Again, Wyatt couldn’t help but smile. “You can’t learn all there is to know in five minutes. But if you’ll wait while I finish cleaning stalls, I’ll give you a tour.”

“I’ve seen it all before.”

“Yes, but as a visitor, not a hired hand.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m game.”

When Wyatt turned to go back into the barn, she followed him. “Do you have another pitchfork?” She leaned around his arm to look up at him so he could read her lips. “I’d like to help.”

Wyatt jabbed a thumb at where another implement hung on the wall, and the next thing he knew, she was in the next stall, throwing manure mixed with straw into a pile in the alley. She had apparently overlooked the fact that he was throwing stuff into the uplifted skidder bucket, which made waste removal a one-throw job. He was pleased by her willingness to work up a sweat, though, especially since he knew her head probably ached, but he also grew concerned, because she was pitching hay faster than he was. To last at ranch work, a person had to pace himself.

He stepped out into the alley. “Whoa! This isn’t a race.”

She gave him a startled look. “Okay. Trust me when I say that I can work as hard and as fast as any man.”

“When you see me busting my ass to be quick, you can. That’ll mean something has to be done fast or all hell will rain on our heads. But otherwise pace yourself. Okay?”

She nodded. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“I’m your foreman. Boss is a title reserved for Slade.”

She shrugged. “Okay. What’ll I call you, then?”

“Wyatt will do. And you aren’t supposed to pitch that shit into a pile. It goes in the skidder bucket, the way I’m doing it. Now you’ll have to fork it twice. Get it in the bucket. When it’s full, we’ll run it out to the compost pile, dump it, and then come back for more.”

* * *

Erin couldn’t help but feel excited as she climbed into one of the side-by-sides to take a tour of the ranch with Wyatt. She was actually going to work here, and she couldn’t wait to start. Domino almost jumped up to go with them, but he saw Pistol and Four Toes off in the trees and ran to play with them instead.

As they set off, Wyatt hit a rut, and she grabbed a bar of the roll cage. “You okay?” he asked. “Nobody here has been killed in one of these yet.”

“I’ve driven in high-speed chases when I was in training at the academy. Trust me, vehicles don’t scare me.”

Ten seconds later, she almost wet her pants when the side-by-side hit mud and nearly flipped end over end. Erin was thrown forward. Wyatt let loose with a string of curse words, many of them mispronounced, which was a first.

“Water main leak!” he said. “I told the new hired hands to watch for soggy ground. These pastures are always well drained unless there’s a line leaking. It happens all the time.” He jumped out of the vehicle and immediately sank into muck almost to mid-shin. He didn’t seem to mind mud oozing over into his boots. He grabbed a shovel from the back cargo area. “Come on. If you’re going to be a ranch hand, you may as well get friendly with mud.”