The Rancher Meets His Match (The Millers of Morgan Valley #4) - Kate Pearce Page 0,3
me money.”
“I learned a trade. That’s different.” Kaiden turned to Adam. “This food is awesome, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Adam nodded. “There’s plenty more, so keep going.”
By the time they got to dessert, even Kaiden was full, and decided to stick with coffee. While Jeff was busy trying to argue with Evan about something to do with the calves, Kaiden turned to Adam.
“Dr. Tio asked me to go out to the Garcia Ranch to see Juan tomorrow.”
“Yeah? What for?” Adam frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving to manage the ranch for him—although it could do with all the help it can get right now.”
“The house needs adapting so that Juan can get around in his wheelchair.”
“That sucks.” Adam sipped his own coffee. “He’s got multiple sclerosis, right?”
“Yeah. I said I’d check out what needs to be done—bathrooms, ramps, doorways, that kind of thing.”
“Who’s paying for that? I don’t think Juan has taken any cattle to market the last two years, and the ranch is a mess.”
“Dr. Tio said the family would take care of it.” Kaiden shrugged. “Maybe Mr. Garcia got some kind of disability grant, or something. He’s retired military.”
“Maybe one of his kids is coughing up the cash. Miguel’s in the military, right?”
“As far as I know.” Kaiden kept his tone neutral.
“What about Julia?”
“I have no idea.” Kaiden finished his coffee. “I guess I’ll find out the answers tomorrow.”
* * *
Julia Garcia turned a slow circle around her father’s kitchen. Nothing had changed since she’d left ten years ago to attend college and never really come back. The coffeepot on the ancient stove was the same, as was the plastic covering on the table, and the loudly humming refrigerator. It was like time had stood still.
She pressed her hand over her heart and forced herself to take a deep breath as memories overwhelmed her. Miguel grinning and pulling her hair, her mom cooking at the stove, and her dad coming in the back door smelling like leather and cow shit.
“You okay in there?”
Her father’s voice echoed down the hallway. She’d left him settled in his recliner in front of the TV and offered to make some coffee.
“Yup! Do you have a coffee maker, Dad?” she called out.
“I thought that was you.”
She smiled despite herself. “I mean like an electric one or a pod dispenser.”
“Nope. Cowboy coffee made on the stove or over the fire is good enough for me.”
Julia mentally added a coffee maker to her ever-increasing list of things she needed to survive in the boonies. “Right.”
She approached the coffeepot like it was about to burst into flames and cast her mind back to how to make it. “Coffee in the bottom, add water, bring to the boil, easy,” she murmured to herself as she opened the cupboard, found the scratched tin marked COFFEE, and added what she hoped was the appropriate amount before setting it on the stove.
She’d arrived last night when it was dark, greeted her father, fallen into her old bed, and slept for eight hours, which was unheard of. She’d forgotten how powerful the silence around the ranch could be. It felt like she was constantly holding her breath. She checked the refrigerator for cream and set out a couple of mugs. But wasn’t that why she’d left in the first place? That silence? That sense that nothing would ever change if she didn’t make it happen?
She went back to speak to her father. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“There’s oatmeal. I like that.” He smiled up at her.
“Do you have a microwave to make it?” Before he even answered her, Julia held up her hand. “Scratch that. Of course you don’t. I’ll make you some.”
“I don’t want to put you to too much trouble, my love.” Juan frowned. “I’m quite capable of feeding myself.”
“I know that, but how about you let me pamper you my first morning back?” Julia kissed his cheek. “Just stay there, Dad, and enjoy your show. I’ll be back.”
The kitchen window still had the drapes she’d made with her mom about fifteen years ago. The lemon pattern looked like it hadn’t been washed for years and was stiff with dirt and grease. For a horrible second, Julia wanted to rip the curtains down and scream at the unfairness of it all. But she was a different person now, a more controlled one, and she certainly wasn’t going to let her current sense of helplessness beat her.
Even as she talked herself strong again, her gaze was caught by the endless