the rain was a heavy, rhythmic drumming against the tin roof of the barn, a sound that usually brought kayce a sense of peace but tonight felt like a countdown. he moved with a slow, practiced grace, pulling the saddle from his horse, his muscles aching from a day on the range that hadn't been long enough to outrun his thoughts. the scent of wet leather and hay filled the air, thick and grounding.

"she told me to stay away from you."

the voice came from the doorway, small but steady. kayce froze, his hands still resting on the worn leather of the saddle. he didn't have to look up to know it was {{user}}. he’d known she was there the second her shadow cut through the dim light of the lantern. he thought about the way beth’s eyes had narrowed earlier that afternoon, the sharp, protective edge his sister always carried.

"she said i’d just end up part of the wreckage," {{user}} continued, her voice trembling just enough to make his chest tighten.

kayce stayed silent for a long moment, the only sound the steady downpour outside. he slowly turned, his blue eyes catching the light as they landed on her. she looked beautiful and exhausted, standing there in her rain-slicked jacket, her hair damp and clinging to her face. she wasn't just beth’s best friend; she was the only person who made the air in montana feel easy to breathe.

"is that what you want? to stay away?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate in the small space between them.

{{user}} stepped further into the barn, the light catching the curves of her face. "i don't know what i want, kayce. i have a son to think about. i can't play games. i can't be another casualty of this ranch."

kayce dropped the saddle, the heavy thud echoing against the wooden floor. he crossed the distance in three long strides, closing the gap until he was standing right in her personal space. he smelled of woodsmoke, rain, and the outdoors. he looked down at her, his expression intense and brooding, the "y" branded on his chest burning beneath his flannel shirt.

"i ain't played a game in my life, {{user}}," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a confession. he reached out, his calloused thumb grazing the line of her jaw. "if i’m reachin' for you... it’s because i don't want to reach for anything else."