Wyatt scratched behind his ear, dislodged his Stetson, and almost lost it to the brisk breeze. “Okay. I’ll sit. I haven’t been off my feet all day.” He made himself comfortable on the log. “I’ll just lay it out for you, Erin. You clearly have issues. I understand that your father was a jerk when you were growing up. Probably still is, but you’re a grown woman now, and I can’t cut you slack until you get your head on straight.”

“Cut me slack? I’ve been outworking every man on this ranch!”

“And that right there is part of the problem. You see everything we do as some kind of competition, and you rush through every job as if it’s a race for you to get done first. Just now wasn’t the only time you’ve walked up behind horses without letting them know you’re there. You’re going to get hurt, either because you can’t be bothered to follow the rules or because you’re so bent on outdoing all the men that you do things without any thought for your own well-being. If you don’t get a handle on all that, I’m going to have to let you go. You need to decide right now which it’s going to be.”

Her chest jerked with laughter, but judging by her expression, it wasn’t a jovial sound. “So you’re going to fire me? The best worker you’ve got? Maybe you should ask Uncle Slade how he feels about that.”

Wyatt had hoped the conversation wouldn’t lead him to this point. He had a feeling Erin had already endured enough heartache. “I’ve already spoken with Slade.”

“Oh? And what did he say? Did he tell you to fire me?”

“Yes. If you can’t make some changes. You’re a liability.” Wyatt swallowed. His throat had gone so dry it burned. “As things stand, you’re an accident waiting to happen. He doesn’t want you to get hurt because he loves you very much, but he also worries about his insurance premiums going straight through the roof if you’re badly injured.”

Her face drained of color. “He actually said you have the authority to fire me? Without him even talking to me first?”

Wyatt understood how that must make her feel. Slade was a father figure to her, and once again she had failed to measure up. He wished he knew how to make her see it differently, or that there was a balm to heal wounded hearts. But he had no magic at his disposal. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why he didn’t talk to you himself. It wasn’t my business to ask.”

Her eyes flared with anger. “I see. So what did you tell him that made him decide I should be fired?”

“He didn’t decide. He left the decision up to me.”

Her eyes went bright with tears. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing but the truth. I don’t want to let you go. But I’m going to have to if you can’t start listening to me about safety.”