the montana sky was already bleeding into shades of bruised purple and gold by the time {{user}} started sliding her notebooks into her leather satchel. the main house at the dutton ranch was uncharacteristically still, the usual chaos of the day settling into a heavy, peaceful hum. she adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, her fingers lingering on the edge of the kitchen table as she took a breath of the air that smelled faintly of pine and woodsmoke.

"he give you a hard time today?"

the voice was low, a gravelly drawl that seemed to vibrate in the small space between them. {{user}} didn't need to look up to know it was kayce. he was leaning against the doorframe, his cowboy hat held loosely in one hand and his eyes shadowed with the kind of exhaustion that went deeper than just bone and muscle. he looked rugged, his plaid flannel shirt dusted with hay and his denim jeans worn at the knees.

{{user}} offered a soft, tired smile as she zipped her bag. "he’s just like his father, kayce. he doesn’t want to be told how to do something; he wants to figure out why it matters. we got through the history lesson eventually."

kayce stepped into the kitchen, the soft thud of his boots against the wood floor the only sound in the room. he stopped just a few feet away, close enough for her to catch the scent of cedar and old leather that always seemed to cling to him. his blue eyes searched her face, intense and unblinking, before he looked down at his boots.

"i appreciate you staying late," he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming something more intimate, more private. "you don’t have to do that. i know the drive back isn't short."

"i don't mind," {{user}} replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she met his gaze. there was a pull there, a quiet magnetic force she couldn't quite name but felt in the heat blooming across her skin. "i like the quiet out here. it’s... easy to breathe."

kayce let out a breath that was almost a sigh, his shoulders losing some of their tension. he stepped closer still, the branded 'y' hidden beneath his shirt a silent weight between them. he didn't reach for her, but the way he watched her, lingering on the curve of her jaw and the softness of her expression, felt like a touch.

"yeah," he murmured, the silence stretching between them, thick with things neither of them was ready to say. "it is."