With one final twist, I locked the barbed wire in place, set my tools back in their box, then added my worn leather gloves to the pile. I peeled off my overshirt and used it to wipe away the sweat that was running down my neck like a river. Once finished, I balled it up and threw it onto the passenger floor with my rubbish from lunch. It was going to need a wash when I got back.
After starting the engine, I headed for home. Following the fence line, I kept glancing at the posts along the way. Making note of how many looked like they needed replacing. So far, I had counted ten of them.
Running through the numbers, I calculated that was at least three days of work for me. And that was me moving at top speed. There was only one way I was going to get this done in a more reasonable time frame—without killing myself in the process—and that was to get one of my two brothers to help out.
I have two brothers: Wyatt, who is older by a few years and always busy with work. He’s the football coach at the local high school, and since it was already training season he was staying back in the afternoons for practice. I knew if I asked, he would spend all weekend out in the fields with me, but that was unfair to him and his daughter. Weekends were the only time they got to have an entire day together, and I wasn’t about to take that away from them.
But my younger brother Colton, well, that was an entirely different story. He didn’t have an excuse that would hold up if I pushed hard enough. Because what he did for work wasn’t an actual nine to five commitment. He could work around the other jobs that needed to be done. Right now, the fences needed to be either repaired or replaced.
See, Colton was our resident “Horse Whisperer.” He just had a way with them. He could take a completely wild horse and have them eating out of the palm of his hand within a couple of weeks. It truly was an incredible thing to watch.
Since his skill was well known, he often got poached by other ranch owners to assist them when they required. More often than not, they called upon him to help with breeding. Our horses were sought after since Colton had a hand in every single one of their bloodlines, upbringings, and training. You wanted to buy a pony for your little girl? You came to Larsen Ranch and bought one from the Larsens, since you knew Colton had trained that horse to obey commands and your child would be as safe as possible with it.
He also looked after our grazing cattle. The Santa Gertrudis herd were sold off at auctions, always for a hefty profit. Which generally went straight back into his horses. I’d be hitting him up for his assistance as soon as I saw him this evening. More than likely when he was having third helpings at the dinner table.
One of my dogs barking captured my attention. The barking came in quick succession as the other one joined in. I threw the truck in gear and took off toward the barking. The moment I came over the rise, I knew that Milo and Oz were doing their best to get my attention for a good reason.
I put my foot down a little and only a minute later There, in a ditch on the side of the road, was the bright red bug I had seen race by earlier. A deer lay across the blacktop not too far away from it. Its legs were at an odd angle and the Beetle had crashed hood first, right into one of my fence posts.
Swearing, I slammed the truck into Park once I was close enough. Without bothering to switch off the engine, I grabbed my hat and jumped out, then rounded the front of the truck and hauled myself over the fence. Sliding down the embankment landed me around fifteen feet from the back of the car. I whistled for the dogs and they bounded toward me. “Get back up there,” I growled at them, motioning to the truck above us. Their ears perked before I motioned again and they went running for it.
All I could think of as I approached the car was that it seemed to be a fairly decent accident, considering the car she was in. Still, I hoped to Christ she was okay. She came into view as I walked around the side. Fuck me if that sight wasn’t instantly burned into my brain to replay over and over again later tonight.
She was on the ground on her hands and knees, her tight black skirt was all but baring her fine-looking ass to me, almost daring me to put my hands on it. I could see the hint of some light pink lacy underwear. Then there was the obvious outline of her bra showing through the almost translucent, dirt-stained blouse. Not to mention the large tear that I’m guessing happened when Milo and Oz checked to see if she was okay.
My cock was trying to see if she was okay too. It pressed against the zipper of my jeans. I hadn’t even spoken to her yet and it was already twitching at the thought of getting inside her. As my gaze traveled over her, from the top of her raven hair to the impractical black high heels on her feet, I knew she didn’t belong here.
Not when every single thing about her screamed 100 percent city girl. But that wasn’t what I was here for. Trying to put the visual behind me, I moved to stand in front of her. Taking my hat off, I waved it in front of me as a breeze blew steam from the damaged radiator toward us.
“Well, darlin’,” I said with a smirk. “Ain’t you just a damsel in distress?”