I sat in my pantsuit, legs crossed, doing my best to look somewhat interested as Jamie stood at the front of the room, his hand on the Bible, being sworn in as Montana's Attorney General. Dad sat beside me, his expression a perfect blend of boredom and barely concealed disdain. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his tie like it was a noose. If I was struggling to feign interest, he wasn't even trying.

I leaned slightly toward him. "You look thrilled."

His jaw twitched, and he barely moved his lips as he muttered, "I'd rather be branding cattle." After our fight with the bikers, Dad decided he didn't have time for camping anymore. Whatever moment of peace he'd been trying to carve out for himself was over. The real battle had come knocking, and he had no choice but to answer.

Market Equities—some big-ass fucking deal, according to Beth—had bought Dan Jenkins' old golf course. But they weren't looking to build another casino like the chief. No, they wanted something bigger. A whole goddamn city. High-rises, shopping centers, luxury developments. And right in the middle of it all? A massive airport, planted smack dab in the middle of our fields.

They weren't just trying to buy up land. They were coming for our land.

This was why we needed Jamie in that office. Not because we trusted him, not because we wanted him there—but because he was our best shot at making sure the law worked in our favor. That they couldn't just legislate us out of existence, steal our home right out from under us.

Whether Jamie saw it that way or not, it didn't matter. He was in the fight now, whether he liked it or not.

I sat back as the former attorney general and the governor continued the formalities. Jamie's voice was steady, polished—every bit the politician he always wanted to be. He was made for this.

And yet, as I watched him shake hands and smile for the camera, I couldn't help but wonder—was he still one of us? Or had he finally sold his soul for a seat at the table?

"Congratulations, Jamie," I told him, keeping my tone polite but distant as the last of the handshakes and photo ops wrapped up.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Thanks."

Dad barely spared him a glance before turning to the governor. "He's all yours now." His voice was dry, void of any warmth or pride. Just a simple statement of fact.

Jamie's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything. Maybe he expected this, maybe he didn't. Either way, he wasn't getting any fatherly approval today.

I gave Jamie a soft smile—not much, but enough to acknowledge the moment—before following Dad out of the governor's office. The heavy doors shut behind us, and with them, any illusion that Jamie still belonged to this family.

—-

The moment I arrived home, I wasted no time peeling off that stiff pantsuit, swapping it for my favorite pair of jeans and well-worn boots. Before I could think too much, I was already in the saddle, the familiar weight of my horse beneath me as we cut across the field.

Summer camp was over. The tents were coming down, the fires long burned out, and the quiet hum of everyday ranch life was settling back in. Still, I wanted to see it one last time—to get some sort of closure on the weeks I'd spent out here. Weeks where nothing mattered except the cattle in the pastures and the cowboy in my bed.

But now, with camp dismantling around me, I couldn't help but wonder—where did we go from here?

Would Ryan stay with me in the main house, waking up beside me each morning like he had out in camp? Or would he just assume his place back in the bunkhouse, like nothing had changed? Like we hadn't changed?

The thought unsettled me more than I cared to admit.

Tate wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled about leaving. Can't blame the kid. Camp life had a way of making everything feel simpler. No walls, no rules—just the land and the work.

"Do we have to go?" he asked, dragging his feet.

"Yeah," Monica sighed, ruffling his hair. "Your dad has to work in the city."

"The city sucks ass," Tate grumbled.

I pressed my lips together, trying to stifle my laughter as Monica shot him a look.

"Sucks what?" she asked, hands on her hips. "Where are you learning this stuff?"

I barely tilted my chin toward the cowboys taking down the last of the tents. She followed my gaze, instantly understanding.

Her scolding was cut short by Ryan's loud snort of disgust.

"Jesus, look at the size of that fucking spider," he muttered, stepping back.

My stomach turned. "Please tell me that was not in my fucking tent the whole time."

"Shit," Teeter chimed in, squinting at the monster of an arachnid. "You could saddle that sumbitch and ride his fucking ass back to the barn."

Tate burst out laughing. Monica sighed. And I decided maybe it was a good thing camp was over.

"Alex, you feel like getting your hands dirty?" Rip asked me.

"Guess it depends on what you had in mind," I pulled my ballcap down to shield my eyes from the sun.

"Gonna go run the fence line," he said.

I glanced back at the tent, eyeing the massive spider that had claimed it as its own. Better him than me.

"Alright," I nodded, adjusting my ballcap. "I'll go check fence lines with you. Long as that guy stays put."

Rip smirked, shaking his head. "He ain't on the payroll yet."

Jake and Ethan secured the last of the gear onto the pack mules while Lloyd and Teeter finished saddling a couple of gentle horses for Monica and Tate. The camp was nearly packed up, just a few more things left to haul out.

Ryan walked up beside me, resting a hand on my lower back. "You sure you wanna work? Could just ride back with me."

I smirked up at him. "That sounds a hell of a lot like an invitation to be lazy."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with a lazy day, baby."

"Maybe later." I gave his cheek a quick pat before heading toward Rip. "Let's get to it before I change my mind."

Rip chuckled, "Come on then, cowgirl. Let's see if you still remember how to fix a damn fence. Colby, Ryan you're with me too."

I couldn't think of anything better as I climbed on the back of my horse and trotted after him.

The sun hung high overhead as we rode out toward the fence line, the scent of dry grass and saddle leather thick in the air. The land stretched out before us, untouched and wide, the kind of space that made you feel both free and small all at once.

Ryan rode up beside me, his hand brushing against mine on the reins. "You ever think about just riding off and not coming back?"

I smirked, glancing over at him. "Depends. You coming with me?"

"Guess that depends on where you're headed," he replied, his easy grin tugging at my resolve.

"Anywhere that doesn't have a busted fence and trespassers tearing up my land."

Rip shot a look over his shoulder. "Y'all plan on actually workin' or just flirtin' all day?"

Ryan just smirked, tipping his hat back. "Can't help it, boss. She's distracting."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.

Colby rode ahead, scanning the fence line. "Over here," he called, pointing at a section where the wire was sagging, a few posts leaning at an awkward angle.

Rip sighed. "Alright, let's get to work. Colby, you tighten that wire. Ryan, help me brace that post. Alex, you grab the staples and hammer. We're fixin' this right."

I swung down off my horse, already reaching for the tools. "Yeah, yeah, I remember how to do this, Rip."

"Good," he said, smirking. "Then don't fuck it up."

Sagging fence repaired we climbed back on our horses to travel further down the line.

"What in the fuck?" Ryan exclaimed.

"Nothing good ever comes after you say that, cowboy," I followed his line of site. A heard of buffalo were roaming in the field on the other side of the fence.

"You think they wandered over from the park?" Colby asked.

"There's too many fences between here and there," I told him.

"Who are these son of a bitches?" Rip cocked his head in the direction of an older cowboy and a younger cowboy sitting on their horses. "Come on let's go."

"Hey!" Rip shouted over to them and they trotted their horsed closer. "Sporting club running buffalo now?"

"Sporting club ain't runnin' shit no more," the older cowboy said.

"Well, then whose are those?" Rip asked. I squinted my eyes looking out at them. Something familiar about him, I just couldn't place it.

"Don't matter 'cause they're not yours," the older cowboy said.

"You got permission to run them here?" Rip asked.

"No, I just decided to run some buffalo across a field for no fuckin' reason," he responded his weight shifting in his seat.

When the younger man looked my direction, I knew who he was.

I was fifteen when I met him in another life.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on the saddle horn.

Clint Fucking Morrow. A name I hadn't thought about in years, yet the moment his eyes met mine, it all came rushing back. The county fair, the stolen kisses behind the barns, the way he'd sweet-talked me into thinking I was his girl—until I wasn't. Until I found out I was just another name on a long list of girls who thought the same damn thing.

I swallowed hard, forcing the memory back down where it belonged. Where it had stayed buried for years.

Clint had been my first mistake—the kind you don't realize is a mistake until it's too late. I'd been young, stupid, and flattered by his attention, especially after Beth sent him packing. It hadn't taken long to realize he didn't want me, just the idea of me. Someone easier to impress, someone who didn't see through his bullshit.

And then there was the loft.

I shuddered. It wasn't something I liked to think about, let alone talk about. It sure as hell wasn't some sweet, stolen moment I'd wanted to remember. It was rough, rushed, and more about him getting what he wanted than about me at all. I'd walked away feeling used, ashamed, and sore in a way that had nothing to do with my body.

And now here he was, acting like we were old flames instead of a regret I'd spent years trying to forget. I never wanted to see him again. Guess never came sooner than I expected.

"I don't want my cattle getting brucellosis from those fuckers either," Rip said, eyes narrowing at Clint.

"Keep your cattle on your side of the fence," Clint snapped back, voice dripping with contempt.

Rip's gaze shifted to Wade, a warning flashing in his eyes. "You oughta tell your boy to watch the bass in his voice when he speaks to me."

"Boy?" Clint's face darkened, and without a moment's hesitation, he swung off his horse, jumping over the fence with a snarl. Rip followed suit, meeting him head-on, his fist landing square in Clint's face with a sickening crack that sent Clint reeling back to the other side of the fence.

Before anyone could catch their breath, Wade pulled a gun—of course, he did. Cowards never fight fair. "I'll blow your fucking brains all over this field," Wade spat, his hand shaking with barely contained rage.

"Then fucking do it," Rip's voice was cold, unflinching.

Ryan stepped forward, gun drawn, badge visible. "Reserve agent, Livestock Association." His voice rang out, calm and lethal. "I'll shoot you where you stand if you don't put that fucking pistol down."

Wade chuckled darkly. "Reserve agent? Duttons still running that scam?"

Rip's eyes never left him. "We don't know you."

Wade smirked. "You wouldn't. But your boss does. And his pretty little daughter over there." The way his gaze slid toward me made my skin crawl, but I held my ground. "Tell him Wade Morrow says 'hello.'"

My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "My dad wants what you took from him, you asshole."

Wade gave me a smirk that didn't touch his eyes. "We'll see each other again, real soon."

"You better hope I never see you again," Rip growled, taking a step closer to him, his fists clenched at his sides.

Wade turned his back, voice dripping with venom. "Next time, fight me fair."

Rip's voice was low, dangerous. "Shit, I'll fight you fair. Get down off your fucking horse."

"Save that for a rainy day," Wade shot back, turning his horse around.

Ryan kept his gun trained on Wade as he walked toward him, voice unwavering. "I need proof those buffalo are brucellosis-free."

"If you're man enough, come and get it," Wade sneered, flicking the reins of his horse. "Come on."

Clint, now a few paces behind his father, looked me up and down, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Still look good on horseback, Alex."

I couldn't hold back the anger any longer. "Fuck you, Clint." I shot back, my voice sharp.

Wade and Clint spurred their horses, riding off with one last glance at us, leaving the field behind them in unsettling silence.

Colby broke the tension. "Why would they leave buffalo here?" he asked, staring out at the herd, his eyes darting to the fence. "They're gonna tear this place apart."

"I think that's the idea," I muttered, my stomach twisting.

Ryan was still watching me, his gaze sharp but cautious. "Alex," he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. "What the hell happened with him?"

I shook my head, brushing the thought aside. "Nothing worth talking about."

Rip let out a frustrated grunt. "Well, that 'nothing' just rolled up with a damn buffalo herd. So if there's somethin' we need to know, now's the time."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling just slightly. "Clint's just a cocky little shit who thinks he's bigger than he is. He used to hang around the ranch when we were kids, thinking he was something special." I glanced at Rip, my voice quieter as I added, "Wade used to work at the ranch."

Rip's expression darkened. "That fucker went to prison, didn't he?"

I nodded, feeling a flicker of heat rise in my chest. "For takin' what no hand should take, especially when they," I patted my chest, making sure Rip understood exactly what I meant, "are supposed to be all in. And Clint's just as slimy as he was back then."

Ryan's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Did he hurt you?"

The question hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn't the first time someone had asked me that, but this was different. I met his eyes, the concern there so raw and genuine it made my chest tighten. He wasn't just asking out of curiosity; he already knew something was off.

I exhaled through my nose, trying to keep my voice steady. "Not in the way you mean."

Ryan's fingers tightened around the reins, his gaze not leaving me. I could tell that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, but he held his ground. For now.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy. Neither of us said anything else, but it felt like the words we weren't speaking hung in the air.

—-

I walked into the bunkhouse, the familiar scent of sweat and leather mixing with the heavy scent of dust. The noise of the day—the confrontation with Wade and Clint, the damn buffalo, the weight of it all—felt like it was closing in on me. I just needed a moment to let it all go.

But the second I stepped through the door, the music hit me like a wave. The sound of a country song—something with a good beat—poured out of the bunkhouse, filling the space. My body relaxed a little as the chaotic day faded into the background.

And then I saw him.

Jimmy was back.

I stopped, momentarily stunned, before a wide grin spread across my face. "Laramie? What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise and excitement.

She leaned back against the counter, her signature playful grin lighting up her face. "When Mia told me her new boyfriend worked at the Yellowstone," she said, "I knew I had to come."

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing. I walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's been too damn long," I said, squeezing her tightly.

"I know," Laramie replied, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "It's been almost two years since you left the rodeo circuit."

"Has it really been that long?" It dawned on me all that had happened since I came home to take a break from the rodeo and be with my family. The last couple of years had flown by in a blur, and I hadn't even realized how much had changed until now.

"It has been too fucking long, girl," I exclaimed, my hands on her shoulders as I pulled back to look at her. The sight of my old friend, standing there in front of me, felt like a piece of the past I didn't realize I'd missed.

"We keep running into your old friends everywhere today," Colby chuckled from the corner, clearly amused at the unexpected reunion.

"We helped ourselves to your beer," the dark-haired woman—who I guessed was Mia, Jimmy's new girlfriend—said with a mischievous grin. "I hope you don't mind."

I raised an eyebrow. I'd need to figure out that story later, but for now, I could appreciate her boldness. "We can see that," Colby said, rolling his eyes. "They come with you, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, this was not my idea," Jimmy said, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Fuck it," Teeter suddenly announced, throwing her hands in the air before starting to dance. "It's Friday night somewhere."

"No, today is Friday," Colby muttered. "It's Friday right now."

"Then Friday's your lucky fucking day," Teeter shot back, shimmying her hips in Colby's direction with a grin that practically begged for a reaction.

I couldn't help but smirk at the back-and-forth between the two of them. "She's growing on you, isn't she?" I cocked a brow at Colby, unable to resist teasing him.

"She's not growing on me," Colby shot back, but I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice. "Okay, fine. She's got a couple of moves and stuff. It's kinda like she's a dancer. She studied."

"Where in the fuck did she study dancing?" Ryan exclaimed, his eyes wide. "The fucking sheepers' cabin?"

Laramie swayed over to Lloyd, her presence always commanding attention. I smirked again, watching as she charmed him like she always did. Same girl, new place.

"Fucking barrel racers," Jake muttered under his breath, clearly trying to suppress his laughter.

"You're getting the joke now, aren't you, Jimmy?" Ryan chuckled, shooting a glance toward Jimmy as he watched Laramie work her magic.

"So which one is yours?" Laramie asked with a coy smile, her eyes scanning the room, landing on each cowboy like they were potential contenders.

"That one," I motioned toward Ryan, a proud grin on my face.

Laramie's eyes immediately followed my gesture, and she took her time scanning his body, her smile widening as she took in the view. "I can see why you waited around for that one," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

I shot her a playful glare, but there was no mistaking the pride I felt in the way she looked at him. He was mine, and damn proud of it.

Ryan pulled me into his lap, a grin tugging at his lips. "Your friend is interesting."

"You have no idea," I smiled back, teasing him a little as I settled in.

Laramie, ever the hostess, lined up some shots on the table and passed them around. The energy in the room was buzzing, everyone finding their groove as the night wore on.

"I don't understand," Ryan shouted over the noise, his voice tinged with confusion as he watched Jimmy getting cozy with Mia.

"Honestly, man, neither do I," Jimmy replied, not even looking up from where he was sharing a kiss with Mia.

Ryan let out a low whistle. "That is shocking to me," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

I couldn't help but laugh at Ryan's surprise. "What's wrong, cowboy? It's like you've never seen two people dumb and in love."

"We're not like that are we?" he asked.

"Yes, you are fucking worse," Colby called over.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at Colby's comment, but before he could respond, I turned toward him and pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing him for a moment. The kiss was quick, but enough to remind him of where we were—together, in this mess of a world we'd carved out.

Colby whistled, "God, you two are like a walking Hallmark movie."

Ryan pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Colby. "You know, I'm starting to think Colby's the real romantic here."

"Don't flatter yourself," Colby shot back with a grin, taking a swig of his drink. "I'm just here for the entertainment."

I watched as Teeter danced at him. Not with him but at him. And he was watching her intently, "Looks like you are enjoying a front-row seat."

Colby groaned but still kept his eyes glued on the sway of Teeter's hips.

I raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold. "Seems like Colby's getting the best show of the night," I teased, leaning in toward Ryan.

Ryan smirked, his gaze flicking between me and Colby. "I think Colby's got a thing for Teeter's... 'style.'"

Colby groaned again, clearly trying to stay focused on whatever conversation he was having with Jimmy, but his eyes kept drifting back to Teeter's wild, unrestrained dance moves. "She's gonna break something," he muttered, though there was a definite hint of admiration in his voice.

"Can't deny it, can you?" I chuckled, leaning back against Ryan. "You're more interested in Teeter's moves than you care to admit."

Colby shot me a side glance but said nothing, instead opting to take another swig of his drink, pretending like he wasn't entirely absorbed in the situation. But the way his eyes followed Teeter's every step made it obvious—he was hooked.

Teeter, for her part, was oblivious to Colby's growing fascination, completely lost in the music as she spun and swayed. But every time her gaze met his, there was a playful glint in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"You know," I whispered to Ryan, "I think Colby's about to fall hard."

Ryan snorted, watching Colby shift uncomfortably in his seat. "He might need a crash course in how to handle Teeter before it gets messy."

I just shook my head, amused by how easily Colby was falling for her chaotic energy. "It's gonna be fun watching him try."