Jason

I was not meant to take care of a ranch.

I’d always known, and it was one of the reasons I’d left to begin with. I was reminded of this when I tried to take care of the ranch after the funeral.

There was a time when I’d had a try at it, so it wasn’t like I didn’t know. But, for several months, I’d changed that knowledge into what I could do for my business, not how to take care of a ranch. In a lot of ways, my business in the city had been easy, especially since I’d had some partners that helped with the bulk of the work.

I had the ranch foreman to help out, but he was just another part-timer that had come in after I’d been gone, so most of the work still fell on me. I was starting to regret selling everything and coming down here so impulsively.

Then, Rachel walked into the office one morning, hands fisted on her hips with a fierce, determined look on her face.

“I’m going to help you, Jason, and you’re going to let me do it,” she declared, voice firm.

It surprised me. Ever since our