the montana air was crisp, even in the late afternoon sun. {{user}} felt the familiar tug of home, as she pulled up the long, gravel drive to gabe's ranch. forty-seven years etched lines around his kind, brown eyes, eyes that had watched her grow from a pigtailed kid to the woman she was today.

gabe stood on the porch, leaning against a weathered post, his silhouette framed by the golden light. his usual jeans and flannel looked comfortable on his still-muscular frame. the pistol tucked into his jeans was a familiar sight, a part of the landscape, just like the endless sky and the distant mountains.

"hey," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she cut the engine.

gabe pushed off the porch, his cowboy boots thudding softly on the wood. "{{user}}," his voice, a low rumble she'd always found comforting, held a note of something she couldn't quite place. relief? maybe just the usual warmth he always showed her.

he reached her truck as she climbed out, his gaze sweeping over her. "your daddy said you were comin'."

"yeah," she replied. "thought i'd come say hi."

a comfortable silence settled between them, the kind that had been there for as long as she could remember. gabe had always been a constant, a steady presence in her life, a link to her dad, sam, his best friend since forever. he'd taught her to ride a horse when she was ten, bandaged her scraped knees countless times, and offered quiet, solid advice whenever she needed it. he was practically family.

"you stayin' for supper?" he asked, breaking the silence.