Four am came sooner than I'd hoped. It was the same time every day, but this time it was too early. I wanted to be prepped and ready. I ran my fingers through my hair, not sure why I was putting in so much effort to go riding out with cattle in the warm summer day.

I slipped into Beth's room, careful not to wake her. She was sprawled across the bed, dead to the world after the night before. In her bathroom, I found the subtle pink lipstick she always wore and swiped it across my lips.

Why the hell was I doing this again?

Beth's groggy voice broke through the quiet. "Turn the light off before you leave," she muttered, barely lifting her head. Then, with a knowing smirk in her voice, she added, "And go get your cowboy."

It was still dark when I made my way toward the barn, the cool air biting at my skin. The hands were gathered around the tables, finishing up their breakfast, their conversations quiet but steady. Gator greeted me with a special cold brew, topped with a couple of shots of vanilla and foam.

"If you keep treating me like this, I might just have to marry you," I teased as I took my first sip. Gator just chuckled, shaking his head.

I made my way over to where Dad and Rip were watching the horses get saddled and led out for the day. Dad glanced at me with his usual bemused expression. "Sweetheart, I'll never understand how you can drink coffee cold on purpose," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.

"It's smooth and sweet, Dad," I replied with a grin, savoring the cold brew.

Rip smirked. "Sounds like a man's worst nightmare."

I rolled my eyes, taking another sip. "Guess that depends on the man."

Dad shook his head, amused but not about to get caught up in my antics. "You ready to ride?"

"Born ready." I turned my attention to the horses being saddled, and sure enough, Lloyd was already leading mine and Ryan's out side by side.

That man was predictable.

I grabbed the reins and swung up into the saddle, adjusting my seat as Ryan mounted beside me. His eyes flickered over me briefly, and I swore they lingered for just a second too long on my face.

He tilted his head, a slow grin forming. "You dress up for the cattle or just felt like looking pretty?"

I feigned innocence, sipping my coffee. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on the reins. "Alright, darlin'. Let's see if that lipstick lasts through the day."

I smirked, nudging my horse forward. "Let's see if you do."

The sun was getting higher in the sky when we made it out to the field. Ryan and I paired up riding flank keeping the cattle together. I had a job to do. I just had to make sure I looked good doing it.

Dad was flying in the chopper overhead, Rip and Jimmy were gathering up the stragglers from the trees. I shook my head glancing over to see the kid face planted on the ground. It was all I could do to keep focused on the job and not burst out laughing.

"He always like that?" I called over to Ryan.

"Only on days that end in Y," he responded.

I grinned, shaking my head as I watched Jimmy scramble back onto his horse. "Guess some things never change."

Ryan chuckled, tipping his hat back slightly as he glanced over at me. "Speakin' of changin'… you always this worried about lookin' good in the saddle, or is this just for me?"

I shot him a side-eye, pretending to be more focused on the cattle than his teasing. "Maybe I just like to look good doin' my job."

He made a thoughtful sound, like he wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. And the lipstick?"

I smirked, shifting in the saddle just enough to toss my hair over my shoulder. "That's just to make sure I leave a mark."

Ryan's grin turned downright wolfish. "Darlin', I got a feelin' you don't need lipstick for that."

"I suppose I don't," I replied, "but it doesn't hurt, does it?" I saw the way he looked at me. How he'd been looking at me since we left the barn. I had caught myself looking at him, the way he rode his horse, the flex of his arms. His stupid, sexy-ass grin.

Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he shifted in the saddle. "No, sweetheart, it sure as hell don't hurt." His voice had that slow drawl, the one that sent heat curling low in my stomach.

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to focus on the cattle ahead instead of the way my pulse picked up under his gaze. "You gonna keep starin' or actually do your job?"

Ryan smirked, tipping his hat at me. "Oh, I'm workin', alright. Just happen to have the best damn view on the ranch."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the grin tugging at my lips. "Smooth, Ryan."

"Just callin' it like I see it." His voice was softer now, less teasing.

Damn him. I swallowed, nudging my horse forward to put a little space between us before I did something stupid—like let him see just how much I liked the way he was looking at me.

I felt a sense of relief when we finally made it back to the ranch, guiding the cattle into the corral. Rip was already barking orders at the hands, his voice sharp and commanding. Dad, on the other hand, was struggling with Kayce's stallion, who was giving him a hard time. Guess he still wasn't ready to be ridden.

As on queue, Kayce strolled up to the corral, Tate in tow. I rode over to him, "Dad is really loving that horse you gave him. Just took him back to the barn if you wanted to talk to him."

Kayce eyed me and said, "When did you start getting dressed up for wrangling cattle?"

"Why is everyone so damn worried about what I'm wearing?" I groaned.

Kayce smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ain't about what you're wearin', sis. It's about who you're wearin' it for."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes even as my face heated. "Maybe I just felt like lookin' nice for once."

Tate, ever the little instigator, grinned up at me. "Mom always says girls do that when they like somebody."

I shot Kayce a glare. "Your kid spends too much time eavesdroppin'."

Kayce just laughed, shaking his head. "Just sayin', Alex, you look a little too put together for a morning covered in dust and cow shit." He glanced past me, where I knew Ryan was tying up his horse. "Not that I think your cowboy's complainin'."

I groaned, pulling my hat lower to shield the heat rising in my cheeks. "You're impossible."

Kayce shrugged, flashing a grin as he nudged Tate toward the barn. "Yeah, but I'm right."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," I called after them. Seriously, did everyone on this ranch know? Hell, Kayce had figured it out and he didn't even live here anymore.

I took a steadying breath, trying to calm the warmth creeping up my neck.

I glanced up, spotting Jimmy riding in from the field, a stray calf draped across his lap. Maybe there was a cowboy in him after all.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Fred jeered.

"Just open the damn gate," I shot back, rolling my eyes.

The cattle were rounded up and driven out, the day's work winding down as a rare quiet settled over the ranch. But quiet never lasted long around here.

Behind me, I heard the scuffle of boots just as I walked toward the barn with Colby and Ryan. Fred had tripped Jimmy, sending him sprawling to the ground—and knocking me off balance in the process.

Before I could fall, Ryan's grip caught my arm, steady and sure, keeping me from hitting the dirt.

I sucked in a breath as I felt the familiar heat of his touch that lingered just a moment before Ryan shouted, "Cut the shit, Fred."

I steadied myself on my feet glancing over my shoulder, "This is not going to end well." Jimmy swung on Fred. He'd had enough. The torment the kid must have been feeling had bubbled over. Swing for swing they went at each other. Each time Jimmy would land in the dirt he kept getting back up. He had guts. But chances were Jimmy's guts would be in the dirt before the fight was over.

"Leave him alone, Fred," I shouted.

Fred barely acknowledged me, too busy throwing another punch that sent Jimmy sprawling again. The kid coughed, wiping blood from his lip as he pushed himself back up, stubborn as ever.

Ryan let out a frustrated sigh, already stepping forward, but I beat him to it. I stalked toward Fred, shoving him hard enough that he stumbled back. "I said enough." My voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Fred wiped his chin, glaring down at me. "What, you gonna fight his battles for him?"

"No," I shot back, eyes narrowing. "But I will end this one if you don't back off."

The tension between us thickened, but then Rip's voice cut through the air. "What the fuck is goin' on?"

Fred stepped back, but not before shooting me a look. "Nothin', boss. Just teachin' the new guy a lesson."

Rip's stare was ice cold as he glanced between Fred and Jimmy, then landed on me. "Alex?"

I folded my arms. "Jimmy was just holding his own. Fred just doesn't know when to quit."

Rip huffed, shaking his head. "You wanna throw punches, Fred? Fine. But next time, you better pick someone who ain't got more heart than brains." He turned to Jimmy, who was still wobbling on his feet. "And you? Get cleaned up. Y'all go get you're supper, I'll finish up with this piece of shit."

I gave Rip a knowing look. "Alright." I had a feeling today was gonna be Fred's last day at the Yellowstone. II couldn't stand bullies—especially ones like Fred.

Ryan nudged my arm, smirking. "You always this good at startin' trouble?"

I exhaled, shaking my head. "Nah. But I'm real damn good at ending it."

By the time we got there, the tables were nearly full. Colby snagged the only open chair, leaving just one empty spot—right next to Ryan.

Gator handed me a plate piled high with perfectly cooked steak and potatoes.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Gator?" I teased, stabbing my fork into the meat.

"Only every day, Ms. Alex," he said with a flush of pride.

Next to me, Ryan smirked. "Should I leave you two alone?"

I shot Ryan a playful glance, raising an eyebrow. "Only if you're jealous, cowboy." I cut a piece of steak and took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. "But I promise, there's enough love to go around."

Gator chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away, and I caught the brief flash of something in Ryan's eyes—like he wasn't quite sure if I was joking or not.

Ryan sat down beside me, his presence as steady as always. "I wouldn't worry about Gator," he said with a grin. "I think he's more into the food than anything else."

"Good," I teased. "Because if I thought I had to fight over a plate of steak, we'd be in trouble."

Ryan leaned back, eyes never leaving mine. "Well, I'd say you're winning, then. But you might just have to fight me for the last piece."

I smiled, teasing, "I'd love to see you try."

We ate in companionable silence, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the playful tension between us was slowly, quietly, building.

My leg brushed against his, then my arm. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, a slow burn beneath the surface.

Ryan's gaze flicked to me, sharp and knowing. "What are you doing?"

I shrugged, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything."

His eyes stayed on mine, the air between us growing heavier. "You know exactly what you're doing."

I leaned in slightly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Maybe I do," I teased, letting the moment stretch, just long enough to drive him crazy.

His gaze darkened, lips pressing together like he was biting back a response. Instead, he exhaled a quiet, frustrated laugh. "You're dangerous, Alex."

"Only if you let me be," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He held my stare, considering, testing. Then, a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'll let you be." A challenge.

I glanced at the other hands, chatting and eating, completely ignoring us. So I took him up on his challenge, my hand slid under the table resting lightly on his thigh. My fingers traced soft, slow circles. I look over at him for a response.

Ryan's breath hitched ever so slightly, but his expression remained stoic, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep control. He didn't flinch, didn't look away, but I could feel the shift in him, like a storm just beneath the surface.

He leaned in, voice low and rough. "You really want to play this game, Alex?"

I held his gaze, unflinching, daring him to break. "I'm just getting started."

The words were barely above a whisper, but the tension was palpable, simmering between us like we were the only two people there.

My hand slid up higher, past the leather of his chaps, massaging him through the denim of his jeans. Testing him, teasing him a little more. "You doing ok, cowboy?"

Ryan's breath quickened, his grip tightening on his fork as his eyes flickered down to my hand, the heat between us intensifying. He leaned in closer, his voice low but sharp, the edge of a challenge lacing his words. "Careful, Alex. You don't want to test me too much."

He didn't pull away, but the tension in his posture shifted, his body coiling like a spring, ready to snap. The boys around us felt miles away, the chatter and laughter dimming in comparison to the electric current crackling between us.

"Guess we'll see," I said with a smirk, keeping my hand steady, daring him to react.

I felt him react as I shifted slightly, my hand moving over his hardening reaction. A subtle twitch, a clench of his thighs. It was all the answer I needed.

Ryan's breath hitched as I moved, his body stiffening beneath my touch. The tension between us deepened, thickening with every second. He shot me a look—half warning, half something else, something darker, but it only spurred me on further.

"Damn it, Alex," he said, his voice tight, rough.

"You give up?" I teased, my fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles, keeping him right on the edge.

He exhaled sharply, his voice low and rough in my ear. "Fine, you win. But if you don't stop, I won't be able to stand up without everyone knowing exactly what you're doing."

A satisfied smile played on my lips as I leaned in just enough for him to feel it. "That's what I thought," I whispered, dragging my hand away—slowly, deliberately—letting the tension linger thick between us.

Ryan exhaled sharply, looking like he was fighting the urge to grab me and pull me closer. But he didn't. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his jaw clenched in silent restraint.

"You're trouble, Alex," he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I leaned back, catching the eyes of the others at the table. "You're just figuring that out?" I shot back, my tone light, even though my heart was pounding.

—-

I might have tucked away that smirk of Ryan's in my dreams—the way he used to touch me, the way he still reacted when I touched him. Because when I woke up, I was all kinds of frustrated. But there wasn't time to deal with that. Not yet.

I needed to relieve the tension somehow. So I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra, tying my sneakers tight. A run. It might not give me exactly what I wanted, but at least it would give my body something else to focus on.

It was still dark when I stepped outside, the crisp morning air prickling my skin. I started my playlist, letting the music drown out the world as my feet hit the dirt. No thinking, no second-guessing—just running.

Being the first one awake on the ranch was rare—almost unheard of. But frustration had gotten the best of me. If I didn't get Ryan to cave soon, I might just explode. Or end up making a trip to town for a new vibrator.

I shook my head at myself, barely holding back a laugh. I still couldn't believe I'd lost mine in San Antonio. Some poor maid probably got the surprise of her life finding it abandoned in that hotel bathroom.

Sweat glistened on my skin as I slowed to a stop, catching my breath just as the scent of bacon and coffee drifted from the bunkhouse. Perfect timing.

"You are always there when I need you," I said to Gator as he handed me my special brew. I closed my eyes, savoring that first euphoric sip, then pressed the cool glass to my flushed skin with a sigh.

I wasn't expecting an audience when I opened them—but there they were. The whole damn bunkhouse, staring.

"Don't you boys have some work to do or something?" I quirked a brow, shifting my weight onto one hip.

"Gonna be hard to concentrate if you're wearing that," Ryan muttered, his eyes dragging over me in a slow, deliberate once-over.

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I'm starting to get whiplash. You tease me when I dress up, and you tease me when I dress down. Which is it, cowboy?"

"I think he'd much rather have you undressed," Colby chuckled, shooting me a knowing grin as he leaned back against the bunkhouse railing. "But you didn't ask me."

Ryan's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing like Colby had just broken some unspoken cowboy code. "The hell you runnin' your mouth for?" he muttered, shifting uncomfortably like he'd just been called out in front of the whole damn bunkhouse.

Colby just laughed, unfazed. "Relax, man. It ain't exactly a secret." His gaze flicked between us, the amusement clear in his expression. "Pretty sure everyone here's been placing bets on when you're finally gonna crack."

I smirked, tilting my head at Ryan, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as he gritted his teeth. "That true?" I asked, feigning innocence. "You been holdin' out on me, cowboy?"

Ryan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before giving me that lopsided smirk that always got me into trouble. "You're somethin' else, you know that?"

Colby clapped him on the shoulder. "Yep. And you're screwed."

My thoughts of being screwed—one way or another—were interrupted by the low rumble of truck engines and the unmistakable clatter of trailers rolling down the road. Every cowboy in the bunkhouse turned to look as the convoy pulled up in a cloud of dust.

Travis was back, and by the looks of it, he'd brought some of his best studs, still hoping Dad would finally make a damn decision.

I crossed my arms, watching as he climbed out of the driver's seat, Stetson low over his eyes, already barking orders before his boots even hit the dirt. Typical Travis. Always working an angle, always pushing to get his way.

Ryan muttered under his breath. "Guess we're in for a show."

"Yeah," I sighed, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. "And I have a feeling it's gonna be a long one."

I took another slow drink from my glass before making my way toward the corral, where Travis's prized horses were being led out one by one. Dad, Rip, and Jamie stood in their usual formation, arms crossed, eyes assessing each stud with practiced scrutiny. But it was the palomino that caught my attention.

The golden stallion pranced out of the trailer like he knew he was something special, muscles rippling beneath his glossy coat. I couldn't help but smile.

"Couldn't keep him away, I see?" I called up to Travis, meeting his gaze from the back of his horse.

"I suppose you get that reaction from every male that gets between your thighs," he shot back, grinning like the cocky bastard he was.

Jamie stiffened beside me. "You know that's my sister, right?"

Travis smirked, unfazed. "That's bad news for you."

Rip huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, while Dad just let out a long sigh. I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my coffee.

Same Travis. Same bullshit.

The lighthearted banter died instantly when I turned and spotted Monica and Tate standing in the drive.

Where was Kayce?

A cold sense of unease settled in my chest as I took in Monica's expression—tight-lipped, eyes heavy with something unspoken but undeniably bad. My stomach twisted.

I set my coffee down on the fence post, already moving toward her. "Monica?"

She barely spared me a glance before her gaze flicked to Dad. "John," she called, voice tense. "We need to talk."

Dad straightened, his posture shifting from casual observation to sharp focus. Rip and Jamie exchanged glances, and I caught the way Tate clung to his mother's hand, his little face scrunched with worry.

Something was wrong.

Really wrong.

The words hit like a blow to the gut. Kayce had been arrested, but they wouldn't say why or where he was. Monica's desperation was almost palpable, her usual composure shattered. I could see it in the tight set of her jaw and the way her hands trembled slightly as she clutched Tate's.

I was barely holding myself together when Monica turned to Dad, her voice cracking as she asked for his help. He didn't hesitate. He didn't waste time with questions. The ranch owner in him immediately shifted into the role of protector, his connections and influence already at work as he called Jamie to make arrangements.

I stayed close to Monica, keeping her distracted while Dad and Jamie handled the calls. "Hey, you alright?" I asked softly, my voice gentle as I nudged her toward the porch steps, trying to shield her from whatever storm was coming.

Monica gave a quick nod, but her eyes betrayed her. "I never should have let him go," she murmured, more to herself than to me. She was playing the blame game now, but it wasn't her fault. It never was.

I couldn't blame her for thinking that way though. Kayce was always getting caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it wasn't just luck—it was his bad decisions catching up with him. The kind of bad decisions that typically ended with blood on someone's hands. The kind that had haunted him for as long as I could remember.

I couldn't help but wonder what had happened this time. Had it been another misunderstanding, or was this something bigger? Something worse?

All I knew for sure was that I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out the answer.

I looked toward Dad as he walked up to join us. Jamie was heading off in the chopper. I started to ask, but stopped myself. Maybe this was an adult conversation that Tate didn't need to hear.

"You hungry?" I asked him, "You wanna go see what Gator has hiding in the kitchen?"

He looked to his mom, then back to me.

I could see the relief in Monica's eyes as she gave Tate the nod to go with me. She needed a moment to breathe, to gather herself. I knew how she felt—when the weight of everything started to crush down, it was hard to keep it together. Sometimes, the best thing you could do was take a step back, if only for a minute.

Tate followed me into the house, his little footsteps trailing behind. I led him to the kitchen, where Gator was already bustling about, preparing the afternoon meal. He greeted us with a nod and a smile, but I could see the concern behind his eyes. He'd seen enough to know when something was off.

"What's the special today?" I asked, trying to sound normal, like everything wasn't falling apart outside.

"Chicken chili with black beans," Gator replied with a wink, turning back to the stove.

I chuckled, nudging Tate. "You hear that? We're in for a real treat."

Tate didn't respond at first, his mind clearly elsewhere. I placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay, kid," I said softly. "We're gonna find your dad."

He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face. I knew he was just as scared as his mom was. As much as I wanted to believe that everything would turn out okay, something about the situation gnawed at me. Kayce was never involved in anything small. And that made everything feel ten times worse.

Gator set a plate down in front of us, and for a moment, the warmth of the food and the quiet chatter of the kitchen gave a false sense of calm. But I knew better. I knew the storm was far from over.

"Think your mom wants one of those cookies?" I asked him eyeing the plate of giant cookies.

"Think I should take her one?" he asked.

"I bet that would make her feel a little better," I responded. "Better get one for Grandpa too."

Tate's eyes lit up at the suggestion, his focus shifting from the uneaten food to the plate of cookies on the counter. He was always the sweet one—always thinking about other people's feelings, especially when it came to his mom and Grandpa.

"Okay, I'll take one for them," he said, his voice determined. He reached for two cookies, choosing the biggest ones with the most chocolate chips, then wrapped them up carefully in a napkin.

I watched as he scampered out of the kitchen, his small feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. For a moment, I could almost forget about the tension hanging in the air.

As Tate disappeared around the corner, I couldn't help but feel a little proud. He was handling this better than most adults would. I just hoped he didn't inherit too much of the chaos that seemed to follow the Duttons around.

Gator chuckled, noticing my gaze. "Kid's got a good heart, you know that?"

"Yeah," I replied, my voice soft. "Just hope he doesn't have to grow up too fast."

Gator gave me a knowing look. "That's the hardest part of it all, isn't it?"

I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. Life on the ranch wasn't easy, but seeing Tate still hold onto that innocence was something I wished I could protect forever.

I showered and dressed in something more ranch-appropriate. Normal jeans and a top. My freshly washed hair pulled back in a low ponytail as I headed back out.

If I wanted to know what happened to Kayce, I'd have to drag it out of him. I knew Dad wouldn't tell me.

As I walked outside, the dry heat of the ranch settled over me, making the air feel thick, but it wasn't as stifling as the tension I could feel weighing me down. I wasn't good at sitting around, waiting for news to trickle in. I needed to do something, anything, to take my mind off Kayce and the mess he'd gotten himself into this time.

I saw Jamie's chopper in the distance, his silhouette cutting against the sky. He wasn't one to back down from a fight, especially when it came to family. If anyone could get Kayce out of whatever legal crisis he was in, it was him.

I walked toward the corral, trying to keep my pace casual, but every part of me was on edge. My eyes kept darting between the horses and the distant barn, hoping to see Jamie's return. The ranch, usually so full of life and noise, felt eerily quiet. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen, like the calm before a storm.

"Hey," Colby greeted me from the side of the barn, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Hey."

"You alright?" he asked, studying me with those sharp eyes of his. He could always tell when something was off.

"Just worried about Kayce," I admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it. There was no point in pretending like everything was fine when it wasn't.

Colby let out a breath, glancing over toward the road where Jamie had disappeared. "I'm sure he'll pull through. He always does. But if you need to talk… you know where to find me."

I gave him a brief nod, appreciating the offer more than I let on. "Thanks, Colby."

I turned my gaze back to the horizon, waiting for any sign of Jamie's return, or for something—anything—to give me a sense of control in this whole mess.

Travis had already begun loading the horses, but the family drama had him pausing—business could wait, especially when something more urgent was unfolding.

"Hold on a second," I called as he started guiding the palomino into the trailer. "How much did you say he was?"

Travis flashed a cocky grin. "$200,000."

I raised an eyebrow and leaned in slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse down my shirt. It was a trick I'd seen Beth pull off countless times to get free drinks at bars. Worth a shot.

"How many horses have I bought from you?" I asked, keeping my voice casual but laced with enough challenge to make him think twice.

He glanced at me, eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. "Two, maybe three… but none of 'em were quite like you."

I smirked, shifting my weight. "How about you cut me a deal? Make it worth my while, and we can skip the haggling."

He chuckled, clearly entertained by the back and forth. "You really think you can talk me down that easily?" He lifted the palomino's reins, adjusting the horse's stance as if he was in no rush to entertain the idea.

"Maybe," I said, stepping closer to him, my voice low enough for only him to hear. "I think you and I both know how this works. I'm not just another buyer."

Travis's gaze flickered for a split second—he knew the score. The game was on, and I wasn't going to let him call the shots. He'd have to play my way if he wanted this deal to go through.

"I'll throw in a discount," he said after a pause, but I could tell the price wasn't the only thing on his mind.

I smirked, crossing my arms. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," he said with a wink. "But next time, don't make offers you're not plannin' on seein' through."

The spark of tension between us crackled in the air. I wasn't about to let it go any further—not today, not ever. But he didn't need to know that. "I'll take the deal," I said, turning to head back toward the house. "

He just laughed, shaking his head as he went back to loading up the horses. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back, but I didn't turn around. Not this time.

"Call me when you've got your daddy's checkbook," he called after me, the challenge heavy in his voice. I didn't turn back. I just let him watch me walk away, my boots steady on the ground, the sound of my footsteps the only response he'd get.

The ranch helicopter touched down in the field, the whirring of the blades slowing as Jamie stepped out, Kayce following behind him. I felt a sudden release in my chest, like the weight of the day was lifting with the heavy sound of the rotors fading away.

"It's settled," Jamie called over to me, his tone steady as he walked toward us. "All of it."

Dad stood a little apart from the group, his eyes following Kayce as he lifted Tate up into his arms. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but the words hit hard. "Now that we've got him here, we can't let him leave. I don't want to lose another son."

The unspoken weight of his words settled in, heavy and real.

"I'll do what I can, but he's not gonna stay just because I tell him to," I replied, my voice firm but tinged with the desperation I didn't want to admit. After everything, I wanted Kayce home. Even if he didn't want to be here. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was where he needed to be.

"I'll make some calls," Jamie offered, his expression hardening with resolve.

"Now you're thinking," Dad replied, giving Jamie a nod of approval. The tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen just a bit.

The silence that followed felt heavier than before, but I knew there was nothing more to say—just actions to follow.

Dad took the lead, calling Kayce to take a walk with him.

"Hey Tate," I said, "you wanna come watch the cowboys doctor the cows?"

Tate's eyes lit up, the spark of excitement shining through as he looked up at me. "Really? I get to watch the cowboys doctor the cows?"

"Yep, really," I grinned, trying to make it sound like an adventure, "come on, let's go."

I could already feel the subtle pull of Monica's watchful gaze as she overheard, but I wasn't worried. If I could get Tate involved, it might just be the key to getting Kayce to see that this ranch, this family, was where he belonged.

Tate ran ahead, clearly thrilled by the idea, and I followed, hoping that this small act would help push things in the right direction. If I could get to Kayce through Tate, maybe it would ease the burden on Monica, too.

I hoisted Tate up onto the fence, giving him a better view of the action. Ryan, Colby, and Lloyd were busy roping calves, expertly pinning them down for the vet to administer their shots. Jimmy, though, seemed to be limping behind, barely keeping up. Fred was nowhere in sight. Looks like Rip had taken out the trash after all.

"You only rope when it's a fake steer?" Colby called over to me with a grin.

"If I do all the ropin', what'll you do?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Colby chuckled, shaking his head, and I caught Tate's wide-eyed look of awe as he watched the cowboys work. At least one of us was enjoying the show.

"That's a big needle," Tate remarked, his eyes wide as he watched the vet prep the syringe.

I chuckled, leaning down to his level as I wiped my hands on my jeans. "Oh, it doesn't hurt them any more than the shots you get at the doctor."

He frowned, skeptical, then glanced at the needle again. "Well, they sure hurt, but I usually get ice cream after, so it's worth it," he said with a dramatic sigh.

I laughed, ruffling his hair. "Ice cream, huh? Guess that makes it all better, doesn't it?"

Tate nodded seriously, his face lighting up at the thought. "Yup. Ice cream makes everything better."

"Well, we might need to get you some after this," I teased. "But maybe stick to just the cows getting their shots today."

He shot me a playful look. "Only if I get a double scoop."

I smiled, grateful for the way he could turn anything into a moment of lightness.

"Deal," I respond as I stand up. Glancing over at the wranglers, my eyes lingering on one particular cowboy. Ryan. I watched him rope and ride, corralling them.

"That's the one you like, ain't it?" Tate said loud. Reminding me how children will say every thought that runs through their heads. My cheeks flushed a little.

I laughed nervously, giving Tate a playful nudge. "Don't go saying things like that out loud, buddy," I said, trying to hide the warmth creeping up my neck.

Tate grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. "Well, it's true, isn't it? You look at him like he's the last piece of pie at Thanksgiving."

My blush deepened, but I couldn't help but chuckle. "You've got a way with words, little man," I said, glancing back at the cowboy in question. He was focused, working with a natural ease that drew my attention every time.

"Well, it's pretty obvious," Tate continued, now standing tall on the fence as if he was the one giving out the advice. "He's got that cowboy thing going on. You like cowboys, don't you?"

I shot him a mock glare. "Maybe, I like a cowboy," I said, my voice lowering just enough that only he could hear, "but we don't talk about that, alright?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me like he'd just unlocked a mystery. "Alright, alright," he said, backing off with a grin. "But when you do, you better let me know. I'll make sure you get that ice cream."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "You're a handful, Tate."

"Ain't that the truth," Kayce said as he walked up behind me, giving me a look, "No makeup today?"

"Don't you have anything better to do than mess with me?" I retorted.

"Yeah, but it's not as fun," he chuckled, "I actually do need to go see how bad they messed up that stallion."

I gave him an exaggerated eye roll, folding my arms as I watched him inch closer. "You just can't resist poking fun at me, can you?" I teased, trying to hide the way his comment made my chest tighten slightly.

Kayce grinned, his eyes flickering with that familiar mischievous gleam. "Nah, it's more fun watching you squirm than actually getting work done," he replied, giving me a quick once-over. "Besides, you look fine. The no-makeup look suits you, but I gotta admit, I think you clean up real nice."

"You have to say that cause you're my brother," I responded. "Not that I asked for your unsolicited opinion."

"I guess I have a slight bias since you look like me," he chuckled, ""But I do need to see what the hell happened with that stallion I gave Dad."

"He's fierce and stubborn, reminds me of someone I know," I gave him a playful nudge.

"Yeah well, you're the same way, must run in our genes," he said.

"What's in your jeans?" Tate asked.

"He means it runs in the family," I told him. "You wanna keep hanging out with me or go watch your dad try and ride that horse?"

"Horse!" Tate shouted.

"Dutton men, heartbreakers," I held my hand over my chest.

"So are Dutton women," Kayce chuckled, giving me one last teasing glance before turning to head off to the barn with Tate trailing behind him.

I watched them walk away, Tate's excited voice still echoing in the distance as he shouted about horses. It was always funny how quickly he could latch onto something, a reminder of the way I used to get swept up in the ranch's chaos when I was his age. But now, there was a weight I couldn't shake off.

Dutton women, heartbreakers, huh? It was a joke, but something in me caught on the phrase. Was that how Kayce saw me? Or was it just playful banter, the kind that went hand-in-hand with the endless teasing we'd grown up with?

I'd always worn my heart on my sleeve, maybe too much for my own good, and even if he was my brother, his words had a way of lingering longer than I'd liked. Maybe I was like the stubborn stallion—fierce, wild, and in need of some taming.

Shaking my head, I pulled myself back to the present, pushing the doubts aside. There was no room for that right now. Not with everything going on with the ranch and the mess Kayce had somehow gotten himself into.

I turned to head toward the barn, hoping to clear my head, but one thing was clear: the Duttons—men and women alike—were a force to be reckoned with, and I was just as tangled in the web of family pride, love, and legacy as any of them.

—

I stood there for a moment, my gaze cut to the bunkhouse door, my mind at war with itself. The soft glow of the lights inside promised warmth, laughter, and a kind of relief that only a group of like-minded cowboys could offer. But I hesitated.

The house was full of tension, and I wasn't in the mood for any more drama. Beth was running herself ragged trying to keep up with everything Dad needed, and it was wearing her down. I'd watched it unfold over the past few days—the exhaustion in her eyes, the sharpness in her words. She was a force in her own right, but I could see she was losing the battle with whatever weight she'd taken on.

I sighed, brushing my hand over my face, pushing away the thought of dealing with any more stress. The last thing I needed tonight was to be caught in another one of those emotional spirals. I was looking for peace. Something to distract me from the ache of everything swirling around me.

But maybe the bunkhouse was just what I needed. Maybe tonight, I could let go of everything—just for a little while.

I took a step toward the door. Then another.

By the time I reached the threshold, there was a quiet solitude inside. Maybe it wasn't just about the company; maybe it was about finding something real, something simple, where I didn't have to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

I pulled the door open.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us," Colby said, a playful grin on his face. The others turned to look at me, their faces lighting up with genuine welcome.

I stepped in, the weight in my chest lifting just a fraction. For a moment, it was just me and them—the world outside could wait.

"No poker game tonight?" I asked as I moved further in the room.

"Quiet night tonight, I'm afraid," he answered.

I scanned the room, Jimmy was slumped over in his bunk. The weight of the day must have hit him too. My eyes cut over to Ryan, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist. His looked exhausted from the long day behind us.

"Hey," I said softly.

"Hey, back," he responded, "you alright?"

"Yeah, just looking for a distraction," I said, "You game?"

Ryan's eyes flickered with curiosity, his tiredness momentarily pushed aside as he studied me. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, like he could sense I wasn't just looking for a game to pass the time.

"Distraction, huh?" he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. "You know, there are easier ways to get my attention than that."

I shrugged, trying to keep my expression neutral, though I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. "Poker's a little too much for me tonight," I admitted. "I was thinking more along the lines of... just talking. Maybe grabbing a drink. Something a little less intense."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I think I can manage that," he said, his tone shifting into something softer, warmer.

I took a seat at the table, my eyes flickering briefly to Colby and the others, who seemed content to let the two of us be. As I settled into the familiar chair, the world outside seemed even further away, the weight in my chest lifting more with each passing second.

Ryan grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, sliding one across the table toward me. "So, what's really going on?" he asked, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair, studying me like he was trying to figure out more than just my surface.

I hesitated, unsure if I should really unload on him, but something about his presence felt... safe. "I don't know," I muttered, swirling the beer bottle in my hands. "Everything just feels off lately, you know? Like I can't catch a break." I took a deep breath. "It's been one thing after another. And I'm just... tired of trying to keep it all together."

Ryan's expression softened even more, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You don't have to keep it all together by yourself, you know?" His voice was quiet, but there was a weight to it, like he meant it.

I swallowed, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease. "I know," I said, meeting his gaze. "I just... I'm not good at asking for help."

"You don't have to ask," he said with a slight smile. "Sometimes, it's just about letting someone be there."

The moment hung between us, the words unspoken but understood. I didn't know what the future held, but right now, with the warmth of the bunkhouse and the quiet comfort of Ryan's company, it felt like enough.

The new hand Rip hired sauntered in the door, saddlebag slung over his shoulder, guitar case in his hand.

"You play that guitar?" Ryan stood, leaning against the wall.

"Nope, I just like to drag this fucking thing around," the hand said. "Why y'all wanna hear one?"

I gave a nod moving to stand in Ryan's orbit. Instinctively he draped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. It felt like being home being in his arms.

Ryan's fingers brushed idly against my shoulder, a quiet reassurance as the music filled the space. His touch was casual to anyone looking, but I knew better. It was an anchor—something solid in the whirlwind of everything else.

The new hand's voice was rough, carrying the weight of a man who'd seen too much, been through more than he'd ever say out loud. The song itself bled into the cracks of the bunkhouse, settling heavy over all of us, like we were all carrying something we couldn't put down.

Then Rip's voice cut through the moment. "Jimmy, you're with me. You too, Walker."

The new hand barely reacted, just nodded as he set his guitar down. Jimmy hesitated, glancing toward me for half a second, like he wished he could just stay put. But we all knew better. When Rip gave an order, you followed it.

I watched them go, my gaze lingering a little longer on the new guy. I knew what kind of hand he was. The kind that didn't just mend fences or drive cattle. The kind that carried the weight of secrets stitched into his skin.

I rested a hand on Ryan's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. "Has anything changed?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan didn't answer right away. Instead, he exhaled, glancing toward the door Rip had disappeared through. Then, slowly, he looked back down at me, shaking his head once.

No.

Nothing had changed. Not the brand. Not the things done in the dark. Not the weight of what it meant to be part of this place.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly against his shirt. I had always known what the ranch was. What my father had built. What it took to keep it.

But I had hoped, foolishly, that maybe some things would be different.

Ryan must've seen it in my eyes, because his grip on me tightened just a little. "Don't go diggin' where you don't want answers," he said quietly.

I nodded, but we both knew I wouldn't be able to help myself.

"Can I stay here with you, tonight?" I asked softly.

Ryan studied me for a long moment, his blue eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. If I knew what I was asking.

"You sure?" he asked again, his voice quieter this time.

I nodded. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't."

His jaw ticked like he was considering all the reasons this wasn't a good idea, but he didn't push me away. He never had. Instead, his fingers traced a slow path down my arm before he exhaled, resigned.

"Alright," he said finally, tipping his head toward his bunk. "Come on, then."

I followed without hesitation, slipping past the few remaining hands who were still lingering, pretending not to notice. I didn't care. Not tonight.

Ryan sat on the edge of his bunk, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before shrugging it off. He didn't say anything as I toed off my boots and crawled in beside him, but the second I settled against him, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

I let out a slow breath, my body sinking into the warmth of his. His scent—leather, dust, and something distinctly him—wrapped around me, grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

"Get some sleep," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to my hair.

I closed my eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. For the first time all day, the weight in my chest eased. Maybe things hadn't changed. Maybe they never would.

But tonight, at least, I wasn't alone.