Her Holiday Rancher

by Cathy McDavid

  Gabe wished he was a bigger person, one with more forgiveness in his heart. “I’m not sure I am. They knew Dad was dying, and they didn’t come out. Not until Hector called them and told them they were named as beneficiaries in Dad’s will.”

  “You assume it’s greed that brought them here.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Their mother’s parents have money, and they’ll probably inherit a portion.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to wait or they aren’t on good terms. Josh didn’t ask his grandparents to help with his attorney costs when he was fighting for custody of his kids.”

  “I don’t care what brought them here.” Raquel’s voice grew higher. “I’m glad they’re staying. For your father and for you.”

  “Why for me?”

  “You’ve felt all your life you weren’t as good as them.”

  “Not true.”

  “It is.” His mother gazed at him earnestly. “It’s also true you’re every bit as good as them and were loved by your father as much, if not more. Them being here will show you.”

  Gabe doubted that, but his mother could have a point. He was the son raised by his father his entire life. The one taught by him. Given his love. Not his brothers. Their anger and resentment might be because they didn’t think they were as good as Gabe. It was something to ponder.

  “I have to talk to them about the sick steer and our chances. It looks bleak, Mom.”

  “How bleak?”

  “We’re in trouble.”

  She stood and kissed the top of his head again. “You’ll figure this out. You and Reese.”

  Her optimism was sweet. And naive. They were in for the battle of their lives.

  His cell phone rang, and Gabe answered it, noting Reese’s number. “Hello.”

  “I don’t have good news,” she blurted.

  He propped an elbow on the table and rested his forehead in his hand. “You didn’t find any online suppliers with antibiotics.”

  “None of them will promise a shipment until after Christmas. And that isn’t all.”

  He didn’t like the tone in her voice. “What?”

  “Because of the shortage, prices are skyrocketing. Whatever supply we get our hands on will cost us top dollar.”

  Their situation was worse than yesterday.

  “Okay.” What else was there to say? Realistically, he’d expected this. Deep inside, he had hoped for more.

  “What time did you want me over there?” Reese asked.

  The meeting with his brothers, the one she was planning on attending. He’d momentarily forgotten.

  “After lunch. One o’clock.”

  “It’s going to work out,” Reese said.

  “I’m not sure how.” With his mother nearby, he didn’t dare say anything personal, even though she had correctly surmised he and Reese were involved. “See you soon,” he said and disconnected.

  “Not good news?” His mother came over when he’d disconnected from Reese.

  He explained the situation, unable to hide his disappointment. “If I could put off talking to Josh and Cole, I would.”

  “Don’t.” His mother shook her head. “Your father would expect you to do what’s right and take charge.”

  “Please stop defending him, Mom,” Gabe bit out. “I loved Dad and hate that he died, but let’s be honest. He really screwed things up. For all of us. You said so yourself.”

  “I’m not defending him.” She sounded hurt. “I’m supporting you. I don’t doubt for one second you will find the answers necessary to save Dos Estrellas.”

  She said the answers as if a red nose outbreak was no more serious than a skin rash.

  “We have to face facts.”

  “You must have faith,” she said before walking away.

  Faith? They needed a miracle. For the skies to clear, the grass to grow, the steer to recover and at least eight hundred healthy calves born next year.

  Rather than his spirits lifting, Gabe experienced the weight of his mistake pushing him further and further down. He might well be buried under one of those piles of snow he’d seen on the news last night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Normally, the land between the horse barn and the ranch house was dry as dust. When the rain fell in torrents, like today, the shallow wash filled with water within a matter of hours. It now resembled a raging river ten feet wide.

  Two years ago, Gabe’s father had crossed in the quad and inadvertently flooded the engine, resulting in hundreds of dollars’ worth of damage. Several times, when Gabe had been young and foolhardy, he’d daringly waded into the running wash, only to be swept away in the muddy water and carried a hundred feet before gaining his footing.

  This afternoon, he wasn’t so careless and crossed at the lowest point. It was a slow, arduous process, made more uncomfortable by his silently fuming brothers in the truck’s rear seat. Violet sat beside him and, every few seconds, cast him a concerned look.

  Moments ago, the four of them had come in from checking the herd yet again. More sick steer were discovered, bringing the total to over forty.

  Gabe alternately looked out the side window at the rushing water and ahead, through the windshield, at the bank on the other side. Rain slammed the glass and, combined with the swiftly thumping wipers, hampered his vision. Finally, the truck bumped and rocked as the front wheels climbed out of the water and onto solid ground. He heard a collective sigh of relief from his passengers.

  A five-foot-high slatted fence surrounded the house and yard, separating it from the horse stables, cattle barn, livestock pens, hay sheds and other outbuildings. Gabe rolled slowly through the gate and spotted Reese’s car in the driveway. He pulled up beside her vehicle and shut off the truck. All four doors simultaneously opened, and everyone piled out. The flaps of Gabe’s unfastened rain slicker blew open. He ignored the rain that pelted him, stinging his skin through his shirt and jeans, and soaking him to the bone.

  At the back door, they stomped the water and muck from their boots and removed their slickers before entering the mudroom. They wiped their boots with rags before entering the house. Gabe’s mother wouldn’t be happy if they tracked dirt and water on her clean floors.

  She’d opted out of the meeting, though Gabe had wanted her to attend. She’d claimed her presence might make his brothers uncomfortable and unwilling to express their opinions. She had fresh coffee waiting for them on the counter. Chai tea for Violet. They each grabbed a mug and a handful of Christmas sugar cookies.

  Reese sat in the dining room at the end of the table, holding a steaming mug. She glanced up as they entered the room. A musical, motion-activated Christmas tree on the buffet began playing “Jingle Bells.”

  Everyone stood stonily for the next ten seconds. After the music stopped, they sat.

  “Quite the rain we’re having,” Reese addressed to no one in particular.

  “It’s supposed to continue until tomorrow,” Violet remarked.

  Complete silence. No one was in the mood for small talk.

  Gabe’s gaze wandered the table. He was reminded of Thanksgiving dinner, the last time they had all been in this room together. That gathering had ended badly, with Josh and Cole storming out. Would this one end the same? Studying his brothers’ stern faces, he decided the odds were in favor of it. They hadn’t appreciated Gabe putting off their questions about the sick steer.

  “Shall we begin?” Reese deferred to Gabe.

  He’d thought of little else all morning except this meeting, even mentally rehearsing what he’d say. Now that the moment had arrived, his preparation deserted him.

  “You may have figured out we’re dealing with a bovine virus outbreak,” he began. “It’s called red nose and over forty of our steer are affected.”

&nbs
p; “Is it fatal?” Josh asked.

  “No.”

  “How did they contract it?” Cole demanded.

  “Some of the steer were sick when we bought them.”

  “Didn’t you check?”

  “Gabe took every precaution,” Reese insisted. “This could have happened to anyone.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. “But it happened to us.”

  Gabe didn’t rise to the bait Cole dangled, though he wanted to. Badly. “Between the snow storms back East and bovine virus outbreaks across the country, we’re having trouble buying the necessary antibiotics.” He paused. “We, all of us, need to decide a course of action.”

  “What do you suggest?” Josh asked.

  Gabe evaluated his older brother, searching for clues to his frame of mind. “Continue our attempts to purchase antibiotics at the best available price. Inspect the herd twice a day and quarantine the sick steer. Feed them what’s left of the supplemental hay and grain. Watch our other cattle for signs and isolate them if necessary.”

  “Quarantining is especially important,” Reese added. “It’s imperative we stop the red nose from spreading.”

  He’d been about to say the same thing. Coming from Reese, it smacked of criticism. He shifted uncomfortably.

  “It would be best to get the cattle out of the rain,” he said. “But we have no facility capable of accommodating that many sick steer.”

  Dos Estrellas had a cattle barn—a two-thousand-square-foot pen covered by a metal awning—but it was small, rundown and sorely inadequate for housing forty-plus head of sick steer.

  Of the two original cattle barns, one had fallen to dry rot five years ago. Gabe’s father hadn’t gotten around to replacing it, mostly due to lack of money. The other cattle barn was on the land dedicated to Cara’s mustang sanctuary and used for her horses.

  “I was at the Poco Dinero Saloon and Grill the other night,” Cole said. “Everyone was talking about the red nose outbreak.”

  “Your point?” Gabe asked.

  “The ranchers are having some big powwow Tuesday night at the community center.”

  Gabe frowned. “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Just repeating the talk.”

  He was tempted to check his phone to see if he’d missed a call or text during their hectic day. Wait. What if the local ranchers didn’t want to include him in the meeting because they believed he was responsible for bringing red nose to Mustang Valley? Or, maybe they didn’t see him as the owner of Dos Estrellas.

  A swig of coffee didn’t alleviate the bad taste in his mouth.

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” Josh asked with far less attitude than his brother. “We need to be prepared.”

  “The infection spreads,” Gabe said blandly. “We lose steer.”

  “How many?”

  “Between the lack of antibiotics and the foul weather, it could be five, ten percent. More if any other cattle become infected.”

  “Can we recover from that?”

  “Possibly. Probably,” he amended. “As long as we can inseminate the cows as planned and they don’t get sick.”

  “What if they do?”

  Gabe, Reese and Violet all exchanged glances. Red nose was hardest on pregnant cows.

  “They’ll likely miscarry,” Violet said.

  “Great.” Cole spat out a bitter laugh.

  “There’s still the mustang sanctuary.” Josh said. “If we had the five hundred acres, we could use the cattle barn and extra grazing land for isolating the sick steer.”

  “Nothing’s changed.” Gabe should have anticipated this question and was mad that he hadn’t. “We’d have to find a place for the horses.”

  “Why not sell them? We could use the money to buy antibiotics.”

  “Two hundred horses?”

  “Only enough for the cash we need to carry us through.”

  Gabe shook his head. “Sale proceeds have always gone back into the sanctuary.”

  “Didn’t Cara get money from the fund drive during the Holly Daze Festival?”

  “She has a lot of horses to feed.”

  “Have you asked her?” Josh’s demeanor changed with each question, going from civil to insistent to impatient to irritated.

  Gabe’s own irritation was rising. “I doubt we could sell the horses in time to make a difference. She has a detailed adoption process, matching the horse to the potential owner.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I have not asked her. Nor will I.”

  “Then, by all means, allow me.”

  “Stay away from Cara.” Gabe was glad she was visiting her mother. He wouldn’t have wanted her to witness how little his brothers cared.

  “If you lose the ranch,” Reese said, “she and your mom lose their home.”

  Gabe faced her. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “Josh’s suggestion has merit.”

  “I thought you liked Cara.”

  Reese jerked as if affronted. “I do. Very much. But, as the trustee of your father’s estate, I have to put the ranch first. Losing it will greatly affect your mother and Cara, who might be willing to help by selling some horses.”

  “No one buys a horse over Christmas.”

  “You didn’t get a pony for a gift when you were a kid?” Cole asked.

  “She could advertise them as Christmas presents,” Violet added.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Reese remarked thoughtfully.

  Gabe hated the satisfied expressions on his brothers’ faces. This shouldn’t be a contest, yet it felt like one, and Reese was choosing sides.

  He tried telling himself she was being impartial; her job at the bank dictated nothing less. But her agreeing with Josh hit him like an invisible sucker punch to the sternum. He and Reese had kissed. Expressed their growing feelings for each other. Shared secrets and private wishes. Discussed a potential future relationship when the time was right.

  And while he understood, the invisible blow still stunned him.

  “Isn’t it your responsibility to ensure my father’s plan is carried out?” he asked her.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, his plan included Cara keeping the mustang sanctuary.”

  “For as long as she wants it. She may choose differently, in light of the red nose epidemic.”

  “You can’t really think that. Her son died. The sanctuary is all she has. I won’t ask her to give it up.”

  “Like I said,” Josh interceded. “I’ll do it.”

  Gabe didn’t realize he was standing until the musical Christmas tree started playing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”

  “Gabe, please sit down,” Reese said.

  He ignored her.

  Reese ignored him and addressed his brothers. “There are other solutions than closing the mustang sanctuary or selling horses. We should explore those, too.”

  Take the higher road, Gabe’s father and Reese had both advised. If he stormed out of the room, he would gain nothing and likely lose considerable ground.

  “I’m listening.”

  He sat at the same time the musical Christmas tree stopped playing. Good thing, because he was ready to throw it across the room.

  * * *

  REESE HAD WORKED in the banking business for over six years. In that time, she’d seldom panicked. Today was one of those rare occasions. Gabe and his brothers didn’t agree on anything and insisted on battling. It was her job to mediate, offer ideas and guide them in the right direction.

  Frankly, she didn’t know if she was capable of it. And if she failed...

  No, not an option.

  “The insurance settlement your mother received,” Josh said to Gabe. “She
could float us a loan.”

  “Forget it. My father took out that policy so she’d have a nest egg.”

  “You’re right.” Josh placed his palms on the table top and breathed deeply. “Because she’s going to need the money when we lose the ranch.”

  Gabe clenched his teeth, then forced himself to breathe evenly. “Funny how every solution you come up with involves my family giving up what Dad left them. What are you willing to give up?”

  “Now wait a minute,” Cole snapped.

  “Don’t tell me you’re broke. Your grandparents are loaded.”

  Josh’s head snapped up. “We’re not asking my grandparents for money.”

  “But I’m supposed to ask my family.”

  Reese had reached her limit—for the third time. “Your mother may want to lend you the money.”

  Gabe gawked at her.

  “You should at least ask her.”

  “Me,” he stated flatly.

  “You did buy the infected steer,” Cole reminded him.

  Before Gabe could retaliate, Reese interrupted.

  “This is every bit my fault as Gabe’s. I authorized the draw on the line of credit.”

  “But you don’t have to bear the consequences,” Josh stated.

  “My position at the bank could come under examination.”

  Cole stared at her hard. “When you authorized the draw, is it possible your judgment was affected by your relationship with Gabe?”

  She’d wondered when this question would be asked and by whom.

  “Gabe and I are friends.” Not a lie. “Nothing more.” An exaggeration. “We agreed to maintain a strictly professional relationship.” The honest truth.

  She shot Gabe the briefest of glances and was surprised to see his features harden. Wasn’t that what they’d agreed on?

  “I’ve heard a different version around town,” Cole said.

  Probably at the Poco Dinero Saloon and Grill. Reese swore men were worse gossips than women.

  “You have nothing to worry about in that regard,” she assured him.