Chapter Seven
Dark clouds moved along the ridge to the north as Mac headed across the pasture to the fence line.
She stopped the side-by-side at the wooden bridge leading over the creek, the last place she’d have a signal for a while, checked her phone, then let out a frustrated breath.
Two more thanks for applying but … emails had landed in her box.
She hadn’t heard from several of the places she’d applied to, but non-replies were a fact of life for job hunters.
Fact of life or not, it felt rude … and she was beginning to feel the familiar edge of desperation due to her future being so murky.
She’d just passed her one-week work anniversary on the Tree Fork Ranch, and she didn’t know if she was running out of time.
Trev had promised her a total of three weeks, her stint ending when he left for his real job and Jordan showed up to take over.
Was it possible that he’d keep her on to work with Jordan?
She’d done a decent job for him and had learned quite a few cow lessons along the way.
While tagging and inoculating the new calves, she had indeed gotten a foot in the face, just as Trev had promised, and been knocked down more times than she could count.
She’d also outrun a cow that thought she was getting too close to her calf, and she’d learned how to fend a protective mother off while Trev hauled her weak baby to the barn in his arms. She’d bottle-fed and helped with another stomach tubing and basically immersed herself in cow culture.
She was getting the hang of cattle ranching …
and she was getting used to living on the Tree Fork Ranch.
It wasn’t as cushy or decked out as the Sweet Grass, but it was comfortable in a way that the guest ranch hadn’t been.
It almost felt like a home, and that, she decided was dangerous thinking—as was thinking too deeply about a certain cowboy who kept things interesting.
Enough time had passed since the kiss they’d shared on her first night in the foreman’s house to believe that mutual curiosity had been satisfied, warning signals had been heeded, and all was well.
Except she didn’t believe that.
She believed that the kiss had been a stark warning of how easy it would be to tear each other’s clothes off, so they’d retreated to neutral corners to avoid messing up a mutually beneficial situation.
For now. The tension was growing between them, just as it had been before they’d kissed.
Mac could live with tension, she decided.
What she couldn’t live with was falling for this cowboy.
Relationships had never been easy for her.
Too much overthinking and wondering when the rug was going to be pulled out from under her.
It was cowardly, but easier, to simply not get too involved.
Trev, without doing a thing other than being himself, was threatening her no-heavy-involvement approach to life and sex. One-night stand? Fine. Two-night stand? No problem.
A promise?
A vow?
So scary.
Mac put her phone away and drove over the bridge to the fence line toward the area where she’d left off tightening wires and reinforcing fenceposts the previous day.
The pasture seemed curiously empty. Two days ago, inquisitive steers, thinking that perhaps she had a bale of hay hidden in her small vehicle, had approached and watched as she worked.
Today she had the grassy expanse all to herself.
They had to be on the other side of the hill.
But when she topped the hill and could see the entire pasture, it was indeed void of cattle.
Was there a spot where the steers could have gathered out of sight? Because the last thing she wanted was to raise a false alarm.
The alarm, it turned out, was real. In the gulley at the bottom of the hill, Mac found the hole in the fence, a place where deer or elk had passed through, and one of them had hooked the fence, dragging it with them.
Telltale bits of black hair clung to the wires telling Mac that the missing herd had gone walkabout.
She’d have to drive back to a gate to get to the other side of the fence or cut the remaining wire.
Or she could go home and report to Trev and find out what he wanted to do.
Animals in trespass could turn into a serious situation, but she didn’t know whose land the steers were on. A private owner or the feds?
She checked her phone, just in case, but of course there was no signal. She’d have to drive back to the bridge—
The low rumble of thunder brought her head up and then the clouds that had been threatening weather all morning opened, and rain began to fall, beating on the fiberglass top of the utility vehicle.
That was it. She was heading back to the ranch for advice and reinforcements.
Also, for a dry coat. The rain blew over the half doors of the UTV soaking the seat, her jeans and one arm of her coat. Damn. If it came down any harder, she’d have to stop. The storm relented before she got back to the ranch, the wind dying and the driving rain becoming more of a spring shower.
She was still damned cold, and her hair was soaked.
Wade was limping across the driveway, shoulders hunched against the rain when Maclyn pulled through the gate. She drove to the barn to park out of the weather, Trev rolling the door open when she got there, saving her from getting out. Not that she could be much wetter.
“You’re missing some cattle,” she said as soon as she turned off the engine.
“Where?”
She explained about the fence and the tufts of Angus hair caught in the wires, and Trev laced his fingers behind his neck as he considered. “Sounds about right. Nasty weather, adventuresome cattle.”
“If you wait for me to get into something more waterproof, we can look for them.”
“There are enough fences and neighbors that they won’t get far. I just don’t want them breaching someone else’s fences and getting in with their cattle.” He frowned at the damp ringlets framing her face. “Warm up. Meet me back here in half an hour and we’ll make a plan.”
*
Rain hit Trev in the face as he stepped out of the barn.
Mac said a quick, “See you later,” before putting her head down and sprinting to the foreman’s house.
Trev shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and headed for the maternity corral for a quick check, hunching his back against the wind.
Everyone was on their feet and eating, so he retreated to the barn to continue working on the tractor, pulling off his hat and shaking the water from it.
He hung the battered felt on a nail protruding from a rough-cut column and then adjusted the trouble light so that he could see into the tractor’s engine.
In a matter of weeks, his workspace would be warm and dry, and it wouldn’t smell of cows, dust, and forage.
His clothing wouldn’t be splattered with betadine stains, and he wouldn’t have to scrape his boots or spray his jeans with a hose to keep from clogging the washing machine with mud after yet another calving adventure.
He’d be a button-down-shirt-wearing professional with an upward trajectory.
Before the Copper Mountain Rodeo last fall, he’d divided his time between saving the company from hackers during the week and roping with Dylan on the weekends.
Long weekday hours had been translated into PTO that he could use when he traveled to more distant rodeos.
But now he had no outlet, nothing to look forward to. Just … work.
The barn door slid open, and Trev glanced at the cobwebbed clock on the wall over the window. Barely twenty minutes had passed. Maclyn’s hair was dry, and she wore a sturdy oiled canvas coat.
“You’re early.”
“Not much to do in the house. I’ve applied for every job possible, so all I can do is play solitaire and wait. Therefore”—she spread her arms—“I’m available for duty.”
“No luck?”
“I got a nibble from the Graff Hotel, but I don’t want to take a job just to quit if something horse-related comes up.”
“Where else have you applied?”
She rattled off names of ranches—most of them of the dude variety, scattered across the state—a few veterinarians, and a training facility up north.
“I applied for hourly jobs in Marietta to tide me over, but again, I don’t want to leave anyone high and dry.
” She leaned against the column he’d hung his hat from.
“I’ll expand the search to Idaho and Wyoming, but I wanted to stay in an area I know. ”
“You know that you can stay on here.”
“How would I know that?” Her tone was half-teasing, but her expression was intent.
“Because I’m telling you.”
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “For how long?”
“Until you need to go. Jordan’s on board.”
“You’re saying I’ve passed the probationary period?”
“For not knowing shit about cows when you got here, you’re doing okay.”
“Okay? Have you seen how taut those fence wires are?”
“Would that be the fence that the steers walked through?”
“I can’t be responsible for wildlife damage,” she said with a sniff.
He smiled as he grabbed the grease rag and wiped his hands. Mac continued holding up the column, hands behind her back, watching him in a way that put him on edge. He liked the feeling.
“Anyway, you can stay for as long as you need a job. Keep applying elsewhere, but don’t worry about getting pushed out into the cold. We just ask for some notice.”
“That’s generous, Trev.”
“You earn your pay. I’ve seen those taut fence wires.”
“Have you? I didn’t realize you checked my work.”
“You did well.” He moved to stand in front of her and then set his hands lightly on her shoulders to make his point, his knuckles brushing the rough wood of the column. “You were a good hire.”
“Told you I was a quick study.” She smiled a little, then looked over his shoulder at the window. “The rain is letting up.”
And the subject is changed.
“You feel like saddling a wet horse?”
“You know I do.”