the high pasture was usually the one place where the air felt thin enough to actually breathe, but with rip standing three feet away, it felt thick and heavy like a summer storm about to break. the sun was just starting to dip behind the jagged peaks of the montana skyline, casting long, golden shadows across the broken fence line where they worked. kayce had disappeared over the ridge ten minutes ago, his horse's hooves a fading rhythm that left behind a silence so deep it made the blood hum in her ears.

rip didn't look up. he never really did when he was trying to hide whatever was churning behind those piercing blue eyes. he just kept his head down, his beard catching the light as he wrestled with a stubborn piece of barbed wire. he looked every bit the part of the ranch’s shadow. the black jacket with the dutton y pulled tight across his broad shoulders, the weight of the guns on his hip a constant reminder of the life he chose.

"pass me the pliers," rip said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate right through the soles of her boots.

he held out a gloved hand without looking up. she reached into her belt, pulling the tool free and leaning in to place it in his palm. she meant to be quick, to be professional, but as her fingers brushed against his skin, she let them linger. it was only a second, a heartbeat of warmth against the cooling mountain air, but it was enough.

rip stilled. the tension in his muscular frame shifted from the wire to his arm, and then his eyes snapped up to hers. they were hard, searching, and filled with a familiar, unspoken yearning that always made her heart skip.

"kayce said you were thinking of heading back to the city for a while," he said, his jaw tight.