Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  “You feeling up to getting those bales under cover?” he asked Erin.

  “You bet,” she said, even though she wanted to groan.

  “Good,” he said. “Just remember to work smart. Use the skidder as much as possible for the lifting and stacking, and you should do fine.”

  Erin watched him stride away. He hadn’t even wished her good morning. She guessed he didn’t appreciate having her on his crew. He must think Uncle Slade had been foolish to hire her. Erin thought back to when she’d gone to the academy and faced young men who didn’t like having a woman in their classes or challenging them on the mat. She hadn’t backed down then and wouldn’t now. But if she wanted to be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning, she did need to follow Vickie’s advice and work smarter today.

  Erin tried to use the skidder. No one had shown her how to operate it, but by trial and error she figured it out. Well, she had at least figured out how to run the thing, but operating it efficiently was a different kettle of fish. After she got a hay bale inside the bucket, she invariably dropped it en route to the barn. Then she had to climb out of the skidder to wrestle the bale back onto the blade. She finally decided it would be easier just to pick the things up and carry them over to the hay storage area.

  That was how Wyatt found her, struggling to carry bales from the flatbed into the hay barn. Erin’s face went hot with embarrassment. The first few bales had been easy enough to lift, but after handling a dozen, her back was giving her fits. Wyatt watched her for a moment, then he climbed into the skidder and made short work of transporting the hay into the barn.

  When he’d finished, he joined her at the flatbed and said, “That’s how you work smarter.”

  She could have kicked him. “I tried to use the skidder. The bales kept falling out of the bucket. I couldn’t move much with it.”

  He tipped his hat to her and said, “Practice makes perfect. You can’t expect to become an expert with your first try. Just keep dropping bales until you get the hang of it.”

  “I wasn’t getting any work done that way.”

  “And you won’t get anything at all done tomorrow if you hurt your back trying to buck that much hay. If you don’t learn how to work smarter, you’re going to fail.”

  If Erin had been able to lift one of her aching legs high enough, she would have kicked him on the rump as he walked away.

  Over the next few days, Erin grew sick of people telling her to “work smarter.” Even Vickie kept yammering about it. Erin wanted so badly to tell them she had learned to hold her own on the mat with any male police officer who challenged her. She’d also become an expert marksman and learned to drive like Mario Andretti. She could take down a Seattle street thug, even when he was armed. She didn’t need to work smarter. She just needed to toughen up and get her body conditioned for the work.

  * * *

  * * *

  Wyatt understood that Erin was in desperate need of a job, but he was also worried about her. The other two new hires had at least some ranching experience. Erin not only worked too hard and tried to get things done too fast, but she was pushing her way into dangerous situations where she might get hurt. She’d never been around horses that much and wasn’t careful to avoid getting kicked. Wyatt had known strapping men who’d gotten a femur snapped by a well-aimed hoof.

  Finally, Wyatt decided the situation was serious enough that he had to talk to Slade. He found his boss in the tack room at the back of the horse barn. Slade was cleaning and conditioning leather with saddle soap. He sat on a tripod stool. When Wyatt entered the enclosure, he closed the door behind him so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. Then he found a stool for himself and sat facing his boss.

  “I need to speak with you about Erin.”

  Slade gave him a sharp look and then returned his attention to the leather. “I’m listening.”

  Wyatt told him of his concerns. Slade seemed to be mulling it over, and Wyatt half expected him to lose his temper. Complaining to one’s boss about a dearly loved relative in his employ wasn’t the smartest move Wyatt had ever made.

  Finally, Slade said, “You’re the foreman. If Erin is taking foolish risks, she’s a liability. You need to get her straightened out or let her go. Just because she’s my niece doesn’t make her so special she can’t be fired.”

  “I’d prefer not to let her go,” Wyatt said. “I just can’t get her to listen to me.”

  Slade nodded. “Vickie has mentioned that, too. She thinks Erin has been emotionally messed up by her father. That she can’t accept being bested by a man. That’s crazy thinking.”

  Wyatt ran a hand over his face. “I’ll try talking to her one more time, boss.”

  “Just remember this,” Slade said. “I keep no hired hand on the payroll who foolishly puts himself at risk of physical injury. I understand that people will do some dangerous stuff in emergency situations, and I do let that slide, but a person who screws up several times a day is out the door. It doesn’t matter to me if the transgressor is a stranger or a relative. This ranch is a business, and I treat it as such. That’s been my policy for years, and I’m not going to change it for Erin. I’ll still love her. She’ll still be welcome to stay with us at the main house until she gets back on her feet. But I won’t keep her on the payroll if she puts this ranch at risk. For one, if she gets badly hurt, my insurance rates will shoot through the ceiling. For another, I wouldn’t put it past her father to sue me.”

  “I had her sign a waiver, just like everyone else.”

  “Might not matter to him. Talk with Erin. Lay down the law to her. Handle it however you would with any other employee.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Wyatt was deep in thought as he left the horse barn and ran into Kennedy, who barreled through the doorway as if his tail were on fire.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, even in here. Tex told me Slade is in the tack room, so I was going to see if he knew where you were.”

  “Well, you’ve found me. Is something wrong?”

  “Jen’s dad just called. They finally got her blood pressure back up to normal, and yesterday they were able to do surgery on her arm. I guess they had to bolt her wrist back together.”

  “Ouch,” Wyatt said. “I’m glad to hear she’s doing better, though.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Kennedy agreed. “I’d really like to go see her, Wyatt. Her dad says she’s been asking for me.”

  Things were ramping up on the ranch. Two of the cows had dropped their calves that morning, and Wyatt fully expected more to follow. In his years of working with cattle, he’d come to believe that one cow giving birth somehow got all the other cows in the mood for birthing. He knew it made no sense and wasn’t a proven fact, but it sure seemed that way to him. It wasn’t a good time for Kennedy to leave him shorthanded.

  “When are you wanting to go?”

  “Tomorrow, if that’s all right. It’s Saturday, and I don’t have any classes.”

  Wyatt saw the yearning in his brother’s eyes and didn’t have the heart to tell him no. “Okay, but the cows are starting to calve, so I may be busy. I might not be able to do all my work and yours, too. I’ll need you to catch up on things when you get home, so don’t stay gone too late.”

  “You’re the best!” Kennedy stepped forward to give Wyatt an enthusiastic hug. “And I’ll hurry back. I promise.”

  Wyatt watched his brother walk away. Then he decided to find Erin. He didn’t believe in putting off things until tomorrow if he could get them done today. He needed to talk to her, and he’d only stew about it if he waited. But before he could even move his feet, Tex rode into the ranch proper on a red quad and sent dust up in a mushroom cloud as he brought the vehicle to a sliding stop.

  “We got a calf comin’ breech. We need you out there, ASAP.”

  Wyatt swung onto the four-wheeler behind Tex and
grabbed the bars of the back cargo frame, and they tore off for the pasture.

  * * *

  * * *

  The following day, Kennedy’s absence seemed to kick Erin into an even higher gear. She rushed from one task to the next as if she were being timed by a stopwatch and needed to break a speed record. Wyatt hoped she would eventually wear herself out and slow down, but she continued to lift more weight than she safely could. When she went into the hay barn and came out carrying a hay bale that probably weighed a third as much as she did, he bit down hard on his back teeth. But it was late that afternoon when she finally pulled a stunt stupid enough to make him see red.

  He’d taken a gelding into one of the barn stalls to check its frog for stones because the animal was limping. He tied the horse off and had just bent over to get its front hoof turned up and wedged between his knees when Erin entered the stall. Even though he’d warned her several times not to walk up behind a horse without speaking to it and putting a hand on its rump, she did exactly that. Walked in and stood directly behind the animal in its blind spot.

  Crouched with his rump pointed toward the barn wall, Wyatt glanced up at her.

  “I’ve finished everything on my list. What should I do next? Everyone else is still working on the chores you told them to do this morning. Should I help them get finished, or do you have something else for me to do?”

  He could tell by the gleam in her blue eyes that she felt proud of herself for finishing first, and that pissed him off even more than the fact that she had put her safety at risk. “I’d like you to move out from behind the horse!” Wyatt wasn’t sure if he yelled. He only knew his throat had gone tight and it felt like the veins were distended in his neck. “Now. Not tomorrow. Move!”

  She quickly sidestepped and held up her hands. “Oops. Sorry. I forgot.”

  “If you forget the safety procedures around horses, you’re going to get hurt. I know I’ve told you how to safely approach a horse from behind at least a half dozen times now.”

  “I know, I know. They have a blind spot, and I need to talk to them and touch their butts. I’ve got it.”

  “If you’ve got it, why did you just do the exact opposite?” Wyatt found a stone in the gelding’s frog and dislodged it with his pick. As he lowered the animal’s leg back to the ground, he straightened and moved toward Erin. He guessed his face mirrored his anger, because she fell back a step. “I think we need to take a walk.”

  She blinked. He tried not to notice how cute she looked in a red ball cap with her wealth of dark hair poking out the hole in back. She wore a dingy T-shirt over mud-streaked jeans, and her cheeks were rosy from exercise. He knew she’d been working her tail off, which made him feel even worse about what he had to say to her. Damn it. Wyatt cared about Erin. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings or fire her, but her determination to outdo everyone had to stop before she ended up hurt or possibly lame for the rest of her life.

  “I—um—don’t really have time for a walk,” she said. “If you have something you need me to do, I will, of course. But otherwise I should help the other guys get their work finished. With Kennedy gone today, there’s a lot more for us to do.”

  Wyatt brushed past her and put his hand on the top rail of the gate, which she’d forgotten to close after she rushed in. He had the horse tethered, so it wasn’t that big a deal. This time. But what if the animal hadn’t been tethered? Erin might have startled it, and it could have taken off for tall timber.

  “I just told you what I want you to do,” he said. “We’re taking a walk.”

  “But I—”

  “No buts. What I have to say to you shouldn’t be overheard by the others.”

  He waited for her to step through the opening and then secured the barrier. “The next time you enter an occupied stall, close the gate.”

  He struck off for the wide front opening of the barn, measuring his strides so she could catch up with him. When she didn’t, he turned to see what the holdup was. She was just standing there with a mutinous expression on her face, and he had a bad feeling this conversation wouldn’t go well.

  She finally sighed in defeat. He knew that because he saw her shoulders slump. She took long, slow strides toward him. When she finally reached him, he struck off for the creek.

  When they reached the log, Wyatt gestured for her to sit down. She glared at him. “If you’re going to talk to me, just spit it out. I didn’t come down here with you for a cozy visit.”

  Wyatt scratched behind his ear, dislodged his Stetson, and almost lost it to the brisk breeze. “Okay. I’ll sit. I haven’t been off my feet all day.” He made himself comfortable on the log. “I’ll just lay it out for you, Erin. You clearly have issues. I understand that your father was a jerk when you were growing up. Probably still is, but you’re a grown woman now, and I can’t cut you slack until you get your head on straight.”

  “Cut me slack? I’ve been outworking every man on this ranch!”

  “And that right there is part of the problem. You see everything we do as some kind of competition, and you rush through every job as if it’s a race for you to get done first. Just now wasn’t the only time you’ve walked up behind horses without letting them know you’re there. You’re going to get hurt, either because you can’t be bothered to follow the rules or because you’re so bent on outdoing all the men that you do things without any thought for your own well-being. If you don’t get a handle on all that, I’m going to have to let you go. You need to decide right now which it’s going to be.”

  Her chest jerked with laughter, but judging by her expression, it wasn’t a jovial sound. “So you’re going to fire me? The best worker you’ve got? Maybe you should ask Uncle Slade how he feels about that.”

  Wyatt had hoped the conversation wouldn’t lead him to this point. He had a feeling Erin had already endured enough heartache. “I’ve already spoken with Slade.”

  “Oh? And what did he say? Did he tell you to fire me?”

  “Yes. If you can’t make some changes. You’re a liability.” Wyatt swallowed. His throat had gone so dry it burned. “As things stand, you’re an accident waiting to happen. He doesn’t want you to get hurt because he loves you very much, but he also worries about his insurance premiums going straight through the roof if you’re badly injured.”

  Her face drained of color. “He actually said you have the authority to fire me? Without him even talking to me first?”

  Wyatt understood how that must make her feel. Slade was a father figure to her, and once again she had failed to measure up. He wished he knew how to make her see it differently, or that there was a balm to heal wounded hearts. But he had no magic at his disposal. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why he didn’t talk to you himself. It wasn’t my business to ask.”

  Her eyes flared with anger. “I see. So what did you tell him that made him decide I should be fired?”

  “He didn’t decide. He left the decision up to me.”

  Her eyes went bright with tears. “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing but the truth. I don’t want to let you go. But I’m going to have to if you can’t start listening to me about safety.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Nobody had ever threatened to fire Erin, and for a moment, she questioned her own ears. But the stern set of Wyatt’s expression and the fact that he met her gaze with unwavering resolve told her he’d spoken nothing but the unvarnished truth and would let her go if she kept screwing up.

  “I know very well that I’ve accomplished just as much every day as, if not more than, the men I’m up against,” she told him.

  His eyes darkened with what looked like sadness. “You’re not up against anyone. Nobody here wants you to fail. Nobody is trying to make you look bad. You’re working on a ranch now. Nobody cares how strong you are or how you go about accomplishing tasks. All anyone here cares about is
that you get your share of the work done. Do you get that? I hope so, because if you’re so focused on outperforming everyone else that you walk in close behind a horse again, I’ll fire you on the spot. Even when we’re careful, this is dangerous work, and you’re not being careful. This is my first and last official warning to you. Deliberately ignore safety procedures again, and you’ll be gone.”

  After delivering that ultimatum, he turned and strode away. Erin balled her hands into fists and took three steps after him. If he was going to fire her, she’d at least give him a reason. “You’re an asshole!” she screamed.

  Only Wyatt didn’t hear the insult. She stood there, watching his retreating back. He was returning to the ranch proper, where he reigned as the shit-kicker king.

  Deflated, she sank down on the log and stared through tears at the creek. I don’t do dumb-ass things, she assured herself. And who’s to say how much punishment my body can take? No matter how sore I was, I hit the deck every morning and put in a hard day with the men. I haven’t backed away from a single job, no matter how disgusting or difficult it was. And yet he threatened to fire me? Why? Is it because I refuse to be girly and do everything the easy way?

  Erin knew she was arguing her case inside her mind, which was a normal thing for people to do. But with bone-chilling alarm, she realized it wasn’t her voice she heard. It was her father’s. What on earth was that all about? She hugged her waist, shivering as if from the cold, only it was a balmy afternoon. As she began to calm down, some of what Wyatt had said to her began to sink in, and she realized that she actually had been competing with the men. Her therapist, Jonas Sterling, would tell her to back off and regroup. He’d also push her to search within herself to answer questions she might never have thought to ask herself.