Between Hope & the Highway (8 page)

“Why aren’t you eating with the other hands? You’re not part of this family.”

Her cheeks colored. “Uh, I, uh…”

Her stuttering made me gloat. Now I could shove the camel back a few painful steps. “Do you think you’re special or something?”

Despite her willowy figure and china doll features, she wasn’t dainty when it came to eating. Ignoring my question, she practically inhaled pancakes and eggs as if it was her last meal.

Dad entered, brushing off his jeans and throwing his hat onto a peg on the wall. As he took the head seat, I yelled to Mom that he’d arrived. He scowled at me before turning to the intruder.

“Morning, Liz.” She received a smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Law.” She stuffed her mouth with a last bite of eggs and set her napkin on her plate. “I’d better get back to work.” She stood. “Thanks, Charity,” she called as she passed the kitchen.

Mom ran out to hug her. “Are you rushing away already? The sausages are almost done.”

“That’s okay. I had enough. Besides, I need to get started since I’m taking the kids to the movie later.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Mom beamed. “Have fun.”

When the door shut behind her, I stared at Dad. “What was that all about? Did you go and adopt a sister for me while I was away? Since when do you let hired hands eat at our table?”

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, but I didn’t care. It irked me how he hadn’t bothered to greet me, yet had welcomed and smiled at the girl. He never smiled at anyone but Mom and Addie.

Mom bustled into the room with a plate of sizzling sausages.

I smacked my lips. “Man alive, I’ve missed your cooking, Mama.”

She hugged me from behind my chair. “I’ve missed you.”

Stabbing three sausages, I pulled them onto my plate. “Spoken like a true mom.”

Benny entered. His dark hair stood up in back and his eyes appeared goopy with sleep. He grimaced as he took a step, and I knew he must’ve had a bad night. Mom had informed me that with his growth spurt, his legs hurt worse than ever. I gulped, realizing what my stupidity had stolen from him. When he saw me, his face lit up.

“Hey, Big Ben. You look like hell.”

He laughed as Mom swatted me. “Did Lizzie already leave?” he asked.

“You just missed her.” Mom set a loaded plate in front of Dad and started piling another with pancakes for my brother.

“Shucks. I wanted to catch her before she headed out.” He pursed his lips. “Guess I shouldn’t have dressed.”

Pancake lodged in my throat. Ever since I arrived home, I’d felt a tangible difference, but hadn’t been able to put my finger on it. Now the truth hit me. I usually occupied the center of Benny’s and Addie’s universe, but my orbit had been shifted by that meddling girl. The camel had pushed me out of the tent.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I swear she shoveled coal to keep a train going the way she inhaled breakfast.”

Dad hissed and shook his head at my words. That’s how he showed displeasure. I should know. I’d been the cause of that reaction all my life.

Benny grabbed five sausages. “I don’t think I can go to the movie. My leg hurts super bad.”

Mom frowned. “Heaven help us. Your sister isn’t going to be happy about that.”

“Maybe Liz could just take her.”

Mom did one of her “Hmmms”’ that meant
probably not
.

After we finished breakfast, I headed to Dad’s office. Entering through his open door, I dropped a blue file folder onto his desk. As he raised his head, I stared down at him, taking advantage of my height.

“Here are my plans for getting a higher margin back on the cattle. I’ve also outlined a proposal for venturing into horse racing in the next few years.” I didn’t bother with a greeting. The less said between us, the better.

Dad expression barely concealed his loathing. “What makes you think I need to change anything? The ranch had a gross margin return of thirty-three percent last year with all land owned. Our profit was the highest it’s been in a decade.”

“But you didn’t figure in opportunity costs,” I argued. “If you charged opportunity interest on the value of the cattle, that adds more direct costs and cuts your return on the beginning inventory by maybe ten percent. Then there’s opportunity rental—”

“Son, I don’t have time to discuss made-up economic scenarios. You’re not in class anymore. There’s real work to be done.”

“But you’re under-utilizing your—”

“You’re not the only Law who graduated from college. I have my degree from Stanford too, you know.”

“But you’re stuck in the past. At least look this over.” I touched the thick folder of papers I’d invested countless hours of research in over the last few months. “These could put the Bar-M-Law Ranch on the map.”

“Son, you have big dreams but no experience to back them up. Put in a full day of work before you perform slick number tricks on a spreadsheet.”

I clenched my jaw.

“You haven’t spent more than a couple weeks here since you left four years ago. Maybe we’ll talk after you’ve broken a sweat. Right now you’re just a liability on the books with all I’ve dished out for your education.”

“You forced me to go to Stanford.” His expression warned I was treading on thin ice, but it frustrated me that he wouldn’t even take a peek at my work. “My plans would more than pay back my debt. Just my scenario for improving cattle reproductive performance would set you ahead financially by the end of this year. We could increase calving and weaning rates while lowering production costs and—”

“Book smarts won’t save this ranch. Hard work and commitment will—and has. You haven’t dirtied your hands since high school. If I turned you loose, you’d supplement the cattle and run this operation into the ground before winter ended.”

I scowled.

“They don’t teach you everything in business school. There are practical lessons you only learn from years of hard work and comparing notes with other producers and regional ag groups. Maybe in a few years we’ll talk…when you’ve had a chance to impress me.”

“You’re impossible to please.”

“I didn’t say please me. I said impress me. Show me you have what it takes to run this ranch. Intellectual research isn’t enough. Any city slicker can make things work on paper. I know you’re smart, but your genius has landed you in trouble in the past, and I haven’t seen evidence of change. I don’t want smarts. I want dedicated commitment. That means you make wise choices in your time, your family relationships, and your friends.”

“Oh, not this again. Are you going to hold Damon over me forever? It was a mistake, Dad. He paid the price. Let it go.”

“You’re a smart kid, Rawson, but—”

“I’m not a kid. I’m a man.”

“As long as you live under my roof and subsist on my money, you’re a kid to me. And if you even sniff in the direction of that loser friend of yours, I’ll never trust you to handle even the chicken coop. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” I grabbed my folder, making sure my middle finger was aimed at him before marching out of his office.

As I started down the stairs, I felt more determined than ever to help Damon, if only to spite my stubborn old man.

Chapter 13

Liz

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I stooped to gather papers I’d caused Rawson Law to drop as I ran into him at the bottom of the stairs. Crashing into each other was becoming a nasty habit. “I didn’t see you.”

“Obviously.” He grit his teeth as he yanked the loose papers from my hands.

Ever since he showed up last night, a charged cloud of tension had hung about the ranch, ready to shock anyone who got too close. I’d felt sorry for him at first, but didn’t pity him anymore. The man was rude. At meals, he threw condescending smirks or questions my way, and I could read dislike in his beautiful eyes as plain as if it had been written there in permanent black ink.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me, Miss Ruthersford?”

Too late, I realized I’d been doing just that…but not for the reason the arrogant man insinuated. I was only trying to decide what I had done to deserve his scorn.

“Uh, I need to speak to your father.”

With a mocking bow, he gestured for me to pass. “Enter at your own risk. He’s in a foul mood.”

That was certainly calling the kettle black. I started up the steps, rubbing my arms. Negative vibes clung to Rawson like static electricity, shocking everyone he passed. Even sweet Benny seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. I frowned as I recalled how he’d ditched out on our movie adventure for this afternoon.

When I reached Mr. Law’s office, I took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” he called.

I entered with a smile, the best weapon against bad moods, or so I hoped. “Larry said you needed to talk to me.”

He motioned for me to take a seat. “He told me what you did with Fargo Noon. I wanted to pick your brain about some of the other horses.”

Oh, good. He wasn’t going to fire me. I’d worried about that now that his son had returned. Breathing a little easier, I leaned forward to talk about my favorite subject. Fears fell away and time ceased to exist as we discussed all of my equine charges in detail. When he began sharing his ideas for the future, I became overconfident and shook my head.

“I don’t think that’s the best plan.”

As his eyes narrowed, I wished to snatch back my word. He leaned back in his seat.

“What do you have against selling off the two-year-olds?”

I squirmed. “Uh, I just think you could get more back on your investment if you put in another year of training.”

His fingers tapped together. “Remind me of your credentials. You went to the University of Utah, correct?”

My cheeks flamed. “Only for a semester. I don’t have any formal equestrian training. It’s just a hunch, but I feel strongly that it’d be a win-win for you and your clients.”

“Well, your hunches have been dead-on up to this point, so work up a training schedule with Abe and Larry and run it past me. I think you could be onto something.”

“Are you kidding me?”

I flipped around to see Rawson standing in the doorway looking like an angry bull in a rodeo chute.

“A high school girl who loves horses has a
hunch
and you fall all over yourself to let her run with it, yet you won’t even read over my plans I spent months researching?”

“Why are you eavesdropping on a private conversation?” Mr. Law growled.

“Trying to keep one step ahead of you so you don’t run this ranch into the ground before I have a chance to manage it. I can’t believe you’re listening to this girl.”

My jaw dropped.
Girl
had never sounded so derogatory.

“Get out!” Mr. Law roared as he stood and pointed to the door.

I wished to disappear and not be an eyewitness to this ugly father-son confrontation. Rawson glared at me before storming out. As I heard his heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs, I released a shaky breath.

Mr. Law’s fists relaxed. “Sorry you had to witness that. My son can be a royal jackass.”

I winced.

His eyes crinkled. “Forgive me, but it’s the kindest word I can think of for him.”

I forced a smile. “We all can be donkeys at times.”

“Some more than others.”

“I’ll get that schedule to you by Friday.” I started out the door, only to pause when he called after me. “Yes?” I looked back at my boss.

“Don’t let what my son said get to you. In my opinion, hunches backed by hard work are worth more than educated research backed by arrogance.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Call me Bart. You’ve earned the right.”

I beamed. “Thank you, Bart.”

As I made my way downstairs, I couldn’t help but grin. I loved my job and didn’t want to leave, and after that uncomfortable scene, I felt more confident in my position. I might not have much formal training, but I knew horses better than the freckles on my nose. And my boss had just admitted that he valued my contributions, even if his jerky son didn’t.

I could live with that.

Chapter 14

Bentley

Mud kept its form as I pulled the miniature loaf pan away. Wiping my hands against dusty jeans, I studied my new bricks laying out on the blue tarp.

“Are you going to build a high-rise with those?”

I jumped and turned to see Liz approaching, leading Han and Kisser behind her. When I kept staring, she spoke again.

“I’ve never seen your magical kingdom.” Her gaze traveled across the four buildings taking shape at the back of the grove. “You have quite the setup.”

My cheeks burned as I rubbed the toe of my boot into mud. The last thing I wanted her to see was me playing in the dirt. “Uh, it’s for Addie. She likes to play out here, but can’t make anything other than messes.”