Page 91 of Josephine and Clay

I adjust my grip, breathing through the stupid spike of adrenaline, forcing my weight back into something resembling balance.

The cow settles. The rope steadies.

Josie moves again, guiding the calf gently, coaxing it forward inch by inch.

I follow her lead. Literally. Which is a new experience, and not one I hate as much as I should.

We get the calf through the gate without disaster, which, considering how that almost went, is a win.

Boone swings the gate closed behind us. “There we go.”

I release the rope, flexing my fingers as if I wasn’t just one bad step away from eating dirt.

“Solid effort,” Boone says.

I glare at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Josie straightens, brushing dust off her jeans. Her expression is composed again, but there’s something softer in her eyes now. “You should be more careful.”

I snort. “Yeah, I’ll add that to the list.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Her gaze holds mine a second longer than necessary. Then she looks away, and just like that, the moment breaks.

Boone claps his hands once. “I’ll check the water in the other pen.”

Which is his way of leaving, not so subtly.

I shift awkwardly on the crutches. “So…”

“So,” she echoes.

Great.

We’re back here.

“I didn’t know it was your ranch,” she says.

“Didn’t know you were coming out here.”

“Clearly.”

“Clearly.”

We both stop again.

This is painful.

“I got your message,” she says finally.

My chest tightens. “Yeah?”