the montana sky was bleeding orange and purple when the jack finally caught. the dirt road was empty, miles from the main house, and the silence of the valley was heavy. kayce didn't say much as he worked, his movements practiced and efficient. his flannel sleeves were pushed up, showing the grit on his skin and the steady strength in his arms as he loosened the lugs.

{{user}} stood close, holding the flashlight steady even though the sun hadn't fully dipped below the peaks. she handed him the tire iron, her fingers brushing against his. he didn't pull away immediately. he lingered in the space between them, his blue eyes catching the fading light when he finally looked up.

"you ever think about leaving?" he asked, his voice low and raspy, breaking the quiet. "finding a practice in a city where people don't shoot at each other?"

{{user}} leaned against the warm metal of her truck, looking out over the silhouette of the herd in the distance. "every time your father looks at me," she admitted softly. "but then i think about these hills. and the people who belong to them."

kayce paused, the tool resting forgotten in his hand. he looked at her then, really looked at her, looking past the vet scrubs and the messy hair. "do you think you belong here?"

"i think i’m starting to," she said, her heart hammering against her ribs. "does that scare you?"

he stood up slowly, wiping his hands on a rag, stepping into her personal space until she could smell the whiskey and hay and cold mountain air clinging to him. "no," he murmured, his gaze intense and unblinking. "it’s the first thing that’s made sense in a long time."