the snow hit the windshield in thick, heavy sheets, blurring the world into a chaotic mess of white and grey. inside the cab of the truck, the heater was humming at a desperate roar, but the chill still managed to seep through the glass. you sat huddled in the passenger seat, your fingers wrapped tightly around a lukewarm thermos as you watched the shadows of the storm dance outside.

next to you, kayce was a solid, grounding presence. he hadn't taken his eyes off the white void beyond the hood, his gloved hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. the scent of damp wool, cedar, and old leather filled the small space, wrapping around you more effectively than the blast of the vents. he looked rugged in the dim light of the dashboard, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his blue eyes, his jaw set firm beneath his beard.

"i should have known better than to take the ridge road in this," you murmured, your voice small against the howling wind outside. you felt the weight of your own foolishness, the way the truck had slid into the mud and refused to budge, leaving you stranded until his headlights had appeared through the haze like a miracle.

kayce shifted, the leather of his seat creaking under his weight. he turned his head slowly, his gaze softening as it landed on you. "i'm glad you did. if you hadn't, i wouldn't have had an excuse to come looking for you."

the honesty in his voice made your heart stutter. you’d been the doctor on this ranch long enough to know the duttons didn't do anything without a reason, but kayce had always been different. there was a gentleness to him that he tried to hide under the brand on his chest and the weight of his father’s legacy.

"you don't need an excuse to talk to me, kayce," you said, forced a small, tired smile. "we’ve known each other too long for that."

he didn't smile back. instead, his expression grew intense, his eyes darkening with a look that made the air in the cab feel suddenly thick and hard to breathe. he shifted closer, the space between you vanishing until you could feel the heat radiating off his chest.

"maybe i’m afraid that if i start talking, i won’t be able to stop saying the things i’ve been holding back," he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, rough vibrato.