Nothing exciting happened after dinner. Once I finished my plate, I excused myself and went upstairs to get ready for bed. It was only 8:00 p.m., but I was notorious for sticking to my 9:00 bedtime. Plus, I wanted some time to decompress and call my parents. Since their divorce a couple of years ago, phone calls were a two-part event: one for Mom and one for Dad. Neither had much new to report. Both gave me the same advice they'd shared yesterday—give it time, settle in, and you'll find your routine.

My bed was already made with horse-themed sheets, but I was thankful I'd picked up a heavier blanket at Walmart. The temperature dropped quickly in the evenings, and it was already freezing. It didn't take long to get ready for bed. Sitting down, I tested the mattress to see how well it might treat me this summer. It wasn't bad, but the room's attic layout was going to take some getting used to.

The North wall sloped sharply down, making each bed feel tucked under a low ceiling, with a single window in the middle. Sleeping with my feet under the slope meant having the window in my face, but putting my head there was worse—I'd already learned how easy it was to sit up too quickly and smack my head. Sighing, I curled into a ball under the covers, listening to the silence of the lodge. Before I could overthink anything, sleep claimed me.

I woke up shivering, feeling like I'd spent the night in a freezer. Had someone forgotten to turn on the heat? There was no way it should be this cold indoors. Grumbling, I layered up in old jeans, a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, and my trusty purple winter jacket.

Downstairs, breakfast was already underway. The staff room looked the same as it had last night, except for a new face: a woman working busily in the kitchen. I shuffled past without interrupting her, heading for the same seat by Miranda. She greeted me with a warm smile, and I appreciated her easygoing attitude.

Miranda was as new as I was, though she'd arrived a few days earlier. She still seemed to be finding her footing, but there was a quiet confidence about her, like she wasn't in a rush to figure everything out. Her relaxed demeanor helped me feel like we were in this together.

The woman cooking breakfast came in balancing several plates on her arm. Beth jumped up from the head of the table to help distribute the food. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns filled the plates, and my stomach growled at the sight.

The woman noticed me and smiled. "You must be Holly! Gene told me you'd finally made it to Broken Arrow. I'm his wife, Erica."

"It's nice to meet you," I said. "This seems like a cool ranch you've got here."

"We have a lot of fun," Erica replied, her smile warm. "You'll meet Wyatt—Gene's brother—at the barn today. Just remember, he's your boss." She laughed, but her tone held a subtle warning before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

I glanced at Miranda, but she seemed as puzzled by Erica's comment as I was.

Breakfast ended with Beth checking her phone. "We'd better head down to the barn so we're not late," she announced.

I appreciated her punctuality; we still had fifteen minutes, but I also preferred to be early. After clearing my plate and leaving it on the designated kitchen table, I followed Miranda upstairs to grab my muck boots and double-layered socks. The cold wasn't relenting, but at least the valley's view, still shadowed by the towering mountains, made up for it.

"It's your first day of actual work, right?" I asked Miranda.

"Yeah, I got here Friday, so I've just been settling in over the weekend," she replied.

We arrived at the barn just before 9:00. The red door was already ajar, and Miranda led the way inside. Despite a single overhead bulb casting its yellow glow, the barn felt dim. Three box stalls lined the far wall, while tack and gear were scattered in various piles. A smaller door on the right, blocked by a gate, seemed to lead into the corral.

Beth was rummaging through a pile of horse halters and lead ropes on the ground. Finding what she was looking for, she walked through the gate and hung them neatly on a rack outside.

"You guys should find a halter and lead rope you like," Beth advised, pointing to the rack. "We use the same ones every day for our wrangler horses. I needed my same one from last year, and luckily it turned up."

Before I could take her advice, the barn door creaked open. Ellie walked in, followed by a young man I didn't recognize. He wasn't much older than thirty, with short brown hair tucked under a baseball cap and a clean-shaven face. He ducked slightly to get through the doorway, his tall frame making it seem too small.

"Hey, Wyatt!" Beth greeted him enthusiastically. "I was just telling the newbies about finding their own halters and lead ropes for the summer."

So this was Wyatt—Gene's brother and, apparently, our boss. He didn't look old enough to run half a dude ranch. I'd expected someone closer to Gene's age; they had to be at least ten years apart. Wyatt's clothes were practical and worn—a dirty Carhartt jacket and jeans that seemed ready to rip at the knees. Despite his youth, there was something authoritative about the way he carried himself. As he glanced around the barn, I felt the quiet anticipation of my first real day begin to build.

"Why don't you all grab a handful of halters and ropes actually and meet me in the truck? We're gonna go grab a load of horses from Frosty's," Wyatt instructed before he ducked out of the barn again.

The four of us did as we were told and then walked back out of the barn. The sunlight finally had started to crest the mountain, and it felt good to step into its warmth. It already felt more intense being so high up in the mountains.

A large white Ford pickup truck hooked to a long aluminum gooseneck trailer was pulling out of the corral behind the barn, and Wyatt slowed so we could pile in. Beth jumped in shotgun of course, and me, Miranda and Ellie ended up in the back seat. I got stuck in the middle much to my dismay, but the last thing I was going to do was complain about it. Ellie hadn't said anything all morning which I was happy about. I always got labeled the quiet one in social circles, but even Ellie seemed quieter than me. I looked up from the floor as Wyatt started moving the truck, and when I glanced up in the rearview mirror our eyes locked. I looked away quickly from his intense brown-eyed gaze.

"You're both new, duh. So, which one of you is which?" Wyatt asked.

"I'm Miranda."

"I'm Holly."

Me and Miranda both spoke at the same time, and I felt embarrassed for speaking so quickly. Miranda introduced herself again while I was lost in thought for a moment, and then I recovered and introduced myself without interrupting Miranda this time.

To show I was curious to learn all about the ins and outs of the ranch, I asked, "where are we going? The horses aren't kept at the ranch?" Every barn I ever worked at always kept the horses on the property so I was actually curious where they all were because I had yet to see any horses in the pastures we passed on the ranch's driveway; just cows.

"The ranch didn't start out with a lot of property, only 50 acres or so. It's been in the family for, well, almost a hundred years now, and over time we have expanded quite a bit. The ranch has about a thousand acres surrounding it, and we have maybe another thousand scattered all over Frostline. Where we are going, Frosty's, is technically leased land from the town. It used to be the founding ranch property for Frostline in the early 1900s. It surrounds the Colorado River and has lots of grass, so it's really good land to keep a lot of the horses on for the winter," Wyatt explained.

By now he had since turned out of the driveway and headed back towards the town of Frostline. A mile before the main strip, he turned onto a dirt road that snaked away from town, with pastures on either side of it. We eventually stopped at an old gate which Beth opened. The pastures I was used to back home were nothing compared to these. I had never been in a pasture that I could not see either end of; these seemed endless.

Wyatt shut the truck off and hopped out of the truck, "does everyone have some halters and ropes?"

We nodded.

"Have you all caught a horse before? I hope so if you've made it this far! The biggest thing to keep in mind is approach slowly and keep the halters behind your back. These horses have been out to pasture for 8 months and they're on the verge of being wild again," Wyatt chuckled and added, "we will be out here for weeks trying to catch everyone if they all get riled up."

I was glad I had brought my muck boots because there was a small stream at the front of the pasture we were about to enter. This pasture started flat, and then seemed to continue up the rising mountain in the middle as the fence line disappeared around either side of it. The horses were scattered across the space, some in big groups, others in twos or threes. A couple older looking horses were walking towards us, excited to see some people.

"We want to catch younger looking ones that won't need shoes right away. So don't worry about these ones," Wyatt said as he opened the old metal gate to let us in the pasture. We all started to fan out to approach different groups of horses. I started walking towards a pair of duns and an appaloosa. The appy took one look at me and trotted off which already had me worried. I did not want to be the one to rile up the horses if they decided to not be caught. Much to my luck, the pair of dun geldings stood and let me approach them.

I snuck a rope around one of their necks so I had a little bit of control, and slowly haltered them. I now had two horses! I took a moment to look around and take in the scenery. I could see Frostline in the center of the valley, and the entire space was surrounded by mountains. I couldn't believe some people actually lived here and got to see these sights every day. I saw my peers already had a horse or two as well. I tried to approach the appaloosa again since I had now caught the two horses that seemed to be her friends, but she was not interested. I left her alone and started walking back towards the gate.

"You should let me trade with you! You grabbed Huck and he can be a handful because he likes to pull back," Beth explained as I approached her.

I wasn't going to argue, so I traded for Beth's two horses. I walked through the creek, pulling the two behind me who walked through easily. As I was looking back, one of the dun, planted his feet before the creek catching Beth off guard. She lost her balance and planted face first into the water. I looked away, trying not to laugh, but also glad I did not have Huck anymore if she thought she would have a better time handling him!

Wyatt was behind us dragging along his own group of horses, and I heard him say to Beth, "it's a bit too cold for a swim, isn't it?"

"Damn, Huck!" Beth cursed.

Wyatt opened up the gate, and then the trailer and started taking horses from us and loading them up. The trailer was larger than it looked because he got a dozen horses in before we ran out of space. We loaded back into the truck, and Wyatt started to drive the twenty minutes back to the ranch. No sooner than we got back to the ranch it was time for lunch even though I was still full from breakfast.

The lodge's dining room was alive with the chatter as Jessie served us plates of sandwiches and bowls of chips were passed around. I sat between Miranda and Ellie at the long, weathered wooden table, trying to shake the chill that still clung to me from the morning in the pasture. Wyatt sat across from us, his cap pushed back slightly as he leaned on his elbows, half-listening to Beth at the head of the table animatedly recounting her tumble into the creek.

"I'm telling you," Beth said with dramatic flair, waving a chip in the air like a pointer, "Huck is a devil in disguise. The way he planted his feet at the water like, 'Not today, lady.' I should've seen it coming. But don't worry, Holly, I'm sure you'll get plenty of chances to deal with him." She gave me a teasing grin.

I smiled nervously, unsure how to respond. Wyatt chuckled under his breath and shook his head. "Huck's not that bad if you know how to handle him. He just doesn't like being rushed."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Says the guy who can practically whisper horses into halters."

Wyatt shrugged. "Patience goes a long way. Not that I expect that from you, Beth."

Wyatt's gaze flicked to me. "So, Holly, you did fine this morning. Did you end up catching those duns all on your own?"

I nodded, caught off guard by the attention. "Yeah, they were pretty cooperative. The appaloosa, though... not so much."

"That would be Freckles... Appys are always the hardest," Wyatt said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Smart horses like her know they've got the upper hand if they keep their distance. Don't take it personally."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a little less self-conscious.

Beth snorted. "Don't let Wyatt fool you into thinking it's all about technique. He's just lucky."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Wyatt replied, his tone even but sharp enough to shut down any further teasing. He took a bite of his sandwich, then looked at me again.

The conversation shifted as Miranda asked a question about the afternoon's tasks, and Wyatt began explaining the next steps which didn't have to do with horses. We would instead learn how to fence. I leaned back slightly, letting their voices wash over me as I tried to soak it all in. Despite the newness and the nerves, I couldn't help but feel like I was starting to fit into this place—or at least trying to.

As the lunch plates were cleared and everyone started to disperse, Wyatt stood, brushing crumbs from his hands onto his jeans. "Alright, we've got a busy afternoon. Holly, Miranda—why don't you two come with me? We'll start with something simple: fixing fences."

Miranda shot me a curious glance, and I shrugged. Fencing? That wasn't exactly what I expected on my first day, but it didn't sound too bad.

Beth smirked as she passed us on her way to the barn. "Simple, he says. Just wait until you're dragging fence posts uphill."

"You'll be fencing soon enough. You and Ellie can start organizing the halters, ropes, and other crap in the barn to get it off the floor. I'll be back to show you where to organize after I get them started," Wyatt instructed Beth.

"You'll regret not taking your best fencer with you!" Beth whined.

Wyatt ignored her, motioning for us to follow. Outside, the sun was finally starting to warm the air, melting away the last bits of frost on the grass. He led us to an old flatbed truck that wasn't there earlier parked near the barn, its bed piled high with wooden posts, spools of wire, and a variety of tools.

"You ever done any fencing before?" Wyatt asked, looking between me and Miranda as he grabbed a pair of work gloves from the cab.

I shook my head. Miranda hesitated before answering, "Not really. I've fixed a broken rail or two at my aunt's place, but nothing serious."

"Good," Wyatt said, tossing us each a pair of gloves. "Fencing's straightforward. It's just time-consuming and a little back-breaking if you're not careful. Hop in."

The three of us climbed into the truck, with Wyatt driving us down a dirt path that wound through the ranch's pastures. The smell of sun-warmed earth and the faint sounds of cattle in the distance filled the air as we bounced along the uneven road.

"So, what's wrong with the fence?" I asked, trying to sound interested and not just bracing for whatever physical labor was coming my way.

"Winter's hard on fences," Wyatt explained, keeping his eyes on the path. "The weight of the snow, fallen branches, animals pushing through—all kinds of things can tear it up. If we don't stay on top of repairs, the cattle and horses could wander off, and then we've got bigger problems."

After a few minutes, Wyatt pulled the truck to a stop beside a long stretch of barbed wire fence that ran along the driveway. We were almost to the end of the driveway where it meets the main road. It was obvious where the damage was: one section had sagged under the weight of a broken rail, and another post leaned at an awkward angle, barely holding the rest of the structure in place.

Wyatt jumped out of the truck and grabbed a tool and a spool of wire. "Alright, let's get to it. I'll show you the basics, and then you two can take turns while I supervise. Deal?"

Miranda and I exchanged a look. "Deal," we said in unison, climbing out of the truck and following him to the fence.

Wyatt gave us both a roll of smooth wire and a red handled hammer-looking tool, "this here is a fencing tool. You could save the world with one of these. Don't lose them either." He walked to the bent t-post and used all of his weight to bend it back to being halfway straight.

"What we do when fixing fences is generally simple. There are thousands of miles of fence line and there is not enough time to fix every fence to be perfect. So bend the posts if you can, or tie the fence wire to a tree or something," Wyatt said and then he cut the barbed wire in half.

"The wire was too loose from being bent all winter. So cut it, and then tighten it like so," Wyatt explained as he bent the wire in a loop on both sides of the barbed wire. Then, he wrapped the smooth wire on one side of the barbed wire, and used his tool and the smooth wire to stretch the wire snug. "You must wrap it three times to lock it, otherwise it will come undone. Then, you use a small piece of your smooth wire to clip it to the fence." Wyatt used his tool to wrap the smooth wire to the t post, securing the wire in place. "Now you try."

There were three strands of wires and Wyatt already did the top. Miranda started on the second wire and made it look easy. She cut the wire and tightened it quickly, then secured it to the fence post with a clip.

Now, it was my turn and it was a challenge to get my hands used to the tool. I crouched beside the sagging fence, gloves already slick with sweat even though the day was just beginning. Wyatt's words ran through my mind as I tried to mimic his movements, looping the smooth wire around the cut barbed ends. My fingers fumbled with the pliers. The wire was stiff, unyielding, and I could feel Miranda's gaze flicking my way as she worked on her section with ease.

"You got it, Holly," she said, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Yeah, totally," I muttered, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My first loop looked more like a lopsided pretzel.

Wyatt's shadow fell over me as he inspected my work. "Not bad," he said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

I blushed, fumbling for an excuse. "I'm usually really good with my hands—"

The words were out before I realized how they sounded. Miranda let out a sharp laugh, and Wyatt raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well," he said, deadpan, "let's see how good you are when you're two miles into the fenceline."

________________________

The day was stretching on, the sun climbing higher as the hours passed. The rhythm of working on the fence started to settle into my bones, the sound of the wire snapping tight and the clink of the tools blending into the quiet of the pastures. Miranda and I had fallen into a comfortable routine, each of us focused on our task but still sharing small glances or comments every now and then.

Miranda tightened the last wire on her section and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. "Do you ever feel like you're playing tug-of-war with the universe?" she asked, glancing over at Holly.

I laughed, wrestling with the wire that refused to stay put. "Pretty sure the universe is winning right now."

At one point, she wiped her brow with the back of her glove and let out a sigh. "This isn't so bad," she said, her voice carrying over the hum of the day. "I mean, I don't think I've ever worked this hard in my life, but it's kind of... peaceful. You know?"

I glanced over at her, surprised. "Yeah. It's not what I expected either. Thought it'd be a lot more, uh... tiring, but this part of it feels kind of good. Like I'm doing something that matters." I didn't say it out loud, but there was something satisfying about the simplicity of it all—the hard work, the immediate payoff, the quiet companionship.

Miranda nodded and then laughed softly. "I guess you've done this kind of thing before, huh? I mean, I'm just hoping I don't break something or mess it up."

I shrugged. "Says you! You're actually good at this. At the horse barn back home we never did anything like this. The pastures could have used it, but my boss never cared enough to fix them" I paused, considering my words. "Maybe I can use my new skills to help fix the pastures back home... If i ever go back to that barn that is."

She looked at me, her eyes wide in a way that made me realize she was genuinely listening. "Do you miss it? It sounds like you were at the barn for a while."

I smiled, wiping my hands on my jeans. "It's different. I mean, the land's not as open, and there's not as much sky. But there's something about being out here that feels right, even if I'm still figuring out how to do it all." I glanced over at her. "You? What's your story?"

Miranda took a deep breath, then let it out with a chuckle. "I grew up in the city. Wasn't really around much land or animals. This is all kind of new to me."

I nodded, understanding that feeling of being new. "That's a big change."

"Yeah. I thought I was just looking for something different, but I didn't expect to love it this much. I mean, I'm sore as hell, but... it's nice. Being out here."

I could see what she meant. It wasn't just the work; it was the way the land had a way of settling into you, the rhythm of it, the way everything felt connected. "It's nice when you stop and look at it like that," I said quietly. "The work doesn't seem so bad when you realize how much you're learning, right?"

Miranda smiled, her eyes catching the sunlight. "Yeah. I think I'm starting to get it. Thanks for showing me the ropes, Holly."

"No problem," I said, feeling a little warmer at the words. We both went back to our work, the conversation fading into the background as the fence came together under our hands.