I take a step closer. "Do you? Or do you believe what they pay you to believe? Why are they so focused on Walker Lake? There are ranches bigger than this for sale in the surrounding communities. Why not go there?"
Her cheeks color. "I didn't come here to argue. Just to give you an opportunity."
"I know exactly who you work for, Kassi. And I'm not interested. You can tell your boss to stop wasting his time."
Her eyes flash, and there's something raw in them. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough. Three visits in one month, each offer sweeter than the last. And I know you're not a local. So, either you're really invested in a paycheck, or you're naïve enough to think those suits you work for give a damn about this town."
She looks like she's about to say something, then stops. Her hand clenches around the clipboard. "You're wrong about me."
"Maybe. I hope I am. Because if you actually believe you're helping folks by pushing this crap, then someone's done a real number on you."
For a moment, we stand there. Her breathing is shallow, and her eyes are hard. But behind it, there's a flicker of something else. Hurt. Confusion.
"I've got work to do," I say, turning back toward the fence.
"You'll regret not even looking at the terms," she calls after me.
"No, I won't."
She huffs, climbs back into her car, and drives off fast enough to kick up dust. I watch her go until she's nothing but a shimmer on the horizon.
Finn wanders up beside me. "She's pretty. Shame she works for the devil."
"Yeah," I murmur, eyes still on the road. "Shame."
Zach joins us, throwing his gloves on the fence rail. "You get that look in your eye every time she shows up. You sure you're not tempted just a little?"
"More like tempted to toss her clipboard in the stock tank. Maybe."
Finn chuckles. "Or tempted to ask her to dinner."
"Y'all done?" I mutter, but I can't hide the flush on my neck.
Zach nudges me. "Just saying, I've seen less fire from you even when a bull busted down the east fence line. She's got you riled up."
"She's dangerous."
Finn slaps my shoulder. "So is every woman worth the trouble. You be careful, brother. Just don't pretend you're not thinking about her."
They walk off toward the truck, still talking and ribbing each other, but I hang back. Watching the dust settle where she drove away.
Because the truth is, I’m thinking about her. And not just the way her jeans fit or how her voice gets sharp when she's trying to prove a point. I'm thinking about the way her eyes flickered when I called her out. The way she didn't deny what she was doing, but she didn't defend it either.
I'm thinking I might’ve been too hard on her. That she might actually believe she's doing something good. And if she does, then someone's selling her a pretty damn good lie.
What if I'm wrong about her? Or worse, what if I'm right, and she's just another piece in their game? Either way, I can't stop seeing her face. Can't stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, there's more to Kassi Carson than a job title and a clipboard.
And I hate how much I want to find out.
Grabbing the fencing pliers, I stomp back toward the stretch of wire we hadn't finished tightening. My hands move on instinct, pulling and bracing, driving in staples hard enough that my palms sting. Every tug of the fence feels like a way to work herout of my head, but it's useless. She's tangled in there now, like barbed wire around my thoughts.
Chapter 2
Kassi
The smell of burnt toast and cheap coffee fills my tiny kitchen as I try to scrape the blackened edges off what's left of breakfast. Emma's sitting at the table, swinging her legs and humming some pop song under her breath like she doesn't have a care in the world. I envy that. Seven years old, second grade, still believing life is simple and fair and that everything can be fixed with glitter glue or a hug.