I applied a touch of makeup, styled my hair, and slipped into the formal dress I'd picked out for the dinner. It was barely noon, but Helena was a long drive away, so we had to leave early.

"Sweetheart, hurry up," Dad called up the stairs. "I'll leave without you."

"I'm coming, Dad," I called back, slipping on my favorite boots while carrying a pair of heels in my hand.

As I descended the steps, Dad looked up at me, freezing in place for a moment. His expression softened, something almost wistful passing over his face.

"You look just like your mother," he murmured, shaking his head. "It's uncanny. I haven't seen you dressed up like that since you went to prom with that pimple-faced Avery… or Adam… or whatever the fuck his name was."

"Adam Thompson," I reminded him with a smirk. "And that was a long time ago."

Dad huffed, opening the truck door for me. "Not long enough."

As we pulled away, I glanced out the window, watching the bunkhouse fade into the distance, a small pang of longing settling in my chest.

"Whatever happened to that kid anyway?" Dad asked after a moment.

I shrugged, leaning against the window. "After Kayce broke his hand for shoving it up my dress, I haven't talked to him. Seen his parents in town a couple times, though."

Dad's grip tightened on the wheel. "Knew I didn't like that boy."

"I didn't like him much either," I admitted. "But he was the only guy brave enough to ask me."

"What were they scared of?" he asked, throwing me a sideways glance.

I snorted. "You, for starters. Then Lee, Jamie, Kayce… and even Beth. Hard to find a guy willing to take on the entire Dutton clan just to take me to a movie and dinner."

Dad smirked, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. "Damn right. Any man worth your time should be willing to face all of us and still stick around."

I sighed, staring out the window. "Yeah, well… not many of those out there."

Dad was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Maybe you just haven't found the right one yet."

I bit my lip, thinking of Ryan. If only Dad knew.

"I think maybe there's someone closer than you think," I tested.

"Please tell me you're not seeing a bull rider you met on the road," he responded.

"No, Dad," I smiled, "I'm not dating anyone, really." Technically not a lie. Ryan and I had never been on an actual date. Unless you counted wrangling cattle and making out in the barn after as a date. But Dad didn't need to know that.

Dad grunted, clearly not convinced but willing to let it go—for now. "Good. Last thing I need is some rodeo cowboy sniffin' around my daughter."

I smirked, turning my gaze back to the window. If only he knew just how close the cowboy in question really was.

The conversation was cut short when Dad pulled off to the side of the road to a stop. A tour bus was parked, and a group of tourists was standing in the field, our field, a big grizzly not twenty feet from them.

Dad grabbed his rifle from the back seat and climbed out, "Stay here."

"Don't shoot him," referring to the bear, "or any of them."

Dad shot me a look but didn't argue as he stalked toward the group. I climbed out after him, keeping my distance but ready to step in if needed. The tourists were oblivious to the danger they were in, snapping pictures and murmuring excitedly.

"Hey!" Dad barked, his voice carrying over the field. "Get back on your damn bus before that bear makes a meal outta you!"

A few of them jumped, startled, but one lady—their tour guide I guessed—laughed. "Relax. We're just getting some pictures. He looks friendly."

"He looks like he's deciding which one of you is the slowest," I muttered under my breath.

Dad's patience was already wearing thin. "That's a grizzly bear, not a damn mascot! Move. Now."

The bear let out a low, rumbling huff, shifting its weight. The group hesitated, but I could see the first hints of fear creeping in.

I sighed and took a step closer. "Listen, y'all. He might look peaceful, but if you spook him or get between him and where he wants to go, he'll tear through you like paper. Now, unless you wanna make the evening news as a cautionary tale, get your asses back on that bus."

Dad pointed his rifle in the air firing off a warning shot.

The group of tourists took off, they were more afraid of my father with a gun than a rampaging grizzly.

"Alright, alright. No need to get hostile," the leader shouted.

"We wouldn't have to if people had an ounce of common sense," Dad grumbled.

One by one, the tourists climbed back on board, some still snapping pictures from the windows. The bus driver gave us an apologetic nod before pulling back onto the road.

Dad exhaled sharply, lowering his rifle. The bear watched for a moment longer before turning and lumbering back into the trees.

"Idiots," Dad muttered, shaking his head.

I smirked. "Welcome to Montana."

—-

We were back on the road and I was thankful the conversion didn't go back to who I was or wasn't dating. I wondered though, what Dad would think if he knew about Ryan. He wasn't a rodeo cowboy. He was the real thing. Genuine.

I stared out the window, watching the endless stretch of open land blur past, my fingers idly tracing patterns on the leather seat. Ryan wasn't some hotshot bull rider chasing fame, and he sure as hell wasn't some rich rancher's kid playing cowboy on weekends. He was the kind of man who worked sunup to sundown, who knew the land, who understood the weight of responsibility. The kind of man my father might actually respect—if he didn't kill him first.

Would Dad see Ryan as different? Or would it be the same old story—his little girl getting too close to a ranch hand, a man who worked for him?

I swallowed, pushing the thought away. Ryan and I hadn't exactly put a label on whatever this was. And maybe that was for the best.

Dad tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead. "You're quiet all of a sudden."

I forced a small smirk. "Just thinking about how you almost had to shoot a grizzly back there."

He huffed a laugh. "Would've been a damn shame. Ain't the bear's fault people are stupid."

"No, it ain't."

I let the conversation settle there, but my thoughts kept drifting—to Ryan, to the bunkhouse, to the way his hands felt on my skin.

Dad wouldn't find out. Not yet.

—

I slid my feet out of my boots and into the strappy heels I brought before my Dad helped me down. I tucked my hand in my father's arm and let him guide me inside. There was a crowd of people, most of whom were at least twice my age.

"Your older brother will make a fine attorney general," someone, who I couldn't remember their name said.

"Yeah, he will. Jamie's brilliant. He'll do the state of Montana proud," I kept glancing back at the door wondering where the hell that brother of mine was. And why he wasn't schmoozing his own potential voters.

I forced a polite smile as another well-dressed guest leaned in to shake my father's hand, offering yet another promise of support for Jamie's campaign. My father responded with his usual gruff charm, but I could feel the tension building in his posture. This was supposed to be a show of strength, a united front—and yet, two of his children were missing.

I swirled the wine in my glass, barely taking a sip, my eyes flicking to the entrance. No sign of Jamie or Beth.

Dad finally exhaled a sharp breath, leaning over to me. "Where the hell are they?"

I shrugged. "Beth does what Beth wants. And Jamie—maybe he's finally grown a spine and decided to do the same."

He grunted, clearly not amused. "They know how important this is."

"Do they?" I arched a brow. "Or do they just know this is more for you than for Jamie?"

His jaw tightened, but before he could answer, someone else approached, extending their hand. I sat back, letting him shake it, my fingers tapping against my knee beneath the table.

I didn't mind dressing up, didn't mind playing the part. But it was damn hard to sell a united family when half of it didn't bother to show.

—-

"We're home," Dad called over to me. I blinked not realizing I dozed off on the ride back. I walked with him up to the porch and glanced over at the bunkhouse, the light was still on inside.

"I'm gonna go check on my horses," I said, placing the heels I carried on the porch railing.

"Like that?" he eyed me in my dress.

"I'm not going for a ride in it. Just making sure they're settled is all," I told him. Hoping like hell my father didn't see right through me.

"You used to do that when you were little," he said, "your mom would have you dressed up for church and the moment we got back you headed straight for the barn." He smiled at the memory. I had a twinge of guilt that I was hiding something from him.

"Good night, Dad," I said as he turned and walked inside.

I waited until the door shut behind him before I slipped off the porch, making my way toward the barn. The cool night air brushed against my skin, and I shivered slightly, but it wasn't from the cold. The bunkhouse light was still on, and I could just make out movement inside.

I stepped into the barn, the familiar scent of hay and leather wrapping around me like a comfort. Denim lifted his head from his stall, snorting softly as I approached.

"Hey, boy," I murmured, running a hand down his nose. "Just making sure you're all settled."

The barn door creaked open behind me, and I turned just as Ryan stepped inside, hands tucked in his pockets. His gaze raked over me, lingering on the dress before a slow smirk spread across his lips.

"Well, don't you look fancy," he drawled, closing the distance between us.

"Don't get used to it," I smirked back. "I feel like a damn show pony in this thing."

He chuckled, reaching out to toy with the hem of my dress. "Could've fooled me. You wear it real nice."

I rolled my eyes but didn't pull away. "Figured you'd be asleep by now."

"Figured you'd be in bed too," he countered. "Instead, you're sneakin' out here in the middle of the night. That dress got anything to do with it?"

I shrugged, playing coy, but he wasn't buying it. His fingers traced a slow path up my arm, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the night air.

"Maybe I just missed my horses," I teased.

His smirk deepened. "That so? Or did you miss somethin' else?"

"I think it's just the horses," my hands moved to his waist pulling him closer, my body already betraying me as he pushed me into the barn wall. "And maybe a little something else."

"That's what I thought," I felt the heat of his breath on my skin as his lips pressed against the sensitive spot just below my ear.

A soft sigh escaped me as his lips trailed lower, leaving a slow, burning path along my neck. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as his hands skimmed down my sides, tracing the curve of my waist.

"You looked real pretty tonight," he murmured against my skin.

"You should've seen me trying to walk in heels," I chuckled breathlessly, tilting my head to give him better access.

"That why you ditched 'em before sneakin' off?"

I nodded, my heart pounding as his fingers toyed with the hem of my dress again, this time slipping just beneath the fabric. "Not exactly barn-friendly attire."

His hands slid lower, gripping my thighs as he hoisted me up effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, my back pressing against the wooden wall behind me.

"I dunno," he drawled, his lips brushing mine, teasing but not quite giving in. "Kinda like seein' you all dressed up. Makes me wanna take it off you."

"Maybe I could get dressed up for you," I murmured, my fingers tracing slow circles against his back. "If you gave me a reason."

His lips hovered just above mine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And what kind of reason would I need?"

"She's trying to get you to ask her out on a date, you idiot," Lloyd said from the shadows. "Can't be subtle with young cowboys. Especially when their blood is running away from their brains."

Startled Ryan almost dropped me, I clung tight to his shoulders to steady myself as my feet hit the floor.

Ryan froze, his grip tightening on me as he turned his head toward Lloyd's voice. "Shut up, Lloyd," he muttered, though there was a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

I couldn't help but laugh, my pulse still racing from the sudden shift. "You're right, though," I teased, glancing up at Ryan. "Maybe you should ask me out on a proper date."

Ryan shot me a look that sent a spark of heat straight through me, his voice low and teasing, "You think I need Lloyd to tell me what to do?"

"Maybe," I teased, "because you still haven't asked me."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took a step closer. "I'm working up to it," he said, clearing his throat dramatically before dropping to one knee, his voice playful but sincere. "Elsa Alexandria Dutton, will you do me the great honor of joining me for dinner Saturday night after the rodeo?"

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face, my heart fluttering in my chest. "It would be my pleasure," I replied, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle on me.

Lloyd chuckled and strolled out of the barn, leaving us in the warm hush of dim barn light.

"Now that's out of the way… where were we?" Ryan grinned as he stood, planting his hands on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.

"I think you were going to kiss me," I murmured, my hands sliding over his chest before looping around his neck.

"Was I?" he teased, his voice a low drawl as he leaned in.

His breath tickled my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, anticipation coiling tight in my stomach. My eyes fluttered shut, heart hammering, waiting—needing. But instead of the deep, toe-curling kiss I expected, his lips ghosted over my cheek in the lightest, most infuriating brush.

I groaned, tipping my head back against the wall. "I never knew you could be so cruel."

"Not cruel," he chuckled, his voice thick with amusement. "Just being a gentleman."

"Is that what we're calling it?" I groaned.

"Since I'm courting you now," he murmured, his voice dripping with something far too seductive for the word gentleman, "it's only fair that I behave accordingly."

"Courting?" I chuckled, tilting my head. "I think it's torture."

His lips curved into a slow, knowing grin. "Then I must be doin' it right."

My hands slid back down his chest, fingertips lingering just above his belt.

His breath hitched, just for a second, but I caught it. My fingers toyed with the leather of his belt, grazing the buckle as I met his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he smirked, though his voice was rougher now, edged with restraint.

"Seeing what the limits are," I murmured, tilting my head playfully. "I never promised to be a gentleman."

His hands flexed against the wall beside me, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "Darlin'," he warned, but I could hear it—the crack in his resolve, the battle he was already losing.

"Yes?" I looked up at him feigning innocence.

"Would you like to come inside for a while or do you need to get back?"

"Scared to be alone with me?" I asked back.

His lips quirked into a smirk, but his eyes darkened just enough to send a thrill down my spine.

"Not scared," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Just trying to be a gentleman, remember?"

I stepped closer, letting my fingers trail up his chest again, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch.

"Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman," I teased, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hands finally left the wall, settling firmly on my waist. "You're making it real hard to keep my word, sweetheart."

"I like you like this," I smirked. "But if you really want to wait, I suppose I can try to behave."

His hands flexed against me, and for a second, I thought he was going to give in. But then he chuckled low, shaking his head. "You're gonna be the death of me."

I smirked. "Better make it worth it then."

"It will be," he whispered in my ear, "So are you staying or leaving?"

"I can stay for a little while," I answered, my fingers running over his shoulder and down his arm, lacing my fingers with his. "It's not NASCAR night is it?"

"No, baby, it's not," he chuckled as we walked together into the bunkhouse.

Inside the typical bunkhouse activities were on display. A couple of the boys playing cards, the rest relaxing doing whatever it was they were doing.

"Alex is gonna get jealous if she finds out you brought another girl back here," Colby teased eyeing me over.

Ryan smirked, squeezing my hand as he led me further inside. "Reckon she might," he played along, glancing down at me with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "Real funny, Colby. You think I'd let him get away with that?"

"Oh it is you, barely recognized that get up on," Colby chuckled, shuffling the deck in his hands. "But I'm pretty sure we'd be finding pieces of him scattered across the ranch if he tried."

Ryan chuckled, pulling me closer. "Guess it's a good thing I only got eyes for one girl then."

"Guess it is a good thing," I said plopping down on the worn-out sofa. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle catching the eyes of the other men.

"What, I've had to act like a lady all night. I'm exhausted."

Ryan shook his head with a smirk, settling down beside me. "Reckon bein' all prim and proper takes it out of you, huh?"

"You have no idea," I sighed dramatically, stretching my arms over my head. "Smiling, nodding, pretending I care about land taxes and water rights? It's exhausting."

Colby snorted. "Yeah, bet that was real tough for you."

I shot him a look. "Next time, you can take my place and schmooze a bunch of old men who smell like cigars and whiskey."

"Nah, I'll stick to shovelin' shit, thanks," Colby laughed, tossing a card at me.

Ryan draped an arm over the back of the couch, fingers ghosting over my shoulder. "You did your part, sweetheart. Now you can relax."

"Damn right, I can." I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch as the bunkhouse buzzed around us.

"Did I tell you about the grizzly we saw out in the field?" I told him, "Huge, thought it was gonna eat a bus full of tourists."

"I don't think you mentioned that," Ryan said looking over at Colby, "Guess that will be the job tomorrow."

"Y'all aren't gonna kill it are you?" I looked up at him knowingly.

"No, baby," he said, though I knew he wasn't exactly being straight with me, "we'll just haze it off."

"You know it's illegal to kill a grizzly, they're endangered."

Ryan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We know, Alex. No one's lookin' to get in trouble with Fish and Wildlife."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Then swear to me you're not gonna do anything stupid."

Colby let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, Ryan, swear to your lady you ain't gonna go all Yellowstone on a damn bear."

Ryan shot him a glare before turning back to me, his expression softening. "I swear, sweetheart. We'll just run it off, make sure it don't come back near the cattle or the house."

I studied him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was telling me the full truth. "It's not the bear I'm worried about," I admitted. "It's you guys getting too close and one of you ending up on the wrong side of those claws."

Ryan smirked, pulling me a little closer. "I'll be careful, alright? Got too much to stick around for."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the way my heart fluttered at his words. "Damn right you do."

It wasn't long before I felt my lids start to grow heavy. I leaned in whispering in Ryan's ear, "I need to head home. Since you're so keen on being a gentleman, do you want to see me safely to my door? Or should I risk running into a bear out there?"

Ryan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Now you're just manipulatin' me."

I grinned. "Is it working?"

He sighed dramatically but stood, offering me his hand. "C'mon, princess, let's get you home before you start claimin' there's wolves, too."

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. "Wolves don't worry me," I teased. "It's the bears and cowboys I gotta watch out for."

Colby snickered. "She's got you figured out, man."

Ryan shot him a look but didn't argue, instead leading me toward the door. "Let's get you home, trouble."

—

I woke early, ready to train. The morning air was crisp, so I zipped up my tracksuit top and headed out. As I passed the corral, I stopped short—Beth was there with a horse.

She hadn't ridden since she was fourteen, not since the day we lost our mother. She blamed herself for it. A moment of fear, a spooked horse, and a chain reaction that ended in tragedy. After that, Beth swore off riding for good.

But today, there she was.

I slowed my steps, watching from a distance. She stood by the fence, one hand gripping the rail while the other reached out hesitantly toward him. The horse sniffed at her fingers, exhaling warm breath over them.

Beth Dutton was never hesitant about anything. But right now, she looked like she was standing on the edge of something she wasn't sure she could face.

I held back, giving her the space she needed. Over the years, I'd tried to encourage her, to tell her it was a fluke accident—that what happened wasn't her fault. But Beth never listened. Not to me. Not to anyone.

This had to be on Beth's terms.

So I stayed quiet and watched as she swung herself onto the horse, frustration etched into every movement. She took off around the corral, her posture rigid, her grip too tight. It was only seconds before she lost her balance and tumbled off the side, hitting the dirt hard.

Instinct screamed at me to go to her, to help her up, to show her how to do it right. But before I could take a step, the new hand beat me to it.

Maybe she'd listen to a stranger before she listened to her kid sister.

I watched as Beth climbed back into the saddle, this time easing into it, her body looser, her grip softer. She let the horse feel her, trust her, and in return, he carried her in a slow, steady walk around the corral. She was doing it. She was conquering her fear.

I should've been nothing but proud, but a small twinge of jealousy crept in when I caught sight of Dad watching her. The way he looked at her—like she was doing something miraculous, something no one had ever done before.

He never looked at me that way when I rode.

But I understood. For me, riding had always been second nature. For Beth, it was a battle won.

I decided against training that morning. The last thing I wanted was for Beth to think I was trying to show her up or steal her moment. This was hers—something long overdue—and she deserved to have it without distraction.

So instead, I led my horse back to his stall, running a hand down his neck before unclipping the lead. "Not today, boy," I murmured, giving him a reassuring pat.
Some victories were more important than practice.

—

I found myself lounging on the sofa in front of the fire, the house unusually quiet except for the rhythmic clicking of Jamie's keyboard. He sat across from me, hunched over his laptop, lost in whatever lawyer business consumed his time.

Dad had gone to town, and I knew—knew—that Beth and Jamie were keeping something about that trip from me. They weren't exactly subtle, speaking in half-sentences and exchanging glances when they thought I wasn't looking.

I stretched out, arms over my head, staring at the ceiling. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to beat it out of you?" I teased, though there was an edge to my voice.

Jamie barely looked up. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," I muttered, watching him closely. He was lying.

"Get your dirty sneakers off the couch by the way were you raised in a barn?" He teased trying to distract me.

"Yep, the same one you were," I retorted but put my feet on the floor, "Why has Dad gone to town? I know he's not at the livestock office."

Jamie smirked but didn't look up from his screen. "Probably handling business, like he always does."

I narrowed my eyes. "Bullshit. If it was just business, you and Beth wouldn't be acting all secretive about it."

Jamie sighed, rubbing his temple. "Look, it's nothing for you to worry about."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "Fine. But if whatever's going on comes back to bite us in the ass, don't expect me to play dumb."

Jamie finally looked up, his expression unreadable. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"You know I'm gonna keep bothering you and you'll never get any work done until you tell me," I said.

"You'd be amazed how focused I can be," he wasn't budging.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Jamie, come on. You know I'm just gonna wear you down eventually."

He glanced up briefly, then back at his screen. "You overestimate your powers of persuasion."

I smirked. "Do I? Because last time I checked, I got you to sign that permission slip for me to ride in my first rodeo when I was fourteen—after Dad said no."

"That was different," he muttered.

I tilted my head. "Was it? Or do you just not want to admit that I always get my way?"

Jamie sighed, fingers pausing over the keyboard. "It's complicated."

I raised an eyebrow. "Complicated how?"

He exhaled sharply. "Complicated as in—Dad doesn't want you involved. And for once, I actually agree with him."

That got my attention. "Now you have to tell me."

Jamie shook his head. "No, I really don't."

I narrowed my eyes. "Jamie—"

He cut me off. "Let it go, Alex."

I hated when he called me that in that tone—like he was older and wiser and actually had authority over me.

"I am an adult, you know. And maybe—just maybe—I could actually help this family," I said, crossing my arms.

Jamie barely looked up from his laptop. "You're not exactly acting like one," he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

I smirked. "Well, I'll find out eventually. And when I do, I won't talk to you for days. Maybe even weeks."

Jamie exhaled sharply, typing faster. "Can that 'not talking' start now, please?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms as I leaned back into the couch. "Real mature, Jamie. You know, for someone who spends all day buried in legal jargon, you sure do suck at negotiations."

He didn't look up from his laptop. "This isn't a negotiation. It's me telling you to mind your own damn business."

I narrowed my eyes. "Last I checked, this is my business. It's our family, Jamie. Whatever's going on, it affects me too."

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Alex, just trust me on this one, alright? Let it go."

I didn't want to play the card but Jamie had left me no choice.

"Lee would tell me," I looked at Jamie, "if he knew."

That's what finally broke him.

"Dad had cancer," he said. "He's at the doctor making sure it's all gone."

I sat still staring at my brother.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I felt like the world was crashing in on me again. I just got to a good place with my father. Was that just because I was going to lose him too?

"Dad didn't exactly tell any of us. Beth and I found out from the governor," he said, "he explicitly told us not to tell you guess he didn't want to see your face looking like that."

I was stunned, the words barely registering as they hit me. It felt like the ground beneath me had shifted, and suddenly, everything seemed so uncertain.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I repeated my voice barely above a whisper. The pain was there, raw and sharp. I'd spent so many years battling with my father, but we'd finally started to make peace. And now this? I couldn't process it.

Jamie sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated by the situation too. "Dad didn't want you to worry. He thought if you knew, you'd be distracted from everything else going on. We didn't know how to tell you... and he insisted we keep it quiet."

I couldn't look away from Jamie. "I would've wanted to be there for him, Jamie. I would've—"

But the words trailed off. What could I say? How could I process the fact that my father—my tough, unyielding father—had been facing something so big, and I hadn't even known?

"Don't let him know you found out like this," Jamie added quietly, his gaze softening as he finally met my eyes. "He didn't want you to feel like this... but now that you know... don't go making it harder on him."

"He's ok, now?" I asked chewing on my lip.

"That's what he said," Jamie responded trying to go back to his work.

"Jamie?"

"What?"

"Some guy is peaking in the window," I pointed.

"Stay here," he said turning to stare at the man. He moved quickly grabbing the rifle that was kept by the door.

I froze, eyes locked on the man peeking through the window. My heart raced as Jamie moved with a calmness that sent a chill through me. The tension in the room was thick, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

"Stay inside," Jamie said, his voice firm but quiet, before he slipped out of the room. I heard the door creak open as he stepped outside, rifle in hand, but my mind was already running wild.

Was it someone from the ranch? A trespasser? Or worse, someone with bad intentions?

I stayed by the window, barely daring to breathe as I watched Jamie confront the figure. The seconds dragged on, each one stretching my nerves thinner and thinner until Jamie finally gestured for me to stay put.

His face was unreadable, but the tension in his stance told me everything I needed to know: this wasn't a random passerby.

Jamie turned his back to the window, his eyes meeting mine through the glass as he spoke to whoever it was outside.

I let out the breath I'd been holding when the man outside threw a manila envelope at Jamie and stormed away.

"What is it?" I called out from the doorway.

"When did you become so nosy?" he walked back inside carrying the folder.

"Have you met me before?"

"Go to law school, then I'll explain it to you," he said. "I'll be back later. Stay out of trouble."

I raised an eyebrow at Jamie as he turned to leave, but my curiosity got the better of me. I stepped inside, looking at the manila envelope in his hand, my mind racing with questions.

"Are you really just going to leave me hanging?" I asked, following him toward the door.

"Don't make me regret telling you anything," Jamie warned, but the smirk on his face told me he wasn't entirely serious. "And for the record, no. You don't get to know until I read it first."

"Fine, lawyer boy," I shot back, crossing my arms. "But when you're done with your big mystery, I want answers."

Jamie shook his head, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a grin. "Stay out of trouble, Alex," he said again before heading out.

I watched him leave, waiting for the door to close before I looked back at the envelope. Whatever it was, it was about to turn the day upside down.

—-

I lounged back on the sofa keeping my feet off the seat as I thought about all the secrets that we kept from each other. The secrets my brothers and sister were keeping from me and Dad and the ones I was keeping from them and him. I suppose I couldn't blame them. None of us really knew the right way to talk to each other. The right thing to say, so we just didn't say anything and kept our secrets.

My secret though didn't affect just me. So it wasn't only mine to share.

Dad's boots on the hardwood brought me out of my thoughts, I sat up and looked at him. He looked like he was about to double over. I rushed to his side.

"Who told you?" he grumbled.

"Don't worry about it, what do you need, Dad?" I asked.

"I need you to keep an eye on Tate," he said, "he's in the kitchen."

"But what about you?"

"Just do what I said," he barked.

"OK, Dad," I responded.

I nodded, not questioning him further, and hurried toward the kitchen. The weight of the situation was heavy, and I could tell he was struggling more than he was letting on. Tate was sitting at the island wringing his wrists.

"What are you up to?" I asked.

"Don't know," he responded.

"You hungry?" I asked.

"I guess. What can you make?" Tate questioned.

"Frozen pizza," I opened the freezer, "we're all out of frozen pizza." I glanced at the stairs wondering if I should stay in the house or leave Dad to himself. Dad would hate me hanging all over him. So I decided to leave Dad to himself.

"You wanna go see what the cowboys are having for supper?"

"Sure," Tate said excitedly.

I grabbed my jacket and motioned for Tate to follow me as we made our way toward the bunkhouse. The sound of the cowboys' voices carried through the crisp evening air, a mix of laughter and casual conversation. They were always good for a meal, even if it was something simple. The smell of grilled meat hit us before we reached the barn door, and I could feel Tate's stomach rumbling in agreement.

"Look who's here," Colby greeted me with a grin.

"My culinary skills are well non-existent and I didn't want my nephew to starve. What do y'all have cooking?"

"Russlin' up some chili, got plenty," Lloyd said. "Grab you a bowl."

"What do you think, Tate?" I asked him.

He nodded and sat down in the chair. I filled him a bowl, probably more than an eight-year-old should have, and put it in front of him.

"Y'all have anything to drink besides beer and whiskey?" I asked.

"You sure you're not old enough to drink?" Lloyd teased Tate, who just laughed.

Colby dug way back into the back of the fridge and pulled out a Coke that had probably been there for years. I gave him a nod of thanks.

Tate's eyes lit up when he saw the Coke, and I couldn't help but chuckle at how easy it was to please him. "Thanks, Colby," I said as I took the can from him, popping the tab. "You could probably sell that Coke as a vintage item."

"Anything for my best friend's girl," Colby grinned, his voice thick with mock sincerity.

Tate took a big gulp, his eyes never leaving the chili. "This is gonna be awesome," he said, digging into his bowl.

I glanced across the bunkhouse catching a glance at my cowboy, his smile lit up the room as he was retelling a wild tale of the adventure he'd had that day.

"New guy," I called, "What's your name again?"

"Walker," he answered.

"You wanna liven the place up a little," I motioned to his guitar.

"I suppose I could do that," he opened the case and started playing an upbeat country song.

The sound of Walker's guitar filled the room, the upbeat melody bringing an infectious energy that had everyone turning their heads and tapping their feet. Even Tate stopped eating for a second, watching in awe as the new guy strummed with confidence.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. "Now that's what I call entertainment," I said, nodding along to the rhythm.

Ryan shot me a look, his smile never fading. "You just couldn't resist, could you?" he teased.

I shrugged, a playful glint in my eye. "A little music never hurt anyone. Besides, you could use some competition in the storytelling department."

Walker's fingers danced across the strings, his voice following suit as he started to sing.

"Dance with me?" I called over to Ryan as I stood from my chair. He grinned. I didn't actually know if could dance or if he would dance. But he surprised me slipping his arm around me, placing his hand gently on the small of my back and taking my hand, two-stepping with me around the bunkhouse.

I couldn't help but smile as he pulled me close, guiding me with surprising ease. His steps were steady, and I quickly fell into rhythm with him, the music spinning us around the room in a way that felt natural.

"Not bad for a cowboy," I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, his eyes locking onto mine. "Guess you could say I've picked up a few moves over the years."

I laughed softly, letting myself relax into his hold. His hand at my back was warm, reassuring, and for the first time in a while, I wasn't thinking about everything I'd been holding in. It was just the two of us, moving together to the beat, as the sounds of the bunkhouse and the music faded away into the background.

It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow down, and I knew there was nowhere else I'd rather be.