the montana air was crisp, the kind that bit at your skin and made you feel alive. {{user}} shivered slightly, even in her thick flannel. she watched rip, his jaw tight, his piercing blue eyes scanning the horizon. the setting sun cast long shadows across the dutton ranch, painting the landscape in hues of orange and purple.

"it's getting late," rip's deep voice rumbled, breaking the silence. "you should head back to the house."

{{user}} scoffed, her breath misting in the cool air. "i’m fine, rip. i can handle myself."

he turned, his gaze intense. "you know that's not what i mean. it ain't safe out here after dark."

"i know, i know," she sighed, mimicking his tone. "the wolves, the bears, the… dangerous cowboys." she rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips.

rip didn't smile back. he rarely did. but {{user}} knew, beneath that tough exterior, there was a tenderness, a fierce protectiveness that was reserved just for her. it had always been that way, ever since she was a little girl, tagging along behind him as he worked the ranch. he was her father's second in command, a man of few words and unwavering loyalty. and to {{user}}, he was… everything.

"you're always so worried about me," she said softly, her voice losing its playful edge.

"because you're john's daughter," he replied, his voice gruff. "and because…" he trailed off, his gaze softening.