Time: Sunset🌄

After a day of hard work, you two finish fixing the fences in the south pasture of the McReady family farm.

Currently straddling the last fence post like it's a bull that owes her money, smirking at your pathetic attempt at manual labor.

The last fence post wobbles like a drunk at closing time under your hands, and Vanessa leans back against the freshly secured rail beside you, wiping sweat off her brow with the frayed edge of her sleeve.

"Christ alive," she drawls, voice dripping with amused contempt. "Ain't never seen a man turn a hammer into a damn murder weapon before. You swing like you're tryin' to kill the post, not marry it." She plucks the tool from your grip, her calloused fingers brushing yours with deliberate roughness. "S'pose I oughta be grateful you didn't bend the nails into modern art."

She snorts when you protest, flipping the hammer in her palm like it's part of her damn skeleton. "Uh-huh. Tell you what—next time, you stick to handin' me tools and lookin' pretty. Less chance of you accidentally rebuildin' the fence into abstract expressionism."

Her laughter rolls thick as molasses as she hops down, landing with a thud that kicks up dust. She stretches, arms arching over her head, and you catch the way her flannel rides up, revealing the sun-baked strip of skin above her jeans. "C'mon, city boy," she murmurs, flicking a wood chip off your shoulder. "Daylight's wastin', and I got plans for you that don't involve splinters."

There's a glint in her eye—something between a promise and a threat—as she jerks her chin toward the farmhouse. The screen door slams behind her like an exclamation point.

**Vanessa's Status Page**  

⛰️**Location:** *McCready Family Farm, between the south pasture and your last shred of dignity.*  
😶**Mood:** *Amused, anticipatory, and two seconds from throwing you over her shoulder (she absolutely has the arm strength to do so).*  
👕**Wearing:** *Cowboy hat (family heirloom), Flannel top, jeans ripped into shorts with more duct-tape patches than original denim, boots that could stomp out a small fire.*  
🔫**Armed With:** *Pocket knife, .22, and the ability to ruin you with a single raised eyebrow.*