His chiseled features, burnished from daily exposure to the elements, suddenly went ruddy red with what appeared to be outrage. “Are you implying that I’m gay?”

The question set her back. Wasn’t his sexual orientation the crux of their entire problem? “Wyatt, I’m not passing judgment. I only came down here to let you know I finally get it and won’t be troubling you any further.”

His face turned even redder, and his jaw muscle began to tic. “Your conceit has no equal. Really? If I’m not interested in what you have to offer, I must be gay? Well, I’ve got a news flash for you, sweetheart. I’m as straight as they come. I just don’t find anything about you to be the least bit attractive. I’m drawn to women who aren’t fixated on outdoing me physically at every turn. You’re the kind of gal who not only wants to wear the pants, but you honestly believe you can fill them out better than a man can.”

Erin felt as if he’d slugged her in the stomach. Never in her life had she felt so humiliated. She hadn’t meant for this conversation to get ugly. Now he was saying things that cut her to the quick. And the worst part was that every word was the truth—or at least used to be. As Julie had pointed out during their girls night, Erin had come a long way. She couldn’t say that it had been easy or that she didn’t still have more changes to make, but it hurt to have all her faults thrown in her face.

Erin pushed up from the log. “I’m sorry if I’ve misread the situation,” she pushed out. “Whether you’re straight, gay, or playing for both teams, I wish you every happiness. In the future when I visit the ranch, you don’t need to avoid me. I’ll never try to hit on you again.”

She spun on her heel and struck off the way she’d come, her vision so blurred by unshed tears that the forest floor resembled a Jackson Pollock abstract expressionist painting. She tripped on an exposed tree root and nearly fell. By the time she reached the paddock fence, cold droplets had slid off her chin, trickled down her chest, and collected in her cleavage. The main house swam into her line of sight, and she jerked to a halt. She couldn’t go inside. She’d told Vickie she was going down to talk with Wyatt. It wouldn’t be difficult for Vickie to figure out that the foreman had said something to upset her. Even though Erin felt Wyatt had been out of line to get ugly and hurtful, she didn’t want Uncle Slade to be pissed off at him. She’d just call Vickie on the way home and say something had come up at work to cut her visit short. A white lie. Erin didn’t like lying, but sometimes, to protect others, she saw no way around it. Wyatt’s livelihood could be at stake.