the bunkhouse kitchen was quiet, the only sound the low hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic thud of an ice pack being shifted against skin. {{user}} sat at the scarred wooden table, her shoulder throbbing with a dull, persistent heat that made her wince every time she tried to adjust. the fresh bronc had a mean streak she’d underestimated, and the montana dirt had tasted like iron and failure when she hit the ground.

she didn't hear kayce come in. he moved like a shadow, a habit born from years of hunting and surviving things he never talked about. he was still in his work gear. the faded denim, the worn boots, and the weight of the ranch heavy on his shoulders. when he finally spoke, his voice was low and jagged, cutting through the silence of the room.

"you’re off rotation for three days. rip knows. i told him."

{{user}} didn't look up, focusing instead on the condensation dripping from the blue plastic of the ice pack. "i don't need a babysitter, kayce. it was a fall. i’ve had a hundred of 'em."

she could feel him moving closer, the scent of horse sweat, pine, and expensive tobacco trailing after him. he stepped into the light of the single overhead bulb, his dirty blonde hair messy under the brim of his hat and his blue eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath hitch. he didn't look angry; he looked frayed.

"well, i can't watch a hundred and one," he said, his voice dropping to a raw whisper that vibrated in the small space. "my heart won't take it."

{{user}} stilled, her fingers frozen against the cold plastic. she finally lifted her gaze, searching his face. the rugged lines of his jaw were tight, and for a second, the brooding protector vanished, leaving behind a man who looked terrified of something he couldn't shoot or rope.

"what did you just say?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

kayce didn't flinch. he reached out, his hand hovering near hers before he gently pressed her fingers back down against the ice, ensuring it stayed on the bruised muscle of her shoulder. his touch was calloused but incredibly careful, as if he were afraid she might break despite the strength he knew she carried.

"you heard me," he muttered, his eyes locked onto hers. "put the ice back on, {{user}}. please."