Contents ( 26)
- PRAISE FOR CATHERINE ANDERSON’S NOVELS
- TITLES BY CATHERINE ANDERSON
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- What’s next on your reading list?
Erin let him continue until she couldn’t bear to see any more. “What is your point?”
Jonas turned his chair to face her again. “That maybe you’re seeing a double standard where there isn’t one. I grew up with horses. They have monocular vision, which means they do have blind spots. When you stand directly in front of an equine, it can’t see you. Well, maybe your shoulders and arms, which might be outside the blind spot, but those parts of you would still be blurry.”
“They really can’t see me if I’m right in front of their nose?”
“Nope.” He smiled slightly. “Have you ever noticed how a horse lifts its head when you stand in front of it? Happens a lot when a horse is in an enclosure. It’ll lift its head to get farther away so it can see you better. You’ll often see the whites of its eyes. A lot of people think that indicates the horse is mean, but they’re wrong. There’s another blind spot directly behind a horse, and it can’t see you back there. Have you ever been unaware that anyone else was in a room and jumped a foot when they suddenly spoke to you?”
“Well, of course. Hasn’t everyone?”
Jonas tapped the pen again. “Horses get startled, too. Only instead of jumping, they’re more likely to kick. It’s a knee-jerk response. That’s why Wyatt yammers at you about safely approaching a horse from behind. If you want to wind up looking like those people”—he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the monitor—“just keep ignoring his warnings, and you may get your wish.”
Erin almost threw up her hands. “You don’t believe me about the double standard.”
“I believe you.” He turned back to his keyboard and executed another search. “Huh. And it appears that you’re right. There is no legal maximum weight that people should lift at work. There’s no reason for them to be jumping all over you about dreamed-up weight limits.”
“You see?” Erin said. “What’s the address of that site? I’ll enter it in my phone and show it to Uncle Slade. It proves that Wyatt is being unreasonable.”
“Oh, wait. There are recommended weight limitations for both men and women at certain levels of their bodies. And there are also guidelines that say women shouldn’t be expected to lift as much weight as men. And get this. It says the suggested guidelines for both sexes change when the work environment requires any lifting that involves twisting or bending, if the manual handling is being carried out in a confined space, or if the lifting activity is being repeated. As I recall, all three of those exceptions occur on a ranch.”
Erin stood up. “It appears that my hour will be up in ten minutes. I don’t mind paying you for ten measly minutes you didn’t actually work.”
Jonas chuckled. “You know why I like working with you so much? You never hesitate to let me know when I tick you off.”