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The only problem was that it proved to be more work than I was prepared for. The posts seemed to weigh a ton and the roll of wire was unruly. Now I understood why ranchers kept a set of cowboys on the payroll. This would be much easier if I had an extra pair of hands.
For a moment, I considered calling Beau for help. But it felt…wrong somehow. I really needed to break it off with him. My feelings for Landon were only continuing to grow, and it wasn’t fair to Beau that I kept stringing him along, no matter how unintentional it might be on my part. With everything that had been going on lately, it just kept slipping further down my to-do list. I needed to remedy that though, sooner rather than later.
My thoughts drifted back to yesterday’s breakfast with Landon. When he answered the door, I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. His jeans had been hanging so low that I could clearly see the enticing V-shape of muscle at his hips. And since his pants had been left unbuttoned, it was impossible to miss the lack of boxers or briefs.
I blew out a breath that turned shaky at the end, chastising myself for thinking about commando cowboys when I was supposed to be working. I couldn’t tell if the hot sun wasmaking me dizzy or if my preoccupation with Landon’s state of undress was the cause of my lightheadedness.
The jingle of my phone’s muffled ringtone emanated from my pocket. I tugged off my gloves and pulled my phone out. I barely had any reception all the way out here in the pasture—only one measly little bar that was holding on for dear life.
When I saw the name on the screen, my heartbeat stuttered. It was time to face the music.
“Hey, Grandma.”
“Hi, bumblebee,” she replied.
I closed my eyes at the warmth of her nickname for me. Ever since I was a kid, Grandma Cora had called me that because I was always bringing her little bouquets of wildflowers I discovered while I roamed the homestead. She said they were like jewels and it took a special someone to recognize the riches that the land offered so freely.
“I heard about the fire,” my grandmother continued. Her voice was staticky over the phone and the connection wobbled, threatening to short out. “Do you have time for an old lady to drop by and say hello? I’d be happy to offer a hug.”
I hesitated, rubbing my thumbnail into the wood grain of a nearby fence post. I would never dream of saying no to a visit from Grandma Cora. But the timing wasn’t great. I hated the thought of her seeing the wreckage of the barn only a week after leaving the homestead in my care.
“Grandma, it’s your place. You don’t need to ask permission to come over.”
“You’re the boss now, remember? Ownership on the deed is in your name, not mine.”
I considered for a moment. Maybe hanging out with my grandmother for a few hours would do me some good, take my mind off things. She might have some ideas for financing the barn rebuild, too. I didn’t want her to think I was drowningunder the responsibilities she’d given me, but I could use all the help I could get.
“I can pick you up in about twenty minutes,” I offered.
“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it. I already have a ride. He’s very handsome. Since I don’t get out much these days, I’ll be taking the opportunity to enjoy myself in the company of a gentleman.”
I laughed. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“Well, I never said I was. He’s just a fun little fling for the afternoon. I’ll see you at one o’clock. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
After hanging up, I smiled to myself, feeling lighter already.
***
I had to leave the fence only part-way finished in order to get cleaned up for Grandma Cora’s visit. My hair was a mess, my shirt was soaked with sweat, and my jeans were filthy after tromping around the homestead for half the day.
When Grandma arrived, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the massive black truck that rolled up my driveway. A white logo on the side depicted a large house with a sweeping landscape around it and mountains rising in the background. In curving letters underneath, it read:High Plains Ranch.
The driver opened his door and stepped out, revealing an older man, about in his 50s, with a square jawline, a hard stare, and an unsmiling face. There was no mistaking who Grady McCall was—one of the wealthiest ranchers in Colorado, let alone humble little Ash Ridge. What on earth was my grandmother doing with him?
Circling around to the passenger side, Grady took Grandma Cora’s hand and helped her down from the truck. She barely came up to his elbow but she gave his chest a friendly patwith a smile as if he was a harmless puppy. This was not what I pictured when my grandmother mentioned herfun little fling for the afternoon.
“Bumblebee!” she called, waving me over. “I want you to meet someone.”
Swallowing hard to steady myself, I joined them. Grady watched me approach with the iciest blue eyes I’d ever seen.
“Grady, this is my granddaughter, Callie,” Grandma said. “So, you better be nice to her. She’s one of us locals now—a permanent resident of Ash Ridge.”
He touched the brim of his hat with a nod, but he still didn’t smile.
“Your grandmother has been singing your praises for weeks,” he said with a whisky-rough voice.
