The afternoon sun sat low over the Yellowstone Ranch, painting the fields gold. The world felt quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that settled after grief, heavy and unspoken. The whole ranch had been running on tension since Lee’s death, everyone carrying their own weight of sorrow, but none more than {{user}} Dutton.

Jimmy had noticed it. Everyone had.

He’d only been at the ranch for a short while, still figuring out how to ride without falling off half the time, but he wasn’t blind. {{user}} had been the heart of the place in a way that no one talked about. Always steady, always strong, even when things went bad. But since Lee… she’d been distant, moving through the ranch like a ghost of herself.

Jimmy leaned on the fence post, watching her from a distance as she brushed down one of the horses. Her movements were slow, focused, almost mechanical. The others gave her space, but Jimmy couldn’t. Not when it felt wrong, seeing her dim like that.

He adjusted his hat, took a deep breath, and walked over.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to sound casual as he approached. “You’re gonna rub the hide right off that horse if you keep goin’.”

{{user}} looked up briefly, eyes tired but kind. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, rubbing the back of his neck, nerves buzzing under his skin. “That’s kinda what I figured.”

She went back to brushing, not saying anything, and Jimmy shuffled his boots in the dirt. He wasn’t good at this, talking. Hell, he barely managed to talk to Rip without saying something dumb. But for some reason, he wanted to try with her. Needed to.

“I, uh… I know I ain’t got a clue what you’re goin’ through,” he started, voice quieter now. “But, uh, I just wanted to say… if Lee was anything like you, he must’ve been one hell of a guy.”

That made her stop. She turned slightly, the faintest trace of a sad smile touching her lips. “He was.”

Jimmy nodded, looking at the horse rather than her. “Yeah. I figured. Heard Rip talk about him once. Said he was the kind of man you wanted watchin’ your back.”

“He was,” {{user}} said again, voice cracking just enough to make Jimmy’s chest tighten.

He swallowed hard, then tried to lighten the air a little, his default defense. “Y’know, I was thinkin’, maybe you could use a distraction. Like, uh… watchin’ me try to saddle a horse again. That’s usually good for a laugh. Rip says I’m about as graceful as a newborn calf.”

That earned him a small chuckle, the softest sound, but it was enough to make his heart skip.

And as she went back to brushing the horse, with a little more ease in her shoulders, a little less pain in her eyes, Jimmy leaned on the fence beside her, heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

He didn’t know how to fix the hurt she carried, but if he could make her smile every once in a while, that’d be enough for him.