Then the shovel it was. “Okay.” She would have preferred to try her hand at patching irrigation pipe. “All of it goes on the field?”
He nodded. “The animals eat the plants and then fertilize them too. That’s the beauty of the circle of life.”
Kate did the first two chores and started in on the last. She learned three things while shoveling. First, the circle of life smelled awful—and got worse as the temperature climbed. Second, flies could make any chore worse. And third, she really should have bought better boots before she decided to work on a ranch. The ones she wore were now ruined for any social events. She would never get all the gunk out of the crevices.
At lunch time, she didn’t stop to eat. Her appetite had left the moment she started this task. She was hot, sweaty, and worried she was breathing in dung dust. She’d only managed to reduce the mountain into a menacing hill when she slipped on a patch and fell into the mound.
She caught herself before she did a face plant, which is when she realized how much her hands hurt. They stung like crazy—so much that she almost wished she hadn’t put them down to catch herself.
Her hat tumbled into the mound, but she didn’t bother retrieving it. She stood up, shaking her hands in a fruitless attempt to reduce the pain. “Crap. Crap. Crap!”
“That’s one name for it.”
She hadn’t seen Landon approaching, but he was strolling toward her, taking in the situation.
Of course, the guy had seen her slip into a manure pile. He was like some sort of chronicler of all her horrible life moments. He wore faded blue jeans that fit him just right, along with a tan T-shirt that showed off his muscled arms and chest. Really, how did a guy make an old T-shirt look that good? His blond hair was barely visible beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, but his eyes—those blue eyes could be seen anywhere. The guy oozed masculinity. How annoying.
Did she have anything gross in her hair? She used the back of her gloves to wipe the strands that had fallen into her face and wished she’d changed her gate settings so it didn’t automatically let vehicles in. “Hi, Landon. Can I help you?”
He tucked his thumbs into his pockets. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“How thoughtful.” She kept her voice light. “You smelled the welcoming scent of manure all the way from your ranch and drove over here to help?”
“Nah. I just came by to see how you were doing without your folks.” He’d come to check up on her. At least he’d found her outside working, even if he had witnessed her fall down and then inexplicably wave her hands around like they were on fire.
He surveyed the garden, the wheelbarrow, the shovel she’d flung on the ground, and her hat lying atop the dung pile like a flag planted on Mount Everest. “You seem to be doing fine.”
“Yep, if fine feels like your hands have been gouged.” She pulled off her gloves. A row of blisters spread across the base of her fingers. Most were already popped and weeping. How had she gotten so many when she’d been wearing gloves?
He stepped closer to her. “Your hands will toughen up after a…” He saw the raw welts and let out a whistle. “Why didn’t you stop when the blisters first formed?”
“I didn’t realize they were this bad. I was trying to get the job done.”
Landon nodded approvingly and took the gloves from her. “I’ll finish up here. You go bandage your hands. Cal has some antibiotic ointment in his first aid kit.”
“You want to do my work?” she asked, even though it was clear he intended to do just that. He’d already picked up the shovel. It was such a nice thing to offer, considering he didn’t want her to succeed at ranching.
He plucked up her hat and handed it to her. “Won’t take me long. You got most of it.”
He plunged the shovel into the pile with more force than she’d ever managed—biceps rippling—and dumped the load into the wheelbarrow as though it was effortless.
She refused to let the man’s physical prowess and generosity impress her. He was technically her competition, practically the enemy. But since he’d offered to shovel manure, she’d let him.
“Thanks.” She tromped off to the house, stomping her boots a little in an effort to knock off the manure. The stomping only managed to make her exit look ridiculous.
She left her hat and boots outside on the porch and headed to the master bathroom. The mirror revealed hair plastered against her head in sweaty, tangled strands. A layer of dirt dusted her features, and a brown smudge spread across her cheek. Gross. She’d talked to a hot guy with manure on her face.
She needed a shower, but she ought to bandage her hands and then go out and thank Landon for his help. That would be the polite thing to do.
On the other hand, she was filthy, and what good would it do to bandage her hands when she would just have to remove them to shower? Landon would be busy for at least a half hour. That’d give her time for a quick shower. She’d be superfast.
Kate grabbed some clean clothes and undressed. The process took longer than she’d expected due to her blistered hands. Washing her hair and scrubbing away the dirt also took longer for the same reason. To make up for the time, she hardly toweled off before pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. By then, her palms stung and she gave up on trying to do the button on her jeans.
With her hair dripping onto her T-shirt, she rifled through her grandfather’s bathroom cabinets searching for a first aid kit. She didn’t find one. All she managed to come up with was a bottle of alcohol and a couple loose Band-Aids. The Band-Aids were too small to use, and she didn’t feel like pouring alcohol on her wounds. Landon had said her grandfather’s first aid kit had antibiotic ointment.
Then again, maybe Landon just supposed that her grandfather had a first aid kit. She knelt in front of the sink and checked there. She found an assortment of soap, shaving cream, and razors—stuff Grandpa would never use again. She quickly closed the cupboard.
Out in the living room, Missy let out a few sharp barks and then a happy bark of welcome. Had Landon come to the house? He couldn’t be done already, could he?