Читать книгу Montana Hearts - Charlotte Carter - Страница 11

The sound of the emergency gong rang out over the prairie.

Kurt froze in the saddle. Intended to warn of a grass fire, no one had used that gong in years. Not since his mother had knocked over a kerosene lamp and…

Digging in his heels, he spurred Pepper toward the ranch house. Had Sarah tried to barbecue something on the back porch again? Maybe Beth had been messing around with candles in her room and caught the curtains on fire.

Or maybe a tourist had tossed a cigarette butt out a car window into the drought-dry grass and started what could end in an inferno.

Grimly, he urged his horse to a gallop.

Fire. Always a dangerous threat but more so when you lived far from town with only a few nearby ranchers to help put out the flames.

As his horse raced across the rolling landscape, Kurt searched the horizon for any sign of smoke. Nothing. Not a single puff of smoke in sight.

Nerves bunched his shoulders. He gripped the reins so hard they nearly cut through his riding gloves into his palms. The horse’s ears were turned to listen for his commands, and he knew the animal’s eyes were wide with a fright that reflected his own fears.

If there was no smoke and no fire, what other emergency could there be? Any number of dangers existed on a ranch, from mountain lions and wolf attacks to someone falling out of the hay loft.

The ranch house came into sight. No smoke. No fire.

Two pickup trucks were roaring down the road toward the Rocking R. They’d heard the gong, too. And responded.

The volunteer fire truck from town wouldn’t be far behind them.

In ranch country, neighbors helped neighbors.

Kurt unlatched the final gate separating the grazing land from the ranch house and barns, and sped the remaining yards to the back of the house. He reined the lathered horse to a halt in front of Beth and Sarah.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He was as winded as his horse, his lungs pumping hard.

Beth gave her ponytail an insolent flick with her hand. “Our new housekeeper,” she said in a snooty voice, “wouldn’t let me go into town unless you said so.”

Gaping at his daughter, Kurt shook his head. “You’re telling me you rang the emergency gong for that?”

“I did it,” Sarah said. “Beth told me there was no other way to reach you. I was under the impression you had grounded her.”

Anger built in Kurt’s chest. He forced himself to stay in control as the two pickup trucks roared up to the barn and four hands from neighboring ranches piled out of the vehicles.

“Both of you, stay right where you are,” he said.

“Especially you, Beth.”

He reined his horse toward the arriving men. Still agitated, the gelding danced around, and Kurt had to reassert control over the animal.

“Sorry, fellows. A false alarm. But thanks for coming.”

Larry Hicks from the Skyline Ranch thumbed his hat farther back on his head. “You sure everything is okay?”

No, everything was not okay. “A little misunderstanding. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No problem. Boys were lookin’ for a little excitement anyway. They got the summer doldrums.” Larry grinned at his buddies.

“Could you call the dispatcher in town, ask ’em to call off the volunteer fire truck?” Kurt asked.

“Will do.” Larry resettled his hat and all the men climbed back into their trucks.

Kurt dismounted and walked his horse to the back of the house where Beth and Sarah were waiting for him.

Before Kurt had a chance to say a single word, Beth laid into him.

“Daddy, this is so wrong. I knew you didn’t really mean I was grounded. That was only for Nana’s benefit so she’d get off my back. And Beth wouldn’t believe me, so I—”

“You’re not only grounded, Beth, you’re going to do chores all day. Starting with cooling off Pepper.” He patted the horse’s sweaty neck. “And giving him a good rubdown. Cleaning out the stalls comes next.”

“Dad…dy!” she wailed. “You can’t mean—”

“I do. Every word.” He handed her Pepper’s reins.

“Now get busy, young lady. When the stalls are clean, come tell me, and I’ll think of something else for you to do. We’ve let a lot of things go around the place this past year.” Including him letting his daughter slide by when he should have been paying more attention to Beth and less to his own feelings of guilt and grief. That was going to change.

The daggers Beth glared at him had sharp points, and they hurt at some deep level he hadn’t felt in a long time.

She yanked on the reins and walked Pepper to the barn, her ponytail swinging like the swishing tail of a raging bull.

“I love you, angel,” he said under his breath, and exhaled a weary sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I didn’t know that the gong would bring the entire county out here to see what was wrong.”

“Yep. That’s what it was meant to do.” He plucked his cell phone from the holster on his belt. “Of course, nowadays using one of these is a lot more efficient.”

Her eyes widened and pink colored her cheeks. “I asked about you having a cell. She said where you were was a dead zone.”

Taking off his hat, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on the top porch step. Rudy joined him, sitting on his haunches, his ears alert, his eyes curious.

“There’re a couple of dead zones,” Kurt said. “But three years ago the cell company put up three towers, one on my property and the other two nearby. My cell works most everywhere on the ranch. I should’ve thought to give you the number.”

“That’s a good idea.” She eased herself down to a step one below his. “I don’t think Beth meant any harm. I think she’s troubled.”

Gazing off into the distance, he idly petted the dog. “Yeah, I get that. And I haven’t been much of a father lately.”

“It’s never too late. I suspect that’s why she’s acting out. She wants you to pay attention to her even if it means she’s getting yelled at.”

“I figured that out. But what do I do? I’m trying to run this place without a hired hand. The price of beef keeps dipping and the bills keep getting bigger. I don’t have time for fun and games.”

Sarah reached down and plucked a weed from the ground by its roots. “I’ve never had children, so I’m certainly not an expert, but I’d say if you don’t spend time with her now you’ll regret it later.”

He grunted a noncommital sound.

Rudy deserted Kurt to sit beside Sarah. She patted his head and scratched behind his ears. “Nice dog.”

“Rudy used to help me round up the cattle. He herded the kids, too, when they were little and tried to wander off.” He smiled at the memory. “Now he’s too old and he’s got arthritis.”

“Poor guy.” Continuing to pet the dog, she said, “I was never allowed to have a dog. My parents were afraid I would catch something from an animal.”

Kurt detected a note of both regret and nostalgia in her voice.

“Well, I’ve got laundry to do and some dusting. I’d better get busy.”

She stood and brushed the dirt from the back of her slacks. Not jeans, like the local women wore. But fancy, city-girl slacks. Kurt would guess they weren’t bought out of a catalog either, which is what Zoe had had to do except on their rare trips to Great Falls or Helena where she could shop.

No wonder she’d hated living out here.

Brooding, Kurt sat on the porch step for a long time. Finally, when no great revelations came to him, he strolled into the barn. Beth was in the middle of mucking out one of the stalls.

“What do you want now?” she asked. “I’m gettin’ it done, just like you said.”

He walked past her and picked up a second shovel. “I was thinking if we worked together we’d get this dirty job done a lot faster. And maybe we could talk.”

Sarah moved a load of wash into the dryer, shut the lid and pushed the start button.

Realizing she shouldn’t put off calling Tricia Malone any longer, she stepped into her bedroom and closed the door for privacy. The young woman was taking care of her accounting service while Sarah was away. Although she trusted Tricia’s accounting skills implicitly, she wanted to make sure her clients continued to be happy with the service they received.

She picked up her cell phone. For a moment she marveled how cleverly a twelve-year-old girl had conned her into believing there was no cell service out on the range. Beth certainly had a chip on her shoulder. But what preteen wouldn’t be upset, the loss of her mother coinciding with the onset of her own puberty. Poor kid!