"Whatever that fence post did to you, it sure is sorry now."
The deep voice that came from behind me was such a surprise that I hit my thumb with the hammer. I was a mile from the house when I’d decided to work out some of my frustrations on the fence. The post had had a loose nail and I'd begun to pound it in, continuing to strike even after it was lodged back in the wood. I was still hammering when he caught me unawares.
I sucked in a breath at the searing pain in the tip of my thumb, holding the base of it in my other hand. I let a few less-than-ladylike words slip out as I winced, walking around in a circle.
"Chance Goodman!" I shouted, my anger and pain loud and clear. "You don't sneak up on someone like that."
The man was ten years older than I and lived on the nearest ranch. His
