"Baby, I could just make it normal," Ryan said, eyeing me as I heated water over the campfire. His impatience was clear, but I ignored it, focused on my task.

Instead of using the camp coffee pot, I insisted on making coffee with my French press.

"It's so much better this way," I told him, scooping the coarse grounds into the press and pouring the steaming water over the top. "Richer, more flavor." I stirred it slightly before placing the lid on, letting it steep.

Behind me, I could feel Ryan shifting, his patience thinning. "It may be better," he grumbled, "but it takes fucking forever."

I glanced up at him, my eyes still twinkling from the intensity of our night. "Sometimes taking your time," I murmured, pressing the plunger down slowly, "makes it so much better."

I filled his cup and handed it to him. He took it, bringing it to his lips for a long, appreciative drink.

"Better?" I asked, glancing up at him as I poured myself a cup.

Ryan took another sip, then exhaled through his nose. "Alright, it's good," he admitted, though the reluctance in his voice made me grin. "But you can't keep my caffeine from me, baby."

I stood, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "I know, cowboy," I murmured against his skin. "I always make it worth the wait."

"I'll wait forever for you," he murmured, giving my hip a gentle squeeze. "But not my coffee. Can't function without it."

I chuckled, leaning into the solid warmth of his presence. "I noticed," I teased, watching as the rest of the camp stirred to life around us—the crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices, the soft clink of tin cups.

Ryan took another slow sip, his free hand slipping around my waist, holding me close. "Good," he said, his breath warm against my hair. "Because withholding caffeine? That's just cruel, baby."

I smirked, tilting my head to meet his gaze. "Don't worry, cowboy," I promised. "I won't hold out on you again."

"Y'all have coffee?" Colby's voice rang out from across camp, his tent flap rustling as he stepped outside, looking half-asleep.

"Yeah, just finished making it," I said, reaching for his cup. I poured the rich, dark brew and handed it over.

Colby took a long swallow, then let out a satisfied sigh. "Damn, that's good."

Ryan snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, you didn't have to wait twenty minutes while she made it."

I shot him a playful glare. "Patience is a virtue, cowboy."

"Not before coffee, it ain't," Ryan muttered, taking another sip from his own cup.

"Noted," I started gathering up empty plates and bowls from the night before, "if one of you wouldn't mind filling up that container with water I can get started on these."

Colby arched a brow, "Didn't think you'd get domesticated so soon, Alex."

"It's just dishes, but if you're keen on doing them, I can go get the water," I responded.

Colby smirked, lifting his cup to his lips. "Nah, I think watching you play house is more entertaining."

I rolled my eyes, stacking the last of the plates. "It's just dishes, Colby, not a wedding ring." I jerked my chin toward the water container. "But if you're so fascinated, why don't you grab the water while I scrub?"

Ryan chuckled, stretching out his legs. "Careful, Colby. She'll have you fetching firewood next."

Colby groaned but grabbed the container anyway. "Fine, fine. But if I come back and you're knitting socks, I'm out."

"Though now that you mention it," I glanced up at Ryan, "I think we do need some more firewood."

"Alright, baby, I deserve that one," he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and followed after his friend.

I smiled to myself as I watched them go, shaking my head. The camp was starting to feel like home in a way I hadn't expected. The easy banter, the quiet moments, the way Ryan kissed me like it was second nature—it all settled something deep inside me.

As I got to work scrubbing the dishes, I heard footsteps approaching. Tate plopped down on a nearby log, watching me with a curious expression.

"You always do the dishes?" he asked.

I smirked. "Only when I'm trying to prove a point."

Tate tilted his head. "What point?"

"Not sure really," I told him, "you wanna help me? I'll wash, you dry?"

"Alright," he took the dripping dish from me and a towel and wiped it down.

"Where's Grandpa?" I asked him. Tate pointed at my father with his phone to his ear.

"Work follows him everywhere," he said.

"Yep, he doesn't get to relax as much as he should," I told him. I watched my father climb up a hill trying to get a better signal.

"Damn it," Dad shouted then looked down at his phone with no signal then back down at the camp. "Hey," he called down to the hands who were carrying back containers of water and arms full of firewood, "I want everything up here. The tents the fire, the whole goddamn everything."

I shook my head and smiled, "Now he'll finally relax."

Tate let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he passed me another dish. "You think moving camp up there is gonna make him relax?"

I shrugged, scrubbing the bowl in my hands. "Maybe not, but at least he won't be pacing around here cursing at his phone."

We both glanced up at Dad, who was already barking orders, pointing at different spots on the ridge like he was plotting a battlefield strategy.

"Should we tell him that spot's probably got worse reception?" Tate mused.

I snorted. "I think that's the point."

Tate grinned, drying the last dish. "Guess that means we don't have to do anything till they move everything, huh?"

I set the pot aside and ruffled his hair. "Smart kid."

For a moment, we just stood there, watching the chaos unfold as the wranglers muttered under their breath and started hauling supplies uphill.

Ryan walked past, shaking his head. "Your dad's got us moving camp 'cause his phone don't work?"

"Yep," I smirked.

He sighed dramatically, then leaned in and murmured, "You and me are sleeping in the same tent no matter where it ends up, right?"

I bit back a smile. "Wouldn't have it any other way, cowboy."

After everything was moved up the ridge, I walked over to my father's tent with Tate and took a seat beside them, watching as the hands worked to set up camp again.

"Is this a better camp, Grandpa?" Tate asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Dad glanced down at his phone, pressing the screen a few times before sighing. "Let's see… still no damn signal." He tucked it away with a nod. "Yep, this camp is much better."

I chuckled, stretching my legs out in front of me. "For the record, my phone still has a signal."

Dad shot me a look. "If they call you looking for me, you don't know me. You never saw me."

I smirked, raising a hand in mock solemnity. "Won't tell a soul."

I turned at the sound of hooves pounding against the earth, watching as Jake barreled into camp on horseback, dust kicking up in his wake.

"What in the hell?" I muttered, spotting Monica and Rip trailing not far behind him.

"Momma!" Tate took off running toward her.

Monica barely had time to dismount before Tate wrapped his arms around her. "Look at you, baby! You having fun?" she asked, brushing his hair back.

"Yeah! All we do is fish and eat, fish and eat," he said excitedly. "But I helped Alex with the dishes too!"

"No better medicine," Dad remarked, his gaze shifting to me. "Where's your brother?"

I shrugged. "Last I saw, he was still out looking for wolves. Said he heard some last night while he was keeping watch."

Monica's expression tightened. "That sounds ominous. Which way did he go?"

I pointed in the direction Kayce had gone, and without another word, Monica followed.

Rip's expression made it clear—he wanted a private word with my father. Catching the silent request, I gave him a nod and took the reins of the pack mule, leading it toward the chuck wagon to unload.

While Dad, Kayce, and Ryan had been searching for me and Tate, something else had happened—something that had given Rip the one thing he'd always wanted. My father had finally called him son. And along with that, he'd given him my grandpa's old cabin.

But that wasn't the gift that truly mattered.

I'd always seen Rip as another brother. A meaner brother—one who wouldn't cave to me like Lee or Jamie did—but a brother nonetheless. He looked out for me just as fiercely, and I knew, without a doubt, he'd bleed for this family just as much as any of us.

"You know, out here looks good on you," Lloyd said as he helped me unload the mule.

"It's simple," I admitted, brushing dust off my jeans. "Easy. I don't have to think too much." My gaze drifted to the cattle grazing in the open field. "The only predators we have to worry about here are wolves and bears. Not people."

Lloyd gave a slow nod, the kind that came from years of understanding things he couldn't always put into words. "Yeah… you'll figure out a way to make it work, in time."

I exhaled, nodding. "But if any of you puts a washtub out by my tent and expects me to do laundry, I'm done."

Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head. "Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'. I'd prefer the Maytag back at the bunkhouse myself."

I sat at the picnic table surrounded by the people who meant the most to me—Ryan, the ranch hands, my father, my brother, his wife, and their son. They weren't just family. They were home.

The air was crisp with the scent of campfire smoke and fresh earth, laughter mixing with the sounds of the cattle settling for the night. I couldn't think of a more perfect evening.

"Ryan, you have something…" I gestured toward his chin, biting back a smile as I resisted the urge to wipe away the streak of butter that had dribbled from his bite of corn.

Monica caught the moment and smirked knowingly. "It's hard at first," she said, dabbing a napkin against Kayce's chin like it was second nature. "Keeping yourself from taking care of them. But once you find your rhythm, it just seems to work out."

Ryan grinned at me, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before taking another bite. I shook my head with a chuckle, knowing Monica was right. Some habits were hard to break—especially when love made them second nature.

"Anymore biscuits?" Tate asked walking over to my father.

"There you go," Dad plopped a biscuit on Tate's plate. He held his plate out for another. Dad plopped a second one down.

"I'm gonna need more than that," Tate grinned.

"You're just like your father," Dad laughed, "You know my wife used to make two Dutch ovens full of biscuits one for him and one for the rest of us. He'd stand by the fire and ask 'How long?' and she'd say 'Five more minutes'. Which just meant soon to my wife, it didn't mean five minutes. He'd stomp off and pout and then come back and ask again, that shit would go on for an hour. When they were finally ready he'd take a plate of biscuits and nothing else, and just go at it with both hands."

Ryan chuckled at the story, lacing his fingers with mine.

"They were really good," Kayce said in his defense.

"You went after them like a wild dog," I laughed.

"Why you laughing they were good?" Kayce said.

"After an hour of standing over that Dutch oven, she'd sit beside me, her hair a mess, smelling like smoke, madder than hell cause she hated making those damn biscuits," Dad continued, "I looked at her and said, 'Sweetheart, he'll eat anything you put in front of him.' Your mom looked at me and said, 'I know. If I don't make 'em, I can't watch him eat 'em.' Then she went to the tent laid down, and fell asleep. We were branding so I was up before her."

I felt the sting in my eyes, knowing exactly which camping trip Dad was remembering. "I had to get back to the barn to clean the stalls," I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion. "Had to take care of my horse, 'cause I promised her—and you—that I'd do it every morning if you got me that horse."

Dad exhaled deeply and looked down at his hands, his calloused fingers running over the rim of his tin cup. "That was the last thing she ever said to me."

The air around the campfire seemed to still as Dad's words settled over us. The warmth of the flames flickered against his face, but his eyes were lost in a memory.

Ryan gave my hand a gentle squeeze, grounding me as the memory of my mother washed over me. I could still picture her—tired, covered in flour and smoke, but always watching over us, always making sure we were taken care of.

Dad stood, not wanting the men to see him get emotional, and walked to his tent.

Silence stretched between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. Just full of things we couldn't say.

Ryan didn't let go of my hand.

—-

I pulled a towel and a change of clothes from my bag. Balancing them on one arm while I carried my toiletry bag in the other. I stepped out of the tent into Ryan's chest.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" He eyed the bundle in my arms.

"Down to the river, I need a bath," I told him.

His brow cocked and his lips curved into a smirk, "I think you need someone to keep watch. Don't you?"

I couldn't help but smile at his suggestion. "You think you're the man for the job?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

Ryan's smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his hand brushing against the towel in my arms. "I know I am," he said, his voice low and confident. "After all, someone has to make sure you're safe... and distracted."

I let out a soft laugh, my heart quickening as I met his gaze. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."

We walked through the trees to a secluded section of the river. I felt his gaze on me when I slipped my shirt off and toed out of my boots. I turned toward him, meeting his eyes as I slowly slipped out of my jeans and tossed them in the growing pile on the ground.

"You just gonna watch, cowboy?" A coy smile tugged at my lips as I stepped back into the water.

Ryan's gaze lingered on me, his eyes darkening as he watched every movement. He took a step forward, his lips curling into a slow, appreciative smile. "I might be content just watching… but I think you'd rather have me join you."

He reached down, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off, the sound of the fabric brushing against his skin sending a thrill through me. He stepped into the water, his body close to mine now, the cool river water at our feet as his eyes never left mine.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, his body just inches from mine. The heat between us was undeniable, even with the coolness of the river around us.

"Much better," I murmured, my hands resting on his waist as I guided us deeper into the water. My eyes stayed locked on his, the tension thick between us.

As the river lapped around our waists, he cupped the back of my neck, his touch both firm and tender. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine, teasing, savoring the moment. My breath hitched, anticipation curling through me like wildfire.

I slipped my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against me, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath against my skin. My tongue traced his lower lip, a silent plea for more, for deeper.

He smirked against my lips, teasing, savoring the control he had over me. His hands roamed slowly, deliberately, mapping every curve as if committing me to memory. The cool water swirled around us, a stark contrast to the heat building between our bodies.

Ryan's hands roamed my body as his lips moved against mine, heat coiling between us as the cool water surrounded us. I let out a breathy sigh, threading my fingers through his damp hair, pulling him impossibly closer—

"For fuck's sake."

I jolted, turning my head to find Kayce standing on the riverbank, arms crossed, looking about two seconds away from throwing a rock at Ryan's head.

"Seriously?" I groaned.

"Yeah, seriously. Y'all couldn't find a better place to do this?" Kayce scowled. "What if it wasn't me walking up?"

Ryan huffed, clearly unbothered. "Then they would've gotten one hell of a show."

As though the embarrassment wasn't enough, I heard more voices behind my brother. Colby, Jimmy, and Jake emerged from the woods, each with a towel tossed over their shoulders.

A slow smirk spread over Colby's face as he caught us almost in the act.

Colby let out a low whistle, crossing his arms. "Well, damn. If I knew bath time came with a live performance, I'd have shown up sooner."

Jimmy, looking anywhere but at us, muttered, "I told y'all we should've come later."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, but then we would've missed all the fun."

Ryan just smirked, "You boys need somethin', or you just here to gawk?"

Kayce's scowl deepened as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "We came down to wash up. Didn't realize we needed to reserve the damn river."

I groaned, my grip tightening around Ryan as I tried to make myself as small as possible behind him. My brother hadn't seen me this exposed since we were kids, and I'd be happy if that streak continued. "Could y'all at least turn around?"

Colby chuckled but raised his hands in surrender. "Relax, darlin', we ain't lookin'. Ain't none of us got a death wish."

Kayce muttered something under his breath before glaring at Ryan. "You. Out. Now."

Ryan sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "I ain't done yet."

"You are now." Kayce's tone left no room for argument.

Ryan grumbled but waded toward the riverbank, grabbing his clothes. I took the opportunity to duck lower in the water, waiting for the guys to turn around.

Colby smirked at Ryan. "For the record, man, you should've picked a more private spot."

Ryan shot him a grin. "For the record, we were doin' just fine till y'all showed up."

Colby laughed, and Kayce just shook his head, muttering, "Unbelievable."

"Can y'all please leave now? I wasn't planning on spending the whole summer in this river," I grumbled.

"We're going, we're going," Colby chuckled, "by the way Alex, nice tattoo."

"I thought you said you weren't looking, you dick," I wrapped my arms around my body as I watched them leave. I waited a couple minutes to make sure it was safe before stepping out of the water.

Ryan smirked as he handed me his shirt, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Didn't think you wanted to show off your tattoo to the whole damn bunkhouse, baby."

I snatched the shirt from his hands and yanked it over my head. "Yeah, well, neither did I." I shot a glare in the direction Colby and the others had disappeared. "Jackasses."

Ryan chuckled, stepping closer and sliding his hands over my hips. "I don't mind sharing a little—" His voice dipped lower as he leaned in. "—but that one? That one's mine."

I rolled my eyes, but my stomach flipped at the possessive edge in his tone. "Pretty sure you're the only one who's actually gotten to study it."

"Damn right." He pressed a lingering kiss to my temple before grabbing the rest of our clothes. "Now let's get back before your brother decides to drown me for real."

I sighed, casting one last glance at the river before following him. "Yeah, I'd rather not explain to Dad why Kayce's dragging your body out of the water." I sighed, slipping my hand into his as we made our way back toward camp. "I guess I gotta get up at three a.m. to take a bath in peace around here."

Ryan chuckled, his fingers lacing with mine. "Can I still keep watch?" His smirk was all mischief, and I could already see where his thoughts were headed.

I shot him a knowing look. "I think you get too distracted keeping watch."

He pulled me to a stop, tugging me flush against him. "Distracted? Nah. I'm just real thorough." His lips brushed against my ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Gotta make sure no one sneaks up on you… or gets too good a look."

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I nudged him playfully. "You mean like half the damn bunkhouse?"

Ryan sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Yeah, that was unfortunate." He grinned. "But on the bright side, now they all know you're mine."

I scoffed. "Oh, please. They already knew."

"Damn right they did," he murmured, squeezing my hand before leading me the rest of the way back to camp.

—-

I dipped my brush into the paint, focusing on my strokes along the wooden planks of the new barn. The embarrassment of the morning had finally faded, and I was grateful for the distraction of work. Colby and Ryan were up on the roof with the new girl. Rip's attempt at diversity in the bunkhouse.

I didn't mind having another woman in the bunkhouse. It kept them honest. I missed Avery, though, and wondered what happened to her. I just wanted someone with a pair of boobs that I could converse with that wasn't my sister.

"Y'all doing alright up there?" I called up the ladder.

"Yeah, baby," Ryan called back, "I'm coming down." I took a few steps back as I watched him. Damn, even all sweaty and covered in paint he was sexy. He grinned seeing how I was admiring him. "You like what you see?"

"I'm just making sure you don't fall," I smirked. "I don't think we'd be able to find another hand that has your qualifications."

"Is that right?" his eyes met mine with a playful glint in them as he gripped my hips to pull me closer.

"You just put paint all over my ass didn't you?"

Ryan's grin widened. "Maybe."

I twisted my neck, trying to get a look at the damage. A fresh smear of red paint decorated the seat of my jeans. "You are such an ass," I groaned, but I didn't pull away.

Ryan laughed, sliding his hands up to my waist. "C'mon, you wear it well."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my brush and swiping it across his arm, leaving a streak of red against his tan skin. "Now we match."

He looked down at his arm, then back at me, shaking his head with a smirk. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that."

Before I could react, his fingers dug into my ribs, sending me into a fit of laughter as I squirmed in his grasp.

"Alright, lovebirds, break it up before you fall face-first into the paint," Rip called from across the barn.

I shoved at Ryan's chest, still laughing, and reached for my brush again. "You better get back up there and finish the roof before Colby starts complaining."

Ryan leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before grabbing his ladder. "Yes, ma'am."

I watched him climb, shaking my head with a smirk before turning my attention back to my work. My brush had barely touched the wood before Jimmy's voice cut through the afternoon heat.

Jimmy wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing toward the sun. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Think it's about noon. You got somewhere to be?"

"The qualifier in Livingston starts at three." His voice held that mix of nerves and excitement I recognized all too well.

I paused, turning to face him. "You got your pro card already?"

Jimmy shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not yet. That's what this is for. If I place high enough, I can apply for it."

I nodded, setting my brush down. "You nervous?"

He huffed out a laugh. "Shit, yeah. But I gotta do it sometime, right?"

A slow smile spread across my face. "Damn right you do. You've been busting your ass for this." I nudged his shoulder. "You got this, Jimmy."

He grinned, a little steadier now. "Thanks, Alex."

Teeter glanced down from the roof, one hand resting on her hip as she chewed the inside of her cheek. How she got up there, Lord only knows.

"What's your name again?" I called up to her, shading my eyes from the sun.

Her thick twang rang out in response. "Teeter."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Alex," I said, leaning against the ladder propped against the barn.

The guys had warned me she was hard to understand, but I'd rodeoed enough in Texas to recognize the rhythm of her speech. It wasn't all that difficult if you just listened.

Teeter squinted down at me, studying me like she was sizing me up. "You new too?"

I smirked. "Nah, I just took a break."

She nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer, then went right back to painting something on the roof like our conversation never happened.

I glanced at Jimmy, who was shifting on his feet, clearly unsure if he should stick around or make a run for it.

"If we're done here, is it okay if I head out?" Jimmy called over to Rip, trying to sound casual.

Rip barely spared him a glance. "What's the matter? I don't pay you enough?"

Before Jimmy could stammer out a response, Dad cut in, his voice stern. "It's a rough way to make a living, Jimmy. You break your arm chasing buckles, it's hard to stay on any man's payroll."

Jimmy let out a dry laugh. "Yes, sir."

I crossed my arms and looked at Dad. "I've watched him. He can really sit a bronc."

Dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as Jamie pulled up in his truck, looking like he had bad news written all over him.

"There goes the day," he muttered under his breath.

"Governor wants to see us," Jamie called out from his truck.

"Governor wants to see you, I'm retired and enjoying it," Dad replied.

"She said both of us," Jamie responded.

"If it's that important she can come see me," Dad said, "tell her I'll be at the rodeo in Livingston. I'm sure her voters would enjoy watching her partake in something they actually care about." He left Jamie and walked back to the barn, "Rip decide who's staying with the herd tonight. I'm gonna take this outfit to town and we're gonna go watch Jimmy rodeo."

I smiled at Jimmy, "I knew he'd crack."

"Hey Teeter," Rip called up, "you're with the herd tonight. Colby, you go with her."

I suppressed a laugh, "That is what I call karma."

Colby groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as Teeter grinned down at him from the barn roof. "Yeah, well, karma's a bitch," he muttered.

I smirked.

"Who am I to come between you and nature, Colby?" Ryan chuckled.

"Hey, who's on top?" Jimmy chimed in, motioning between Colby and Teeter.

Ryan didn't miss a beat. "I don't think there's any debate about that."

The rest of us laughed while Colby shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

"Alright, we're gonna go get cleaned up and head into town," Ryan announced, tossing an arm around my shoulders. "You have a great night, buddy. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I shot Ryan a knowing look, lips curling in amusement. "That leaves your options wide open," I teased. "There's not a lot he won't do."

Colby sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "I want all three of you just to drop dead, right in front of me. That would be a dream."

I smirked. "Oh, I think you need to make room for new dreams."

"Alright, y'all have fun," Jimmy called up to Teeter. "Take care of our friend, okay? And go slow—he's a romantic."

Teeter leaned over the edge of the barn roof, squinting down at him. "Hey, you look like a plucked motherfuckin' chicken. Boc, boc, boc!"

I bit my lip to hold in my laugh as Jimmy rolled his eyes.

Dad shook his head, muttering, "That one's got a real mouth on her."

I grinned. "I like her."

—

I stood in the stands, hat over my heart listening to the national anthem played over the arena speakers. It felt different being in the stands and not on the sidelines getting ready to perform.

"Let's give a round of applause to tonight's flag rider," the voice-over speaker said. "It looks like we have two-time National Trick Riding Champion, Alex Dutton, in the stands tonight. Why don't you give the fans a wave, Alex?"

A ripple of applause spread through the crowd as the spotlight swung toward me. I lifted my hat slightly and gave a small wave, feeling the eyes of the entire arena on me. It was a different kind of attention than I was used to—less adrenaline, more nostalgia.

Ryan nudged me with a grin. "They still love you, baby."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Guess so." But inside, a familiar itch stirred—the longing for the rush, the thrill of the ride.

I sat back down, my fingers absently running along the brim of my hat. It felt strange being here as just a spectator. The dirt of the arena called to me like an old friend, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could resist answering.

"Don't let the attention go to your head, little sister," Beth gave me a smirk as she attempted to hold Rip's hand.

He held back until my Dad said, "You can hold her damn hand, Rip. Y'all must think I'm the dumbest man in the valley."

"You wanna grab a beer before Jimmy is up?" I asked Ryan. He gave me a nod, "Dad? Y'all want anything."

"I'll take a beer," Kayce added, glancing at Dad.

Beth smirked. "Get me one too."

Rip shot her a look. "Thought you were drinkin' whiskey tonight?"

"I can do both, baby." She winked.

Dad shook his head. "Grab me one too."

"You got it," I nodded before nudging Ryan. "Come on, cowboy, let's go before the line's wrapped around the damn fairgrounds."

As we wove through the crowd, Ryan leaned in. "You alright?"

I sighed, glancing back at the arena. "Yeah. Just feels different bein' in the stands instead of back there gettin' ready to ride."

Ryan wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "Ain't no way you're done for good, baby. You'll be back out there soon enough."

I smirked, bumping him with my hip. "That right?"

"Hell yeah." He grinned. "It's in your blood."

I let his words sit with me as we reached the concession stand, the sounds of the rodeo alive all around us. Maybe he was right.

I ordered a round of beers for our group. I heard a small voice behind me, "Miss Dutton, can I get a picture with you?"

"Sure, sweetheart," I gave the attendant my card and knelt down, "What's your name?"

"My name's Edith, but I go by Eddi, 'cause it sounds so old fashion," she told me.

"I bet your mom and dad gave you that name 'cause it belongs to someone important in your family, huh?" I said. She nodded. "Guess what, I'm gonna tell you a secret, my first name is Elsa."

"Like the Frozen lady?" she asked.

"Well I guess yeah, but I was named after the first person in our family to come to the valley," I told her, "Don't give your parents a hard time for giving you an old name. Old names have meaning."

Eddi nodded thoughtfully. "Okay… but I still like Eddi better."

I chuckled. "That's fair. You get to make it your own."

Her mom snapped the picture, and Eddi grinned up at me. "I wanna ride like you someday."

I smiled, adjusting the brim of my hat. "Then you gotta promise me something."

"What?"

"Never let anyone tell you that you can't."

Her little face lit up. "I won't!"

Ryan handed me the beers, smirking. "Already recruitin' the next generation?"

I watched Eddi run back to her mom, excitement in her step. "Maybe. Someone's gotta keep the tradition alive."

I bought the line that had been waiting behind me a round of beers, "Sorry." I muttered as Ryan and I gathered our order to take back to the stands.

"If you tell anyone in the bunkhouse my first name is Elsa," I looked up at Ryan as he carried the tray of drinks, "you'll be sleeping alone."

"My lips are sealed, baby," he replied.

I shot him a playful look. "Good, because I'm not kidding."

Ryan gave me a wink as he passed the tray to me. "I wouldn't dream of it. Your secret's safe with me."

We made our way back to the stands, the noise of the crowd buzzing around us. The air felt different—alive with excitement—but the thought of my first name still lingered.

"You know, if I was Elsa, I'd expect to get a lot more than a few beers." I teased as I handed the drinks to Dad.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You've got enough clout as it is, don't need any extra."

I shook my head with a grin. "You'd be surprised."

"Looks like we've got another very special guest with us tonight," the announcer's voice echoed over the loudspeakers, grabbing the attention of the entire arena. "Montana's own Governor Perry."

The crowd's applause filled the air as I stood, scanning the crowd for her. As she made her way through the stands, I offered her a warm smile, proud to see her here. She was confident, with a natural poise that made her presence unmistakable. She settled in beside my father, her smile just as warm as mine.

She turned to me, her voice cutting through the hum of excitement in the stands. "Thank you, Alex," she said with a grin. "If you ever think about running for office, you let me know. You'd have my full support."

I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head in amusement. "Don't think that's for me," I replied, giving her a teasing smile. "But I appreciate the offer."

Her gaze softened, understanding my hesitation. "Well, if you ever change your mind, just know you've got an ally in me."

I nodded, appreciative of her words. "I'll keep that in mind, Governor. Thanks."

I smiled as I watched my father speak softly to her, his voice low and almost unrecognizable in the noise of the arena. There was something about Lynell Perry that seemed to calm him, or at least make him appear lighter, like he had a moment of relief from the weight he always carried. He needed someone like her—someone with a strength of her own who could stand beside him without being intimidated.

It was a side of my father I rarely saw, one that was softer, less guarded, like he was allowed to let his guard down for just a second.

He needed that, maybe more than he realized.

Whether or not it was enough to truly bring him happiness, I didn't know. But for tonight, it seemed like a taste of something good. Something real. Maybe that was all he'd ever ask for.

"Jimmy's next," Rip said, settling down beside Beth and me.

"Awesome," I replied, squeezing Ryan's hand. "Is it weird that I feel a little nervous for him?"

The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, and I turned just in time to see Jimmy's horse charge out of the bucking chute. My eyes locked on him, watching as he gripped the rigging, but something wasn't right. His posture was off, his grip too loose. It was a fraction of a second too late when I realized he wasn't holding on the way he should.

The horse twisted, bucking violently, and with a sudden, gut-wrenching force, Jimmy was sent flying through the air. My breath caught in my throat as he hit the dirt with a sickening thud.

I stood up, my heart racing, my stomach tightening in knots. "Get up, Jimmy," I whispered to myself, willing him to move, to prove that he was alright.

But he didn't move.

The arena fell silent for a beat, and I saw the flash of the ambulance lights in my peripheral vision. They rushed in, and the crew carefully loaded him onto a stretcher, the crowd murmuring in the background.

The air felt thick, like it was pressing down on me, every part of my body tense with worry. I kept my eyes on him, praying that he would somehow open his eyes, jump off the stretcher, and shake it off. But that wasn't what happened. All I could do was watch, my thoughts scattered, as they wheeled him out of the arena.