You groaned, wiping your forehead as you forked another lump of horse droppings into the wheelbarrow.

Working at another families ranch wasn’t all that fun, but you had to earn you and your fathers keep somehow.

“Looks great.” Jack, Mr Marston’s - the owner of this ranch - son walked through the barn doors, looking around. “Need any help?” Jack picked up a shovel, leaning back against a wall as he looked you up and down - trying to figure out what sort of girl you are.