I hesitate, looking down at her. "She's still recovering..."
Shadow crouches, scratching behind Charlie's ears. "Bring her. She can sit in the side-by-side. Better than leaving her cooped up inside."
My heart does something complicated in my chest.
He's thinking about my dog.
Making sure she's comfortable.
Being thoughtful in ways that shouldn't surprise me anymore but still do.
"Okay," I say softly. "She'd like that."
We load Charlie into Shadow's side-by-side and drive to the south pasture.
The morning sun is already heating up the day, promising the kind of brutal Texas heat that makes ranch work miserable by noon.
The crew is already there when we arrive—ranch hands, a couple prospects, and Spur.
Old fence posts are stacked to the side, new ones waiting to go in.
It's going to be a long, hard day of physical labor.
Shadow parks the side-by-side in the shade of a massive oak tree and helps Charlie up onto the bench seat.
She settles immediately, tongue lolling, clearly happy to be outside.
"You stay here, girl," I tell her, making sure her water bowl is full. "We'll check on you."
Charlie's tail thumps once, and I scratch her head before joining Shadow at the fence line.
The work is exactly as brutal as I expected.
Digging post holes in hard-packed Texas soil.
Driving new posts with the post driver, the impact jarring up through my arms.
Stringing barbed wire, careful not to cut myself on the sharp barbs.
Securing everything with tension and precision.
Shadow and I work side by side.
I hold posts while he drives them in, his muscles flexing with each strike.
He strings wire while I secure it, our movements coordinated like we've done this together for years instead of hours.
The crew notices.
I catch the ranch hands exchanging looks.
See the way the prospects whisper to each other.
Feel Spur's eyes on us more than once, but no one says anything.
Not until the water break.
Spur approaches as I'm chugging from my water bottle, sweat soaking through my tank top.
