Page 3 of Grit
“Ox said you’d be out here.” He slid off her mother’s gelding, PJ. “I followed the fence.”
“Do you have a—” She saw the posthole digger strapped to the side of the horse. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to ride back.”
He waded through the mud to get to her. “You can’t use the old hole?”
“The water washed too much of it away. I’ll never be able to secure a new post in this storm, and the herd has already tried to break through and go down the hill.”
He squinted through the rain. “And we’re not letting them because…?”
“More flooding in the lower pastures, and I don’t want them crossing the creek. Too many calves. Believe it or not, this is the driest place on the ranch; they’ve got tree cover here.”
The cattle were huddled under the low oaks that spread across the hills of the upper pasture in Christy Meadow. Unfortunately, the storm had already damaged one of the posts securing the fence that kept them away from a muddy road that crossed a rushing creek.
Melissa had thought she was going to have to repair it herself when Ox told her he was stuck in town with a client. She had no idea he’d called Cary.
“Tell me what to do,” he said. “I’ve never done this, but I’m good at following directions.”
If there was one thing she loved about Cary, it was his lack of ego. The man was incredibly competent in many, many things, but he had no problem admitting when he didn’t know something and he didn’t get his ego bent out of shape.
As she shouted directions at him, they managed to repair the fence well enough to last through the storm.
“That’s good.” She rolled a rock over to prop the new post up. “Can you…?” She pointed to another large rock on the other side.
“Got it.” He bent over, his shirt plastered to his torso, and rolled the basketball-sized granite stone over to brace the new post.
As his shoulders flexed, Melissa felt a stirring in her belly.
What?
She hadn’t felt that in… a while. Years.
“Just this one?” Cary grunted as he rolled the rock.
“Yeah, one should be enough.”
His hair was coming loose from the low ponytail where he’d secured it. Wet strands stuck to the defined line of his jaw and brushed the strong cord of muscle in his neck.
Melissa swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her eyes from his arms as he rose. He must have caught her stare, because he frowned.
“What?”
Oh God, how embarrassing.“Nothing. Thanks—I’m surprised we got that done so quickly.”
Cary smiled. “We’re a good team.”
His smile was a little crooked. Had it always been that way? He turned and reached for the posthole digger, then tied it to PJ’s saddle. Her eyes fell to his ass, which was framed by a pair of wet Wranglers.
Melissa forced her eyes away. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t a fifteen-year-old girl anymore. This was Cary. Her neighbor. Her friend.
Stop checking out his ass, Melissa!
Once she’d noticed it, she couldn’t stop looking. Had he always had that sexy line from his shoulders to his hips? She’d always thought of him as stocky, but he wasn’t. His shoulders were just really broad.
“…after we get the horses put up.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You feeling okay?” He frowned. “We should get you back to the ranch.”
