forward when he saw a light shining from one side of the O’Donnells’ tent. She could see the wheels turning in his mind...the hope of another midnight snack. He let out a yip and whined.
“No,” she breathed.
She slapped her thigh to get Pip’s attention and he followed her to the barn. The cowhands made rounds to check on the animals, but it didn’t hurt to check on them herself. Most of the horses were asleep and didn’t stir as she switched on the lights and looked into each stall; they were used to familiar people coming in at night. But Shadow peered out the moment he caught her scent.
“Hello, boy.”
He nudged her shoulder and she rubbed his velvety black nose. Extending his neck over the stable door, he sniffed her pocket with unerring accuracy.
Mariah laughed. “Okay, okay.” She took out the carrot she’d brought from the house and he crunched it down. “You are one pampered pony.”
“Pony?” said a voice.
Startled, Mariah spun, her heart pounding. His tail wagging furiously, Pip dashed to greet Jacob. This was the human being who’d provided him, however unwittingly, with a steak dinner. Without much effort, Jacob could be a friend for life, yet he didn’t pet Pip or even greet him.
Pip cocked his head, puzzled. “Rrrrffff.”
“Just a minute, boy,” he murmured. “I’m a little stiff.” He bent and gave Pip a slow stroke on his shoulders. The canine wriggled with delight.
Mariah raised her eyebrows. So Jacob was acknowledging he hadn’t escaped the day unscathed. Of course, he might be sorry he’d said anything in the morning...but he was going to be sorry, period. She knew what happened when you went riding after a long absence.
“I don’t suppose your grandmother has a hot tub filled with that liniment you referred to this morning,” Jacob said, straightening. “I’d like to spend the rest of the night in it. And maybe tomorrow.”
The corner of her mouth twitched—she hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor. “No, but an economy tube is available. I’ll unlock the dispensary for you. It doesn’t require an M.D. to hand out, though Grams prefers to manage first-aid services herself.”
“Don’t bother for tonight. I’ll survive...barely,” he added in a droll tone. “By the way, was your grandmother responsible for laundering my shirt after Pip used it as a doggy bowl? I threw it away, but found it in my tent this evening. My dry cleaner would claim it was impossible to get those grease stains out, and it looks perfect.”
“Possibly. Grams has many talents.” Mariah motioned at Pip to come to her. Some people didn’t like dogs—especially large ones—and there was definitely a lot of Pip to go around. “I was doing a quick patrol and saw your lantern was on. Are you having trouble dropping off after drinking all that coffee, or did Pip wake you up?”
“I drank the coffee for a reason. I’m reading contracts coming up for renewal in November and December.”
Contracts?
Naturally. What else?
He’d acted aloof and bored at the informal after-dinner social hour. Activity in the fresh air sent most of their visitors to bed by nine or ten, but first they mingled—singing or chatting or playing games in the mess tent. Jacob hadn’t participated; instead, he’d sat in the back, radiating tension, drinking regular coffee instead of decaf.
On the flip side, while Caitlin hadn’t been the soul of the party, she had played a game of checkers with Burt and gobbled down two servings of peach cobbler, topped by chocolate cake with ice cream and a glass of milk. Whatever was bothering her, it wasn’t her appetite. Since getting to the U-2, she’d eaten the same as any other teenager with a bottomless pit in place of a stomach.
“I see.”
She’d tried not to sound critical, but Jacob looked defensive. “I waited until Kittie was asleep before starting. And you’re working, too. How long a day does that make for you?”
“Summer is hectic. It’s a family business. We all work.”
“You have employees. Ever consider delegating?”
Delegating? Mariah pressed her lips together. She didn’t need management advice from a city-dwelling, money-obsessed workaholic. Delegation was fine, but everyone on the ranch had duties that kept them busy. As the business manager, she took care of odd tasks such as walking through the U-2’s tent town to see if the newlyweds were engaging in noisy sex and disturbing anyone.
“We get by,” she said finally.
Shadow nickered softly and nuzzled her neck, a reminder that the U-2 was about more than ledger sheets and keeping score with dollars and cents.
Mariah smiled, and this time Shadow got the apple she’d put in her left pocket. “And it isn’t just about the bottom line at the ranch. For example, when Shadow was born, I spent the entire night out here. Drowsed on a pile of hay with his head on my knee. And I’ll take that over curling up with a contract any day.”
“Don’t horses sleep standing up?”
“Nope. That’s kind of a myth. They go half-asleep on their feet, a part of their brain remaining alert for approaching danger. It’s a survival instinct—that way they can go from a drowsing state to running in nothing flat. But for deep sleep, they have to lie down. It’s complicated because lying down too long can also be a problem.”
She stroked the stallion’s mane. His coat gleamed from the thorough currying she’d given him. Unless she was occupied with an emergency, Mariah groomed Shadow herself, making sure he was clean and comfortable. She did it because she loved him, not because he contributed to the U-2’s profits. When you were responsible for animals that