“What else can I do?” He stepped in front of Shane and clapped his leather gloves together. He’d spent the morning pulling barbed wire tight while Dylan hammered the spikes into their new spots in the wood fence posts. His shoulders and arms ached, but he’d take the physical pain over thinking about May. Then he’d taken a job in the hayloft that afternoon, which had aggravated his slight allergies. That was all the sniffing was. He wasn’t a breath away from emotional ruin. No sirree. Not Kurt Pemberton, part-time foreman and full-time single cowboy.
“Why are you still here?” Shane looked at him with a squint in his eye. “Shouldn’t you be done by now?”
“Nope.” Kurt clenched his jaw, hoping Shane would let this go.
“Well, I don’t have anything else for you. So I guess you can have the res
