Life at the ranch picked up the pace as my dream of peace and rest fell apart quickly, starting with the first big rain storm.

Every day after that was a futile exercise in keeping myself fed, clothed, and dry.

I couldn’t imagine how much the new roof I needed was going to cost. I’d stretched myself thin with the large down payment the bank had required. I would be in financial trouble fast if unexpected repairs started piling up.

When Tina took me into town again, I planned to buy corn for the chickens until I could grow things on my own. Until then, I’ll work on overturning the soil near the house, where I planned to put in a garden. Nothing grand to start with. Maybe a few tomato plants and cucumbers.

Before I could design the small garden came the final—and worst—surprise yet.

I ran out of water.

I turned on the faucet one morning and instead of the faint brownish water that I’d become accustomed to coming from the tap, a thick brown sludge plopped out, and then nothing.

The spigot outside in the yard produced the same results. As I stood staring at the useless spigot, wondering what to do, Mustang appeared for the tenth time out of thin air, standing frighteningly close to me. He stood beside me, staring down at the pipe jutting out from the ground without speaking.

“Don’t you have anything to say about that?” I asked him.

“Looks like your well has run dry,” he said calmly, as though he was talking about the price of lima beans at the store.

I blinked at the calm sound of his voice, completely unconcerned about the fact that I now had no water.

A basic necessity of life.

I felt like screaming at him although it wasn’t his fault. I wasn’t sure whose fault it was.

Without water I was done for.

Even someone as new as I was to this lifestyle knew that no water meant I couldn’t live out here. I might as well pack my bags and leave.

“Isn’t there a spring around here somewhere?” I asked naively, fully intending to carry water, if it came to that.

I wasn’t about to let the lack of modern conveniences stop me yet.

He shook his head.

“Nope. Not that I know of.”

“There’s no spring? No creek? Not even a pond?” I demanded, getting more and more panicked as I realized there was no source of water close by.

“There’s a river a few miles down.”

“A river? Great!”

“It’s a few miles that way,” he said and pointed to his right.

“I have to go there by myself?” I asked.

Can’t the man see I’m in a dire pickle here?

“You’re a grown woman. You’ll be fine. Be sure to take your rifle.”

“Why?”

“For the mountain lions.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

He gave me a look that immediately confirmed that he was not kidding.

“That’s the only way to get water? To walk to the river that is a few miles that way,” I said and motioned to the direction he had pointed, “at the risk of getting mauled by a mountain lion?”

“Yes.”

“This ranch is called ‘The Watering Hole!’ How can there be no water on a ranch that has the word ‘water’ in its name?”

My breath was coming faster and faster as this final blow to my plans for the ranch hit home.

“There’s plenty of water here. It’s-”

“Down that way, I know. You said that already.”

“There used to be a watering hole,” he said. “A long time ago. Now it’s just a mud puddle. That’s why the previous guy had a well dug. It’s dried up now, so you’ll have to dig another one.”

“Dig?” I asked. “You don’t mean me personally?”

I turned to look at him, taking in another glorious glimpse of his deeply tanned skin, the rugged and somewhat scary tattoos, and dark, soulful eyes.

“I’m pretty new at this, but even I know that a well goes really far down, like fifty feet or sometimes more. I don’t have a way to dig a well.”

“You’ll have to find someone to do it then,” he said and then walked away.

“Wait up a second!” I called, tired of his disappearing act. “Isn’t there someone nearby who can do this? And a roofer too, while I’m thinking of it? I could really use a handyman around here.”

He stopped and answered me without turning around.

“Ask in town for a guy to do your well. And I can fix the roof. It won’t be free though.”

Then he kept walking, like always without a backwards glance, to wherever the hell he goes.

When Tina finally came to check on me at the end of the week, I had more questions for her about the caretaker than I did about working my own ranch.

I didn’t ask them right away, as pressing needs like shelter and water took over as priorities.

Tina gave me the names of some people we could call once we made it to town. Unfortunately, they ruined my good day with the news that digging a well was easily a few thousand dollars, as was putting on a roof.

“Mustang offered to do the labor on the roof,” I told Tina. “What do you think?”

“Then you should let him,” she said. “That’s a good offer.”

“I don’t know,” I said, hinting that I had some questions about Mustang. “How well do you know him?”

“Hmm, not very well,” she said. “I only used to see him from time to time and that was before the former owner died.”

“He was at the ranch before the previous owner died? For some reason, I thought he was hired as a caretaker afterwards.”

 “No, he knew the previous owner,” she replied. “A few people in town think Mustang may have had something to do with the old man’s death, if you know what I mean.”

She glanced over at me knowingly.

“Are you serious? Why?” I asked, suddenly afraid as I remembered all the times that Mustang had appeared as though silently stalking his prey.

Mustang made me uncomfortable.

I’m not sure if that was because of his oddness or his overpowering masculinity that I couldn’t help but notice every time he came near me.

“Promise you won’t tell a soul,” Tina began as she looked around to make sure no one was listening to us.

“I swear.”

“You promise?” she asked, her eyes getting very wide as she dropped her voice to a near whisper.

“I promise,” I answered, leaning closer.

Concern had already spread over my face.

“I’m just teasing,” Tina said with a loud laugh at my expense. “You should see your face. The old man had cancer, they just found it too late because he didn’t go to the doctor regularly. I was only joking!” She laughed in a good-natured way, then realized she’d upset me. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was only playing with you. I didn’t realize you would take me seriously. Mustang is harmless, really. As far as I know. He’s just...quirky. And a little weird. More than a little, if I’m being honest.”

“What exactly do you mean by quirky? My mama was quirky, and she’d shoot you for touching her remote control.”

I was still stinging from falling victim to Tina’s joke.

“You know, little things he does. Unique Mustang kind of odd things.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I have a few ideas about that guy, but I’ve never heard the term ‘Mustang things’ before.”

“Well, you know...like how he won’t go inside the house. Ever.”

I raised my eyebrows, having never noticed that about him, then remembering the way Mr. Munroe had talked about it. I’d dismissed it at the time.

“Try it if you don’t believe me,” Tina continued. “Next time you see him, invite him inside. Or better yet, ask him to reach something down for you that is located inside. He won’t do it, I swear. Not under any circumstances.”

“Wow, I never paid attention, but now that you mention it, I’ve never even seen him come up on the porch. But what about his own house? He lives somewhere else on the property, right?”

“Oh yeah, he lives out there on the ranch somewhere. He doesn’t live inside. Your house, your barn, and anything right there on your plot are the only buildings on the site. He might go into one of the caves, I guess, if it gets too cold. I know that he stays outside even in the rain. We’ve seen him over on our place from time to time, soaking wet and walking along like it’s just any other sunny day. The weather doesn’t faze him at all.”

I wrinkled my forehead, worrying over what I was hearing about the strange guy who was state-appointed to live on my property.

He couldn’t be dangerous, could he?

I couldn’t help the thought that crossed my mind.

After all, he’d taken a minute to teach me to shoot. Why would he do that if he had plans to hurt me? And he did offer to patch my roof for me. If he wanted me gone, he’d just let it cave in over my head.

“And you know,” Tina said, smiling slyly, “he’s not so bad to look at either. I don’t know how he keeps that six pack as toned as it is, but it must involve ripping tree trunks out of the ground and doing reps with them. Personally, I would love to get my hands on those biceps of his. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.”

“I haven’t,” I said, hoping Tina couldn’t see through my lie.

The truth was I thought of Mustang quite a bit lately, especially at night when I was alone in my house. Tina hit the nail on the head when she said Mustang was sexy and good looking.

It had surprised me that I felt that way, since Mustang was the first tattooed man I’d ever really thought of as sexy. Usually I liked a clean cut, suit-wearing city man, with a wide vocabulary and the same interests as me.

Something about Mustang’s raw sexuality grabbed me and wouldn’t let go.

“Where do you want to go first?” Tina asked.

“What?” I replied, interrupting my thoughts of Mustang and his interesting tattoos.

“Still thinking about those biceps, aren’t you?” she joked.

We arrived at the first of several stores and I bought my supplies. Now that I’d been living there a couple of weeks I had a better idea of what to expect.

I managed to get a few names of reputable people who could help with my water well situation. Afterwards, we went to the hardware store to get an idea of how much to budget for my roofing materials.

The two projects were more than I’d bargained for, and I was glad the real estate agent in Seattle had emailed me telling me she’d had two offers on the condo already. I would be needing cash soon to buy the materials for the roof and to pay Mustang a reasonable fee.

I wondered if he’d charge double to work with his shirt off? It would be worth it.

The thought suddenly slipped into my mind. My cheeks turned warm and I looked around to see if Tina caught my guilty look.

As guilty as it might make me feel, it was true. His worn t-shirts and jeans barely concealed the tight muscles I knew were hidden underneath.

I managed to finish my errands without any more inappropriate thoughts about Mustang, deciding the best time for those images was when I was alone.

 

***

 

It was another three days before I had a chance to test Tina’s theory about Mustang.

He appeared out of nowhere when the team came to dig the well, watching them carefully as they backed up an enormous truck with what looked like the world’s largest drill bit on the back.

Mustang stood by and didn’t interfere, only glared with his enormous arms crossed in front of his chest in a way that made his biceps appear huge.

He looks like he’s standing watch while they dig, I thought.

What right did he have to show up on my property whenever he pleased?

Ignoring me completely while I tried to place pots under leaks in the roof, then standing there practically supervising the professional crew doing the digging?

Oh, right. He’s the caretaker of the ranch.

He needs to make sure they don’t do any additional damage.

Whatever issues made him “quirky,” as Tina had called him, at least he was doing his job. I found my attitude toward him softening a bit.

I wandered out to join the men.

“How are things coming along with the roof?” I asked Mustang when none of the men acknowledged me.