Page 8 of One Heated Summer

“Eight years, give or take a month or so. Finn was always a lying cheater and eventually I refused to forgive him anymore. The last time I found out he’d been fucking around, I immediately hired a lawyer and began separation of our assets. Finn tried to fleece me of a lot more money than he’d contributed but I’d documented everything. Eventually he agreed to a more than reasonable price for him to buy me out of our house and business. When the dust settled he had about the same as he’d started with years before plus a sensible amount in interest. I was damned if he was going to take one cent of my parent’s estate.”

“Sounds like you had your wits about you. It was fortunate you didn’t trust him.”

“I’m not sure it was a question of trust so much as protecting what Mom and Dad had worked so hard to accumulate. I think, deep down, I suspected Finn had come into my life for the money. It just took me a while to admit it and get rid of the leech. It’s strange…despite my not having any feelings left for him, it still hurt when we split.”

“I can understand that. I’ve been burned pretty bad myself on a couple of occasions and although I didn’t allow my heart to get involved because I knew from the start the relationships weren’t meant to be, it still stung.”

Before Harlyn could ask me about my relationships, I stood, gathered the dishes and set them in the sink.

“Coffee?”

“Thanks, and then I’ll have to be going or I’ll never drag my ass out of bed in the morning.”

I flipped the coffee machine on and while I waited for it to brew, I studied Harlyn who seemed to have drifted into thought. The lady was gorgeous and my dick was certainly interested if the way it kept flinching was any indication. I was sorry she was having a tough time of learning the ropes of ranching after everything she’d already been through and vowed to help in whatever way I could.

Chapter Five

Harlyn

Jensen, despite his occasional teasing, became my steadfast guide over the next four weeks. Step by step he taught me how to ride a horse with ease and confidence, how to mend fences with a modicum of skill and precision, and how to move cattle across the sprawling fields. His patience and encouragement were unwavering, and I found myself relying on his steady presence. The physical proximity required to teach me the ropes only fueled my attraction to the handsome man. I felt a spark every time our hands brushed or our eyes met over a shared task.

In the quiet moments between chores, we continued exchanging stories about our lives. Jensen shared a camaraderiewith my men, borne of years of friendship, and over a brew when we squeezed in a break, they all told me stories about their past escapades which had me laughing so hard I could barely breathe.

Jensen spoke of his family's legacy on the ranch and the quiet sadness that lingered from the loss of his sister.

I shared stories and spoke of my passion for biology and ecology and the dreams I’d had of making a significant impact with my work. Dreams that were rapidly fading as I fell in love with my new life.

Jensen and I bonded over our shared concerns for the local environment and made time to continue studying possible solutions in our desire to ensure Grantin thrived.

As time passed I began to see the hidden depths beneath Jensen's charming exterior. For all his playful teasing, he bore a deep sense of duty to his family’s heritage and the land. This side of him resonated with me, adding layers to my growing affection.

Our days on my ranch were not without challenges. The physical labor was intense, and the scrutiny from the townsfolk when they discovered Jensen was spending so much time helping me out, was unrelenting. Yet, the bond between the two of us grew stronger with each passing day. Under the vast Texas sky with the sun beating down on us relentlessly, amidst the sprawling fields and the whispers of the wind, we found solace and strength in each other.

We forged ahead with a shared resolve to face the uncertainties of our ranching futures together, knowing that our friendship was becoming something more profound than either one of us had initially anticipated.

I quickly learned that Grantin was a town where everyone knew everyone else's business, a place where secrets were rare and gossip spread faster than a prairie wildfire. It had only been a few weeks since I’d encountered Jensen, but as he continued spending time helping me, the townsfolk became more and more interested in our lives. Whispers followed us when we walked down Main Street, and curious glances were cast our way when we managed to sneak in the time for a meal together at the local diner.

I felt the weight of the town's scrutiny and knowing I was looking into water management, I suspected that many were wary of my presence. They didn’t take kindly to an outsider with new ideas and unfamiliar ways. Jensen, too, wasn't immune to the town's watchful eyes. His familiarity with me was the subject of much speculation, and when they learned he was actively helping me to document the effect of water, or more accurately…lack of, on their town and the surrounding ranches, not all of it was kind.

Despite the undercurrent of disapproval, rude comments, and occasional threats, we pressed on. Jensen, confident I was capable of managing affairs at Hazy Downs turned his attention back to his own ranching duties, helping when I sent out a distress call.

Outside of chores, I spent as much time as I could on the land, testing new methods for sustainable ranching while respecting the age-old traditions that had sustained the land for generations.

Some of the older ranchers viewed my research with suspicion, seeing it as a threat to their way of life. They also questioned Jensen's judgment in his willingness to help ‘the enemy’ and his loyalty to the community.

I learned to navigate the complex social dynamics of Grantin with Jensen's guidance and developed a deep respect for the community’s resilience and tenacity despite the harshness of their surroundings. I called community meetings to explain what I was doing, surprised when so many attended, and answered their questions honestly. I made a point of mingling with people at social events and over a glass of wine at the local, slowly earning their trust. It was a delicate balance of proving myself and standing firm in my convictions.

One evening, as Jensen drove me back from dinner in town, after a particularly frustrating day where everything that could go wrong, did, I turned to him. "Finding a solution to the water situation that the town accepts is not going to be easy. It feels like I take two baby steps forward and one giant leap backward."

“Hang in there, I’m confident you’re making progress. Even those who are long in the tooth and have ranched here all their lives are beginning to show a cautious willingness to at least listen to what you’re saying. They are pig-headed but also know the town can’t continue to survive if things don’t change."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I just hope I can find the answers they need," I replied.

Jensen's hand brushed against mine, a brief but reassuring gesture. "You'll get there," he said, his confidence bolstering my own.

A few weeks later, the temperature dropped from unbearable heat to frigid cold in a matter of minutes and an ominous cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, heading across the plains and straight for Grantin. The air grew thick, and the wind began to howl, whipping dirt and debris into a frenzied dance. Jensen and I were on the outskirts of town, inspecting a water reservoir, when the storm began forming. Realizing the severity of the situation, Jensen grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his truck. "We need to find shelter…fast," he shouted over the roaring wind.

We drove through the blinding storm, the visibility near zero, until we reached an old barn on the edge of Jensen's property. We stumbled inside, slamming the door shut just as the full force of the dust storm hit, and collapsed onto a pile of straw. The barn creaked and groaned under the assault, and the air inside was thick with tension and dust particles that found their way inside through cracks in walls.

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