Ellie had barely started her second day on the ranch when she heard the unmistakable sound of hooves pounding against dirt. She stood in the middle of the corral, a rake in hand, as a shadow passed over her. She turned to see Wyatt Callahan astride his chestnut horse, both man and beast radiating annoyance.
"What now?" Ellie muttered under her breath, gripping the rake a little tighter.
Wyatt slowed his horse to a halt just outside the fence, his blue eyes narrowing as they took in the half-repaired barn and the sagging fence line she hadn't yet gotten to.
" You've got a problem," he said, tipping his hat back.
Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Gee, thanks for pointing that out. I wasn't aware."
Wyatt's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed level. "I'm talking about your cattle. Two of them were on my property again this morning. If you don't fix that fence, we're going to have more than words between us."
Ellie planted the rake into the dirt, crossing her arms. "You really have a way with people, Wyatt. Ever think of leading a workshop on neighborly charm?"
His lips twitched, but the smirk that might have formed was quickly swallowed by his frustration. "This isn't a joke, Bennett. Cattle wandering onto someone else's land isn't just inconvenient—it's dangerous. One of my bulls could take a swing at your heifer and you'd lose her. Or worse, one of my ranch hands might mistake them for a stray and rope them for auction."
Ellie's pulse quickened, though she refused to let her nerves show. "I know the fence needs work. I started on it yesterday, but it's going to take time."
"Well, time's running out," Wyatt said, leaning forward in the saddle. "If you don't have it fixed by the weekend, I'll put up a new section myself—and send you the bill."
Ellie bristled. "You're unbelievable."
Wyatt's gaze held hers, steady and unflinching. "No, I'm a rancher. And if you're planning to stick around, you'd better start acting like one too."
By the time Wyatt rode off, Ellie was seething. She stabbed the rake into the ground again and muttered every creative insult she could think of under her breath. The man was insufferable.
"He's not wrong, though," Jim's voice called from behind her, startling her.
Ellie turned to see the older man leaning casually against the barn door, his arms crossed and a faint smirk on his face.
"Don't tell me you're on his side," Ellie said, narrowing her eyes.
"I'm not on anyone's side," Jim said, pushing off the door and walking toward her. "But Wyatt's got a point. If your cattle keep wandering onto his land, it's only going to make things worse between you two."
Ellie sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I know. I just—I'm doing the best I can. It's only my second day, and I already feel like I'm drowning."
Jim's expression softened. "You're doing fine, Ellie. Better than I expected, honestly. But ranching's not something you can do halfway. You've got to take it head-on, or it'll bury you."
Ellie nodded, though the weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. "I'll fix the fence. Today."
Jim smiled. "That's the spirit. I'll lend a hand if you want."
"Thanks, Jim," Ellie said, her tone sincere. "I appreciate it."
The afternoon was spent wrestling with fencing wire and hammering posts into the hard-packed dirt. Ellie worked alongside Jim, her muscles screaming in protest, but she refused to stop.
By the time the sun began to set, the gap Wyatt had complained about was finally patched. Ellie leaned against the fence post, sweat dripping down her temples, and surveyed their handiwork with a sense of accomplishment.
"You did good," Jim said, clapping her on the shoulder.
Ellie smiled faintly. "Thanks. I just hope it's enough to keep him off my back for a while."
Jim chuckled. "Knowing Wyatt? Probably not."
The next morning, Ellie found herself bracing for another run-in with her infuriating neighbor. She stood on the porch, sipping a cup of coffee from the newly functional machine, when she spotted a familiar figure riding up the driveway.
Wyatt dismounted near the barn, his movements smooth and deliberate. He looked as if he belonged to the land itself, the sunset casting a golden glow over his broad shoulders.
"Morning," Ellie called, walking toward him.
Wyatt turned, his gaze sharp as ever. "Morning."
Ellie folded her arms. "Before you start, the fence is fixed. So whatever complaint you've got can wait."
To her surprise, Wyatt's expression softened—slightly. "I came to check on the fence, but it looks like you handled it."
Ellie blinked, caught off guard by the lack of venom in his tone. "Yeah. I did."
Wyatt nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Good. That's one less thing to worry about."
Ellie frowned, suspicion creeping in. "You're being…civil. What's the catch?"
Wyatt's mouth quirked, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner. "No catch. Just giving credit where it's due."
Ellie arched an eyebrow, unsure how to respond.
"Well, don't let it go to your head," Wyatt added, turning to mount his horse. "You've still got a lot of work ahead of you."
And just like that, he was gone again, leaving Ellie standing in the dust, more confused than ever.
As the day wore on, Ellie found herself replaying the conversation in her mind. Wyatt's words had been harsh, as usual, but there had been something else in his tone—something almost…respectful.
She shook her head, pushing the thought aside. It didn't matter. Wyatt Callahan could respect her or not; she wasn't here to win his approval. She was here to save her uncle's ranch and prove to herself that she could do it.
Still, as she watched the sun dip below the horizon that evening, Ellie couldn't help but wonder if she'd finally cracked through Wyatt's tough exterior—or if she was just imagining things.