"Wade?" Rhett sounds as surprised as I feel.
"She showed up," Wade says gruffly, lowering his hand. "Put in the work this morning without complaining. That counts for something." His brown eyes meet mine, hard and assessing. "But don't mistake this for trust. You still have to prove you won't bail when things get harder than one morning of work. You still have to prove you understand what this place means and that you won't destroy it chasing profit margins."
"I won't," I say, finding my voice.
"We'll see." He stands, grabbing his plate. "I need to check the irrigation system in the south pasture this afternoon. You want to learn this business? Come with me. We'll see how committed you really are."
It's another test. Another chance for me to fail in his eyes.
"What time?" I ask.
"Two o'clock. Meet me at the equipment barn. And Vaughn?" He pauses at the kitchen sink. "Bring water and wear sunscreen. It's going to be a long afternoon."
Then he's gone, walking out the back door and leaving me with five men who look various degrees of amused and sympathetic.
"Well," Rhett says. "That went better than expected."
"He voted yes," I say, still processing. "I thought for sure—"
"Wade's fair," Tucker interrupts. "Stubborn as hell and protective to a fault, but fair. You earned his vote this morning. Now you just have to keep earning it."
"For how long?"
"However long it takes." Mason stands, collecting plates. "But for what it's worth, I think you'll manage. You've got spine. That matters out here."
Emma tugs on my sleeve. "Uncle Wade likes you. He wouldn't take you to check irrigation if he didn't."
"How do you figure?" I ask, charmed despite my nervousness.
"Because that's boring work, and he only brings people he wants to talk to. Otherwise he goes alone." She says it with such certainty that I almost believe her.
After lunch, I retreat to the guest house to clean up and prepare for the afternoon. My body is already protesting the morning's work, muscles I didn't know I had making themselves known. I take some ibuprofen, change into fresh clothes, grab a water bottle and the sunscreen I thankfully packed.
At exactly two o'clock, I'm at the equipment barn.
Wade's already there, loading tools into the back of a beat-up pickup truck that makes my rental car look pampered. He glances up when I approach.
"You're on time."
"You said two o'clock."
"Most people would take that as two-ish. Rancher time." He tosses me a pair of work gloves. "But I appreciate punctuality."
I pull on the gloves, which are too big for my hands. "Where exactly are we going?"
"South pasture. The irrigation system Frank installed fifteen years ago is falling apart. We've been patching it as best we can, but it needs a complete overhaul we can't afford. I want to show you why that matters." He climbs into the driver's seat. "Get in."
The truck's interior smells like dirt, oil, and hard work. I climb into the passenger seat, and Wade starts the engine. It coughs twice before catching, and he mutters something under his breath that might be a prayer or a curse.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, following a dirt road that cuts through the ranch property. The landscape is beautiful: grassland rolling toward mountains, sky impossibly blue and huge overhead.
"Frank bought this land in pieces," Wade finally says, breaking the silence. "Started with two hundred acres and a dream. Spent thirty years building it into what it is now. Every fence post, every building, every system… He planned it, worked it, made it happen through sheer determination."
"That must have been incredible to watch."
"It was. He took me in when I was angry at the world and taught me that hard work and integrity matter more than anything else. That a man's worth isn't measured by where he comes from, but by what he builds." Wade's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "He trusted us. All six of us with his legacy. And I'm watching it crumble because the world doesn't care about hard workanymore. Just profit margins and efficiency and maximizing returns."
There's so much pain in his voice that I don't know how to respond. We drive further into the property, and I start to see what he means about the irrigation system. Pipes run through the pasture, many of them visibly cracked or leaking. The grass is patchy. Green in some areas, brown and struggling in others.
