Katrina sucked in a few breaths. “There’s a well up here?”

Reed pointed north along the ridgeline. “It pumps into a pond around the bend. The cattle like it up here in late summer. This meadow catches the prevailing wind and that keeps the bugs down. But if there’s no water source, they have to trek all the way back to the river.”

“See that, you are a nice guy.”

“I’m a practical guy.” His gazed scanned her. “You doing okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

“Your ankle?”

“Almost better.”

“Okay.” He started along the uneven ridge, quickly outpacing her and drawing away.

If she’d hoped to engage him in a conversation, it wasn’t going to work out. Reed was obviously determined to keep her at a distance. Not that she knew what to say. Just getting him alone had proven so difficult she hadn’t formulated much of a plan beyond that.

After hiking for nearly an hour, they came to a muddy-bottomed pond beneath a twenty-foot windmill tower. The wind had picked up, and the whirring, clunking noise of the windmill made conversation difficult.

Reed set down the toolbox and began inspecting the arms that connected the pump to the windmill. A complex series of tubes and connections ran between the two. After a few moments, he selected a wrench and pulled hard on what seemed to be a stubborn bolt. It broke free, and he disconnected the mechanism.

Now that Katrina was standing still, she began to cool off. It didn’t help that the sun had disappeared behind a thick layer of cloud; they were completely exposed to the wind here on the ridge. She had to fight off the odd mosquito, but she didn’t dare complain. Instead, she gritted her teeth while Reed worked his way through whatever problem he’d discovered.

When the rain started, Reed swore.

He turned to look at Katrina, then he did a double take. “Are you cold?”