Free Winter at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth Page A

Faithful. Back downstairs, she found her whole family—including Skype Krista—gathered around the dog bed. Her gramps stood in the back wearing his
this is ridiculous
face, but the others were bumping shoulders to sneak a pat of the golden fur.
    And the dog, thank goodness, was soaking it up.
Smart guy
.
    “Everybody ready?” Jenny asked, lifting Old Faithful and tweaking things for an inside shot.
    Gran beckoned. “You should be in here, too.”
    “My tripod is packed and the timer died on Machu Picchu.” She lifted the camera and framed her family. “Squish in closer around the dog.”
    “His name is Rex,” Krista reminded her
    “Right. Cuddle up, everyone, and say ‘Sexy Rexy’!”
    •   •   •
     
    By quitting time on Friday, Jenny felt like she was starting to get the hang of the make-nice-to-the-guests thing. She had turned Missy around by hitting the “he’ll love the surprise and you can throw a party to announce the trip” angle exactly right, and had dealt with a minicrisis with one of the suppliers. She had even upsold a few cabins and two more of Gran’s special-occasion packages to new guests, and was surprised by the sense of accomplishment.
    Then again, it had helped to have the advertising project to fall back on when the ranch stuff made her want to poke her eyes out with a Bic.
    She had gone through the photos she’d taken around Mustang Ridge over the past few years and pulled together some possibilities, and sketched out ideas for the short interview clips. She was meeting with Shelby next Thursday, and wanted to have at least two videos to show her. Which meant it was time to get down and dirty with Old Faithful and Doris, her trusty digital vidcam.
    But not tonight. Tonight, she had plans.
    “Happy date night to me,” she said, pushing away from the desk and opening her arms wide in a back-cracking stretch.
    Rex gave a hopeful chuff from the corner, where he was sacked out in a nest of old blankets. The dog had settled into the family like he’d been raised beside the woodstove, even staying off the doily-studded frou-frou pillows that Jenny’s mom insisted looked just darling in the rustic living area. The dog had proven to be a cheerful, easily distracted fellow with good manners, at least so far. He was still moving slow, favoring his injured ribs and gimping on his infected paw, so Jenny had been keeping him close by her side most of the time, either in the office or her bedroom.
    She gave him a sympathetic ear rub. “Sorry, buddy. You’re not invited. Come on, let’s see if you can hang with Gran in the kitchen.”
    That got her an enthusiastic tail wag.
Cookies?
    But the kitchen was deserted, with even the ovens powered down, suggesting she wasn’t the only one with Friday night plans.
    “Gran?” Jenny called, walking back into the main room with Rex padding unevenly behind her. “Dad?” When there was no answer, she tagged on, “Mom?”
    There was no answer from that quadrant, either, and guilt stung a little that she didn’t have a clue what her mother was up to, or if she was even around. Jenny hadn’t been avoiding her, exactly, but they had both been busy with their own stuff.
    “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to put you in my room. I’ll leave the TV on for you, okay? What do you say,
Animal Planet
or
Jerry Springer
reruns?”
    She went for
Animal Planet
, and patted the yellow patchwork bedspread she had picked out of a catalog for her sixteenth birthday. “Here. You can have the bed.”
    After a brief hesitation, he hopped up, did his customary two and a half circles, and lay down with a sigh that was clearly designed to make her feel guilty for leaving him behind.
    “Suck it up,” she advised, but gave his ruff a scratch and added, “I won’t be too late.”
    At least she didn’t think she would be. Nick had called earlier to confirm and suggest dinner at the Steak Lodge, earning points for avoiding Three Ridge’s more traditional