I wanted to remind Clint that he wasn't his father, but I knew better than to question the wisdom of a ranch man's dead father.
"Well, you could think about it," I said.
He nodded, absently.
The next day, Clint and I were riding out on an ATV, tooling around the property checking on fences and trading kisses.
He'd offered me a spot on his ride. Usually, I took a second ATV out so that I could explore and race with him, but today I had wanted the excuse to keep my arms wrapped around him. I was enjoying my decision, leaning my face against his flannel work shirt and shutting my eyes, smelling his spicy, masculine scent, and feeling our bodies against each other.
"Shit," he muttered, and I snapped my eyes open, sitting up. I'd never heard Clint cuss before, although he didn't seem to mind my rougher language.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
There were a few men off in the distance, I saw, peering over his shoulder.
"I wish you were on your own, and I could send you back," he said. "Hold on tight."
"I wouldn't go," I muttered.
Clint spurred the ATV faster. "I don't know those men, but I know that that's my land."
I shrugged, and held tightly to him as the ATV bumped along.
When we got within earshot of the men, Clint yelled "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
A leader stepped forward, smiling, holding his hands out ingratiatingly. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.
"Morning, Clint," he said. "Our apologies if we startled you, a few of our cows busted the fence and headed through this way, we were trying to round them back up."
Clint said nothing, but I could feel the anger and tension in his entire body.
The man pointed off to the fence, where there was definitely a break, and a few horses standing on the other side of it.
"We didn't think you'd want us riding through here, so we came on foot," the man continued.
"I don't want you on my land," Clint growled. "I'll send my men out to fix the fence and round up your animals, we can load them into a livestock trailer and take them over your way."
The man nodded.
"Fine, fine. It's a nice day, at least. Glad not to be chasing the sorry shits through six inches of mud," he said. "Beautiful day to ride around with a pretty girl."
One of his men said something too low for us to hear, and the others chuckled. I didn't like the sound of their laughter, it raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
"I've actually been wanting to talk to you, Clint," the man said.
"Pick up the phone," Clint ground out.
"Would you answer?" the man asked. Before Clint responded, he said, "While I have you, I want
to let you know that I'd like to make an offer on your old place."
Clint sat up even straighter.
"Not for sale," he said.
"Are you sure?" the stranger said. "It's a lot of work, and you're not quite up to it, are you?"
No one spoke for a minute.