Author's Notes: This was written as an early birthday present for Roar and a Get Well Soon present for Tilley. Love to both.

No ownership of anything except the OCs. Please don't sue.

The summer job at his uncle's dude ranch was less like a job and more like an extended vacation, out from under his parents' watchful eyes. Marshall didn't mind the sun, the hard work, and the constant flow of guests. It was an excuse to be outside in the fresh air, under the sapphire skies, and among the cottonwoods of his childhood. The fact that she was here didn't hurt the cause either.

'She' was Annie, who was on the ranch against her will-or so he suspected. Shipped out from her home on the East Coast to spend the summer with her aunt, who happened to be the ranch cook who kept them all fed, Annie Klesmar had him tied up in knots. Long hair that reminded him of a chestnut roan, blue eyes the color of an old work shirt, her full lips had kept him up at night since her arrival three days ago. He'd saddled up her horse daily and found himself entranced by her soft skin and a sprinkling of freckles that had him wondering about their flavor on his tongue.

She looked sad, like she'd packed her happiness in her checked luggage and it managed to get lost in transit. Every day was the same routine, she was up at breakfast, gone after the dishes were done and gone for several hours with a backpack and a sack lunch packed by her aunt. She didn't say much, and he lived for every murmured word, even if it was only a 'thank you' as he handed off the reins to her horse.

It wasn't normal for him to think like this, but then, nothing about his reaction to her was normal. From the first moment he'd seen her, his mouth had gone dry and all that moisture had run out of him in the form of sweaty palms. He'd thought of trying to get her attention, but everything always occurred to him as he watched her back retreating from the barn, on the back of a horse named Serenity, bound for god knows where and due back at dinnertime.

/\/\/\

The sky was bluer here, like the cobalt Depression glass that her mother collected. She rode out on Serenity, a horse she hoped would live up to its name, into the foothills and camped out with a romance novel she'd smuggled out of her Aunt Pauline's vast collection and the snacks her aunt had packed for her. Annie felt kind of bad about her attitude towards her current situation, as it wasn't her aunt's fault that she was here, in the middle of the desert while all her friends got to go to the Hamptons for the season. Her parents thought it would be good for her to get away from her friends, ever since Juliette, a girl in her class, managed to get herself knocked up by a boy from public school. Like she even had the time for boys between all her classes, extracurriculars and volunteer work. That admission to Bryn Mawr wasn't going to make itself, after all.

The one bonus had been the young ranch hand who saddled up Serenity every day for her. In the requisite cowboy hat, dark-haired and tall, with a rangy, but muscular frame and a shy smile that made her stomach flutter when he gave it to her. His eyes were the same color as the sky, and she thought of them often as she sat in the quiet and enjoyed the peace and relative shade of the stand of cottonwood trees next to the pond.

Every evening, she'd return from the desert breezes and the warmth of the sunshine to help her aunt make dinner for the guests and the staff. She didn't have a whole lot to say during the meal, feeling completely out of place with the adults on the staff, and the only person close to her age made her stomach tremble and her pulse race as he passed her the mashed potatoes.

It didn't seem like he had much to say, either, and every time she looked over at him, he pointedly looked elsewhere, engrossed in his plate, and a cute flush spreading over his tanned cheeks. Still, she couldn't figure out how to talk to him.

The nights were the hardest; the stars outside her window in the cook's quarters of the main lodge seemed to stretch on in endlessly new configurations she'd only seen in books and never in person. The diamond-studded velvet vastness made her feel so small and insignificant, not that she needed help in that department. Her parents shuffled her off as often as possible, and she was well-used to her role as a footnote in their lives. So much so, she expected nothing more, from them or anyone else, really. Still, the stars gave her hope that maybe she wasn't alone as she thought, or maybe that was just the romance novels talking. She laughed at her melodramatic melancholia and turned out the lights. Tomorrow was another day, after all.

/\/\/\

Marshall sat in his room, really his older cousin's old room that had been converted into a guest room after he'd left for the Marine Corps, and stared out at the comforting array of stars. He could see the patterns of the constellations, his mind automatically filling in their names and stories. The well-worn tales from history were not the only lights that garnered his nightly attentions, however. He could see the lights on in the cooks quarter's from his bedroom window, and knew, even though he couldn't see her, that she was still up, too. Maybe staring out at the same stars. He wondered about her, what she saw when she gazed up at them, if they entranced her the way she entranced him, just by breathing.

He saw her books, the ones she tried to hide in her backpack when she left in the mornings. Novels of love and romance, possibly steamy sex, he blushed-like he did often around her-his mind tripping back to his bedroom at home and his brother's copy of the Tropic of Cancer hidden in his box spring. Still, he couldn't find a way to talk to her, terrified of saying the wrong thing or sounding stupid or worse, like a geek, which was his default setting.

His family tolerated it, he was blood and they found it endearing, at least they seemed to, but girls…. His brothers had tried to teach him how to be smooth, only to pronounce him a hopeless case. His ego wasn't bruised, even if he secretly suspected it to be the truth, and he just wasn't willing to risk it on a girl as beautiful as Annie. He turned off his light, settling in because dawn came early, and though his thoughts swirled around red-headed girls with lapis-colored eyes, he drifted off to sleep peacefully.

/\/\/\

The weekend of July 4th was a big deal at the ranch; they were planning on heading into town for a community pitch-in on the plaza, fireworks, and some music and dancing well into the night. The best part for Annie, however, was that her parents were coming to visit. If they saw how much she missed the East Coast, maybe, just maybe, they'd cut short her exile and take her back with them so she could finish out the season with her friends on the beach.

Then the letter came and she knew even without opening it what it said. It came in the morning mail delivery, with the bills and ads and other things nobody wanted. The pain that cut through her, at merely touching the envelope was more than she could bear. She took off out of the kitchen, immune to her aunt's calls after her, and headed straight for the barn. Of course Marshall was there, she grimaced, trying her best to hold in the pain that was bulging and swelling to the point of practically bleeding out of her. He saddled up her horse without comment, though she could see the questions multiplying in his eyes as he watched her pace. He'd barely finished cinching on the saddle and checking the stirrups before she was on and gone, driving Serenity at a good clip out of the barn and corral and down the path into the hills.

Away, just needed to get away, and she couldn't take his kindness without shattering into a million pieces. He didn't need see that, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to put it back together if he did.

/\/\/\

Marshall removed his hat and dusted it against his knee as he thought about what just happened. Annie looked like her mother and dog had just been killed in front of her as she'd fled out of the barn. He'd saddled up the horse as quick as he could for her, terrified that she was going to unravel on him right there, and completely unprepared to cope with that possibility. Hell, he could barely talk to her now, and tears would only make the situation worse, as far as he was concerned.

"Annie!" Pauline, the cook, with her dark hair coming loose from her ponytail, barreling through the door to the barn startled him from his thoughts.

He shoved his hat back onto his head as he turned to face her. She'd worked on the ranch for as long as he could remember, and was as close to being family as his own family was. "Miss Pauline, may I help you?"

She looked from the open barn doors to his face; lines of worry making her look older than she really was. Tugging at the hem of her blue and white checked shirt with one hand, she held out the small paper sack in her other hand. "She left her lunch on the counter."

Marshall raised an eyebrow and walked over to the stall where his horse Bellerophon was quietly munching and enjoying his breakfast. "Okay. If you don't mind my saying so, Miss Pauline, you look a little more worried than a disregarded lunch might merit."

Her blue eyes narrowed for a moment as she regarded him before a dimple cut into her cheek. "I do mind you sayin' so, Marshall, but you're not wrong. She got a letter from her momma today. I can probably tell you what it said, poor girl. I don't blame her for being upset. I just don't want her to go hungry."

"I can take it out to her if you want." The words were past his lips before he even finished the thought, and he had to fight the urge to reach out and physically try to reclaim them. Instead he pulled down his saddle and began to ready his horse for the ride. He had no idea where to look for her, but he'd been on the ranch long enough to have a decent list of places to check. It was the least he could do.

Pauline's face lit up immediately at his suggestion. "Oh, would you? You're such a sweet boy, Marshall, even if you are a bit fresh. Thank you." She watched him slip the bridle over Bellerophon's head and then swing his long legs up over the saddle to settle into place. Tucking the brown paper sack into the saddlebag, she patted him on the thigh. "I really am grateful for this."

Marshall nodded and guided his horse out of the barn and into the corral. "Don't worry. I'll be back in a couple hours."

Pauline nodded and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Take your time, just be back by dinner."

He pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt briefly as he mulled over her words. He wasn't usually one to just eschew his chores in favor of something more fun, but in this case… He was doing her a favor, he rationalized, and it would take as long as it took, so he could still conceivably get back in time for his chores. "Just give me a couple hours." He touched the brim of his hat before he and his horse began their journey down the path.

The sun was relentless on his shoulders, and he wished that he'd thought to put on some sunscreen before he threw on his favorite green t-shirt, but was glad for his cowboy hat. The clouds were slithering up from the south, thick fingers of steel grey that promised heavy rain in the next couple hours, but would clear out quickly, leaving the night cooler and the sky sparklingly clear. That didn't do a lot for him now, however, as he felt the burn starting to spread from his shoulders down his back.

The nice thing about riding out on the ranch was the scenery: the dried creosote rolling in the breeze that was starting to pick up, the juniper bushes darkening as the summer wore on, and the cottonwoods. They stood like a symbol of constancy in a world of change, a mute reminder that though the landscape may change around him, there was dignity in remaining true to himself. He sighed deep enough to lift his shoulders as he looked around him.

No sign of Annie, though he'd only gone a couple miles down the path. He didn't think she'd stray, since she wasn't really familiar with the surroundings, but there wasn't a whole lot to see out here that wasn't brown or brownish green. She didn't strike him as the kind of girl who would take well to the desert, given her pale complexion and her overall hesitancy to interact with anyone around her. Surely she wasn't as shy as he was, that was a borderline clinical diagnosis, and possibly a terminal one at that.

As he and his horse made their way into the foothills, the wind picked up further, cooling him off as the sun started taking curtain calls behind the clouds. Marshall heard the ravens, corvus sinuatus, Western ravens that sounded like crows who'd been smoking unfiltered cigarettes since early childhood, chattering and carrying on from their perches among the rocks. Something had them talking, and it probably wasn't him. He was headed in the right direction.

It wasn't long until he came to the spring, a tiny little oasis in the foothills above the ranch. It fed the pond and kept the ranch in water, provided it had rained enough the season before. He saw Serenity first, riderless, standing at the edge of the pond and drinking to her heart's content. Annie couldn't be far.

Marshall left Bellerophon with his sister at the edge of the pond as he dismounted, and took the sack lunch from the saddlebag to take it to its owner. He didn't have to look far, finding the largest tree in the area and seeing that Annie was sitting on the ground beneath it.

She turned as soon as she heard his footfalls on the dry earth and scrambled to her feet. The trails on her cheeks from her tears shimmered in the fading sunlight and he felt a pain in his chest. "I brought this for you." It was the first full sentence he'd spoken to her, he realized as he thrust the brown paper sack between them, and it sounded dumb.

Annie blinked as she looked from his face to the proffered lunch and back. "Thanks." She took the lunch and set it on the ground next to her open letter and her book.

He pushed his hat up on his head and looked at her seriously. "Your aunt seemed concerned about you."

Her expression fell as she looked at the sack lunch by her feet. "At least somebody cares about me," she muttered as she retook her seat on the ground beneath the tree.

With a look over at the horses to make sure they were staying put, he sat on the ground beside her. "What's that mean?"

Annie gestured with her chin at the cream-colored paper on the ground next to her. Heavy paper with a flawless tri-fold, it looked and felt more like he assumed a legal document would as opposed to correspondence from home. He was surprised to find it handwritten. After a perfunctory greeting and a check of her welfare, the letter launched into a half-hearted apology as to why her parents would not be coming down to visit her for the Fourth of July, and how lovely and patriotic it will be for them to spend the weekend in Philadelphia instead with the Anspaughs, of the Philadelphia and Boston Anspaughs, with whom her father was trying to broker a deal anyway. Synchronicity at its finest. The whole missive was put forth like a business deal, and it was understood that she would be okay with it, because that was how things would be, regardless of her opinion. The unhappiness he had observed from her suddenly made sense, but that realization only made him feel worse for her. "I'm sorry."

Annie wrinkled her nose as she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Don't be. I don't know why I expected anything else from them. God forbid they take an interest in their only child."

The urge to touch her, just to comfort her, was starting to choke him as he restrained himself. He set the letter back on the ground where he'd gotten it. "I'm sure they have a good reason. I can't see why anyone would just abruptly choose to not come visit their child even though they promised."

She dropped her forehead to her knees. "Then you obviously don't know Ted and Alize. My birth was the very last thing they did on purpose with regards to me. I'm not even sure they meant to conceive me and they sure as hell don't plan on doing else until I leave the house." He heard her sniffle and scooted closer to her. The wind was picking up stray strands of her hair and attempting to carry them off with it. "I just want to be more than someone's afterthought. Is that so much to ask?"

Marshall's arm was around her shoulders before she could even sniffle again. He pulled her close to him, because he couldn't let her sit there and think she was alone in her suffering. She looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming in fresh tears, and he brushed one away as it broke free and ran down her cheek. "You are more than just an afterthought to me." It sounded like a line, and like he might have gone crazy from sunstroke, but he needed her to know how he felt. She was his first thought in the morning and his last before sleep. It was the least he could do for her.

Annie gave him a shaky smile that only held up for a moment before she broke his gaze and looked down at her knees again. "Thanks," she whispered, but there was no conviction behind it.

Acting on instinct, because this was well out of his realm of experience with girls, he hooked a finger under her chin and turned her head to face him again. "I meant that," he murmured, the emotions making his voice deeper, thicker. "You are a lot more than that to me."

She gave him a wry smile as she bumped his shoulder with hers. "You don't even know me. I think this is the first time we've said more than three words to each other."

He had to give it to her, she wasn't wrong, but he was trying to make a point. "I just mean that I think of you. Every day, even before I see you. I think about what I want to say to you." Her eyes widened and he quickly played back what he'd just said to her in his mind. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the tree, his arm still draped around her shoulders. "I sound like some kind of psycho stalker, don't I? Sorry."

He felt her move closer, turning into him, her cool fingertips on his cheek bringing his eyes back to hers. She wasn't crying anymore. "It's okay," she whispered as she looked from his eyes to his lips, "I think about you, too."

Marshall wet his lips with his tongue, watching her eyes follow the movement, and he closed the last scant inches between them to press his mouth to hers. She stiffened in his arms for a moment at the contact before melting against him. Her fingertips slid down his jaw, his neck, to his chest, as his other arm wrapped around her waist to cuddle her closer.

She was so soft, her skin warmed from the sun, her lips moving over his with an eagerness that rivaled his own. His head filled with the scent of wild lilacs, and the soft little gasps as his fingers flexed against the thin material of her t-shirt stretched across her lower back were driving him out of his mind. This was better than any late-night fantasy he could have dreamed up, and he'd had more than a couple.

The broke apart briefly to rearrange themselves, with her sitting on his lap and his hands in her hair as he nibble and nipped at her lips before he tasted her with his tongue for the first time.

/\/\/\

Annie's first kiss had been on a field trip to the Museum of Modern Art in the fifth grade. A messy, slobbery affair that had ended with her blackening the boy's eye for trying to feel her up while he attempted to palpate her tonsils with his tongue; it almost put her off the whole boy-kissing business.

The way Marshall kissed her, though… she could barely catch her breath. He was tender, and he held deathly still as if he were afraid of scaring her off. One hand slid from her hair down her back and held her closer to him, but that was all. She felt… cherished, wanted, and so, she kissed him back.

His heart hammered beneath her hand as the kiss deepened and his strangled sigh as her tongue ventured into his mouth made her shudder. Pulling back, she watched him open his eyes lazily, the comforting blue darkened to almost black, and he gave her a crooked smile. She lay her head on his shoulder, his arms settling comfortably around her as the sun gave up its pretense and settled behind the thickening gloom.

With the wind picking up, she brushed her lips against his jaw, enjoying the way he shifted beneath her as his breath caught. "We should probably head back."

He put a hand on his head to keep his hat in place as he looked up to examine the sky. "Yeah," he nodded, though he didn't release her, "storm'll be here in under an hour. We might make it under the wire and not get drenched."

When he showed neither a desire nor inclination to move, she said, "So we should go now, right?" Not that she was in a hurry to leave his embrace, but the prospect of being wet on a horse and out in a thunderstorm was less than appealing.

He heaved a great sigh that ended in a harrumph as he looked down to give her a pout. "Yeah, I guess. I'll go get the horses." He loosened his arms around her and she stood, her legs still wobbly from the effects of the kiss. Marshall clambered to his feet and ambled over to where the horses had gone to graze, after a long assessing look at her.

Annie wasn't really sure how she felt as she gathered up her letter, book, and untouched lunch. She liked kissing him-a lot-and wanted to do more, but she wasn't sure if it was just them caught up in the moment or something more. As he returned with their horses in tow, he gave her a shy smile, and offered her his hand. At her look of confusion, he reached for her sack lunch and book. "I'll take care of those."

"Oh." She handed them over, and felt her cheeks heat in the cooling wind. "Thank you, by the way." Taking a step closer to him, she laid a hand on his arm.

Marshall stilled instantly, and slid her a cautious, sidelong glance that started at her hand and finally came to rest on her face. "For…?"

So many things. Right place, right time, right words, right… everything. "Being you." He was close enough that all she had to do was lean up and they were kissing again. Still just as tender, he cupped her face and tilted her chin up for a better angle.

He stepped back a bit to search her eyes, for what, she could only imagine. "So then you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because I kissed you. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time now." Dropping his hands, he stepped over to Bellerophon. He kicked the dirt in front of him and he stared at his feet. "I was planning on asking you to the pot luck dinner on Saturday, if you wanted."

The grin that started with his admission of his crush on her gained full strength at his request for a date. "I wanted to kiss you, too. And as for dinner," she braced one foot in the stirrup and mounted Serenity, "absolutely."

Marshall climbed aboard his horse and guided him back towards the path with a grin that threatened to be permanent. "Good deal." He shielded his eyes with his hand as he looked up at the sky. "If we move it, we should make it back to the ranch before the rain gets here."

Annie thought about it and then slapped her horse on the ass. "Then you better catch me."

/\/\/\

The six weeks until she went back to New York passed far too quickly for Marshall's tastes. They spent every free moment together, which was great, though he had a theory that his aunt and hers were conspiring to make that happen. He suddenly had a lot more free time than he'd been used to, but he wasn't complaining.

He'd finally gotten the girl. The idea still boggled his mind. From the first kiss, to the night before in the hayloft where they'd found a perch for stargazing as well as other more intimate pursuits. They'd found wonderment and pleasure in each other's company, though they remained aware of divergent futures. He'd gotten the girl, and now he had to let her go. She'd be on a plane in four hours, but he had something he needed to show her first.

"You know this whole blindfold thing is freaking me out, right?" She wriggled impatiently in front of him, astride Bellerophon's back. One of the perks of free time was that he'd taught her how to ride bareback and taught her how to ride double with him.

"And if you keep moving like that," he dipped his head to press a quick kiss to her neck below her ear, "we're going to have many more problems than just you being freaked out. We're almost there."

She shivered delicately in his arms, not helping his situation at all. "Not comforting."

He snorted and pulled the reins back to halt the horse's progress. "We're here." He dismounted and then reached up to help her onto the ground. They were in the stand of cottonwoods by the pond where they'd first kissed. He only hoped that she'd appreciate his gesture.

Marshall led her over to the tree and whipped off the blindfold with a flourish. Annie blinked and then cast her eyes about warily. They finally settled on the tree, and he held his breath as he awaited her reaction. He'd carved, into the trunk of the tree they'd sat under so long ago, a heart, with a few embellishments and their initials. Nothing huge or grand, just something for them.

A slow smile spread over her lips, like the fingers of sunlight cresting the eastern horizon, and she laced her fingers with his, palm to palm. With her other hand, she traced the edges of the heart and the filigree that had taken him the better part of an hour on the day she and her aunt had gone to the market for the week's food.

The uncertainty must have shown on his face, because when she looked at to him, her smile widened. With a quick tug, he was next to her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. He hugged her close, smelling her shampoo and perfume, trying to imprint as much to his memory as possible. "I'm gonna miss you." He didn't mean to say it first, but the words came tumbling past his lips before he could stop them.

She nodded and sniffled. "I'm gonna miss you, too."

He wanted to kiss her, tell her all the things he knew were not appropriate considering their circumstances, and extract promises he had no business wanting from her. Instead, he just held her close, enjoying her softness in his arms, and knowing that, for now, they had each other, and that was enough.