Page 62 of Meant for Her

“Did you work in a vineyard?” her mom asked. “Is that how you know so much about wine?”

“Partially. I was hired to clean out the barrels, but I picked up a lot of information—much of it useless. For example, did you know that Montana is home to eight wineries?”

This time, her mother acted surprised. “No, I did not. I thought it was too cold to grow grapes.”

“You’re right. Most of their wine comes from fruits other than grapes. If they do use grapes, they import them from California, Oregon, and Washington.”

“I had no idea.”

Her father cleared his throat. “Shall we eat? Luke can you pass the beef?”

“Yes, sir.”

Malia wished she could read her father’s mind. Ten bucks said all he knew about wine was where to buy it. Being with someone more knowledgeable than him apparently made him a bit uncomfortable. Needless to say, the next few minutes were rather tense.

Her mom must have felt sorry for all three of them since she finally turned to the men. “Do you have any leads regarding the other six cows you lost?”

“We didn’t lose them,” Luke said. “They were stolen, but to answer your question, no.”

Ouch. There was the Luke Lattimore that she knew. “The sheriff is running down leads. I thought I might ask Mason to see what he can learn about a man by the name of Phil Minter. He was the one who sold Ryan and Luke’s six cows to Chip Lawson.”

“I don’t trust Chip very much. Never have,” her dad said.

That was interesting. “I know he’s human, but are you thinking he could be involved in the theft?” she asked.

“I don’t think he’s smart enough. If he was into stealing, he wouldn’t spend so much time trying to suck up to ranchers at the auctions.”

That was good information.

“Will told Malia that he’d heard Don and Les Bradley might be involved,” her mother said.

“I think Mason is checking them out too. I need to give him a call tomorrow,” Malia said.

“Young lady, please don’t. Your mother and I worry enough about our family. We don’t need you running around asking questions.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’m only funneling information to Mason and maybe to the twins. That’s all. I have no intention of asking around about who might be a cattle rustler.”

“Good,” he said.

Of all her siblings, Malia was the most conservative. As a nurse, she had to be a rule-follower.

“What are you two going to do if you don’t get those other six cows back?” her father asked. “Do you have enough money to pay for feed for the winter and keep them healthy?”

She wanted to kick her dad under the table, but he was too far away.

“We’re working on that, sir,” Ryan said. “I’ve been running the numbers, trying to figure out ways to cut costs.”

“You write your figures on the back of a napkin?”

“Dad, that’s enough. They aren’t ignorant. In case you couldn’t tell, Luke and Ryan work very hard to keep their ranch growing. They inherited a lot of debt and a dilapidated ranch. Blame their father on not managing his money—not the men.”

“Sorry.”

He actually sounded contrite. For the rest of the meal, both Ryan and Luke asked her father good questions about best practices for running a ranch, but unless they had at least five thousand acres, she doubted he’d consider them worthy of her.

Mercifully, dinner ended. Her mother hadn’t said much, but Malia could tell she was mostly watching to see if her only daughter was happy.

Her mom picked up her plate and stood. Malia did the same. A few seconds later, both of the men grabbed a few of the dishes off the table.