Shay looked tired this morning, but she put on her game face for everyone at the breakfast table. Reese was beginning to see how she pushed herself beyond her own limits for the men. A person’s passion could carry them a long way for quite some time, but Reese knew she was burning herself out. He didn’t approach Shay about it because he knew his concern could cause her more stress.
This morning, he liked that she wore her hair down, the brown and gold shining in the sunlight, the thick, slightly curled strands swaying with the movement of the sorrel gelding with four white lower legs named Socks. Like Reese, Shay wore a heavy denim jacket, work gloves, and jeans. Sometimes, as they rode down the five-strand barbed-wire fence line, their boots would occasionally touch . . .
Their breath, along with their horses’, was white vapor in the clear, pristine Wyoming morning. There were few trees within the wide, flat pastureland for as far as Reese could see. “This is good land to lease to a cattle herd,” he said. “The grass is almost knee-high.”
“My father earned his major money doing it that way,” Shay agreed.
“And because of all the fence-line repair that’s needed, you’re not leasing it out yet?”
“Right.” Shay spotted a loose wire on a fence down the line. “My father had fifteen wranglers while I was away in the Marine Corps. And it took that many men to keep this place going and repaired. Ten thousand acres of fence line is enough to keep anyone busy full-time.”
Nodding, Reese saw the issues. “Is one of your long-range plans to get this fence line fixed so you can lease out sections of land?”
She pulled her horse to a halt and dismounted. “Yes. But I’ve only been back a year, and my father had let this fence line go for three years before that. When I got home, I saw how badly broken-down the place had become.”
Dismounting, Reese said, “That’s a real shame.” He saw the snapped wire, the lowest strand, and pulled out the tools they’d need to fix it.
“All the guys come out at least twice a week in teams to work on the fences,” she said, getting down on her hands and knees. The grass was thickly coated with frost and it instantly soaked her Levi’s up to her knees. Reese walked to the other post, ten feet away, and began working on the broken strand. She grasped the rusty wire in her thick leather glove, holding out the end toward him. “They spend half a day at it. That’s all we can afford to do right now because they have day jobs, too. It’s always a balancing act, and sometimes the fence repair is let go because we need the money the guys pull in from their outside jobs, to keep the ranch solvent.”
Reese looped a new piece of wire onto the old one, quickly patching it. “It’s all about balancing one need against another,” he agreed, taking the end of the wire from her.
“I can’t expand the ranch’s facilities any more right now,” she said unhappily. “I feed you guys, and food isn’t cheap. Everyone is pitching in, but it’s a slow-growth kind of thing. Not as fast as I’d like.”
“Who came up with the indoor arena idea?” he asked, fixing the lowest strand. Now it was taut. If the lowest strand of wire was allowed to hang loose, a cow would try to get down on her knees and shimmy beneath it. Animals weren’t stupid.
Shay rose, dusting off strands of grass sticking to her wet knees. “I did.”
“You’re very astute,” Reese praised, standing. He walked over to his horse, Jax, placing the tools back into the saddlebags. “You’ve got a lot more savvy than you give yourself credit for, Shay.” He smiled at her across the saddle. She wore a cowboy hat, a black Stetson, and with her slightly curled hair around her face, her large blue eyes were emphasized. Eyes he could stare at and drown his soul in, if he allowed himself.
“Really?” She mounted. “When I first got home, after I got my father in the nursing facility, I rode for weeks, checking out all the fence line, making notes and realizing it was impossible to lease our pastures this year to ranchers. The cattle would get out all the time.”
He smiled over at her after mounting. “So you came up with the idea of the indoor arena, instead. That was a smart move, Shay. It will take a good year and a lot more than four men to get these fences back in shape for leasing once more. That arena will start turning a profit by this fall.” He saw her wrinkle her nose as their horses started into a plodding walk.
“If we can get it enclosed before the winter snow hits. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to your barn-raising idea. When I see Maud for lunch, I’m going to approach her about it.”
“Ask for her help. Her expertise,” Reese urged. “I’ll bet she’s done a few barn-raisings in her day. Besides, Steve being an architect? I’ll bet he could be a big help in giving you something you can use.”
“That’s another good idea. I’ll ask her about that, too. Maud is in her fifties, but you’d never know it. She’s so vital, busy, and bustling around. She’s a great manager at the Wind River Ranch.”
“How many wranglers does she employ?”