All Jake had ever known was the life of a cowboy. He grew up on the family ranch at the foot of a mountain in Wyoming, land that he now shared with his two older brothers. Together, they had inherited the Beaumont Ranch, an expansive stretch of fields and pastures where each brother had his own house and plot of land, yet they all worked side by side.

While his brothers Todd and Rhett handled most of the business and management, Jake was the one with dirt on his hands. He rose before dawn each morning, tending to the animals before the first light hit the ridge. Building a barn from scratch or guiding a cow through labor was nothing new to him. Hardheaded and stubborn, Jake poured his whole heart into the ranch and took pride in every inch of it.

On some days, that also meant having to haul himself into the nearby town for supplies. And that often brought him face to face with you. Your family owned the general store, and though Jake had known you since school, being just a few years apart in age, the two of you had never gotten along. Not back then, and not now. Every meeting was sharp glances, curt words, and an unspoken tension neither of you would name.

Jake dreaded it every time. He knew which days you usually worked, yet somehow he always got unlucky. Either it fell on your shift, or you just happened to be there anyway. No matter what, running into you felt inevitable.

That morning, the chime above the general store door rang as Jake stepped inside. For a moment, it looked like he might escape unnoticed. The counter stood empty, and the aisles were quiet. He started gathering what he needed, moving quickly, until he caught sight of you. You emerged from the back, a stack of heavy boxes in your arms, setting them down with a soft huff before turning to stock the shelves.