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Oof. She needed time so she didn’t have to figure this out tonight.
“Hello?” A voice called out from the front of the house, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Anyone home?”
Home. She forgave the choice of words and answered, “Back here.”
An older cowboy donning the uniform of her hometown—Stetson and Wranglers bookending a flannel chambray and buckle that said this man had spent some time being thrown from wild animals—appeared and offered a calloused hand. In his other was a glass baking dish with what Maggie would bet was a King Ranch chicken casserole.
“Mitch Johnson. I’m Deer Creek’s vet.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Carl Newman’s daughter, Maggie. Is that a King Ranch?”
“None other. The missus sends her condolences and says more’s on its way.”
“Thanks so much, Mitch. To your wife as well.”
“Of course and do me a favor. Don’t tell her I’m so late. Had to swing by the BTM and drop off some antibiotics.”
“The BTM?” It wasn’t so much a question as a curse.
“Bennett Marshall’s ranch. Biggest in the valley and your neighbor. You met him yet?”
Her throat constricted, and she swallowed a groan. Could she escape the man for more than two minutes?
“I have. He came by earlier.”
“Yeah, of course he’d beat me here. He’s a pretty darn good neighbor.”
He was certainly something.
“Well, thanks again, Mitch. It’s so nice to meet you. I may be calling on you soon to take a look at my father’s herd.”
“His herd? You know they’re leased out to BTM, right?”
“What? Why?” No, she didn’t know that.
In fact, the things she didn’t know were stacking high enough to fill the valley.
“Don’t know the specifics, but likely a way to stay solvent when Carl couldn’t care for them himself. He has more than a few violations from the cattle board leveraged against the property.”
She’d seen the envelopes but couldn’t bring herself to open them the first day home. Another regret added to the pile.
“Why didn’t his ranch hands help out?”
“Aw, darlin’, he couldn’t keep anyone for the last couple years. Couldn’t afford to. We helped out where we could, but, well, you can see it wasn’t enough.”
The last couple years? Was this the real reason why he hadn’t let Maggie come home? Why every holiday and father-daughter dinner date was in San Antonio?
“I wish I came bearing better news, Maggie. I can look into finding you some temporary help if you’d like.”
Oh, Dad. What did you do?
“Let me think about that and get back to you.”
“You bet. Sorry for your loss, Maggie. Carl was a heckuva man and rancher.”
Maggie gazed out over the overgrown field in front of her, the downed swaths of fence next to the stream. Mitch must’ve seen the unasked question in her eyes.
“Shame what happened to him, but it doesn’t mean he wasn’t good at what he did. He had ideas for this place that woulda made things easier on him.”
