“What the hell are you doing up there, woman?” Sam demanded. Chloe started and turned too quickly, had to re-balance herself before she could find the source of her latest irritation. Once she was well balanced again, she turned, more slowly, to look down at Sam. Even from up above, that man looked huge, she thought grouchily. “I’m making toast,” she said, then turned back to pick up the next shingle, sliding it into place before picking up the hammer once again. Her fingers ached and she could barely lift the damn thing, but she refused to let him see how much she hurt. “Get down, right now!” She lifted the hammer and slammed it down, barely hitting the head of the nail but glad that she hadn’t totally missed it this time. “Sam, you’re on my dad’s property. You can’t tell me what to do.” “Why don’t you have an air gun? And why are you re-building this old thing in the first place? I told you the horses could stay with me for as long as you needed.”
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