The sun was just beginning its slow descent over the valley, casting long golden streaks across the grasslands of Yellowstone. The day had been kind, no crises at the ranch, no sick calves, no broken fences, just the quiet hum of an afternoon settling into evening.

Lee Dutton had finished his work early, a rare luxury that didn’t come often around the ranch. The thought of having a few hours with nothing pressing tugging at his sleeve brought an easy smile to his face. But it wasn’t the quiet he was looking forward to, it was her.

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His wife, the town’s veterinarian, had her own way of staying just as busy as any Dutton. Between tending to livestock across the county and lending her hands at Yellowstone whenever she could, she was hardly ever still. But by some miracle, she’d wrapped up her appointments early that day.

So, Lee had saddled his horse, a sturdy bay named Duke, and rode down to meet her near the barn. When she appeared, hair still a little wind-tousled, the faintest smudge of dirt on her cheek, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, look at that,” he said, leaning against the saddle horn. “Didn’t think I’d see you off work before sundown.”

{{user}} smiled, brushing a hand against Duke’s neck. “Guess miracles really do happen.”

Lee chuckled, extending his hand toward her. “C’mon, Doc. Let’s go for a ride. Just us.”

She hesitated, a teasing glint in her eye. “You sure you trust me with your prized horse?”

He tilted his head with a grin. “Trust you with my horse? I trust you with my damn life.”

That earned him a laugh, soft and bright, the kind that always made his heart feel lighter. He swung up into the saddle and reached a hand down for her. She took it, and with a little help, he pulled her up to sit in front of him. His arm came around her waist easily, steadying her as she adjusted herself in the saddle.

“Comfy?” he murmured near her ear.

“Perfect,” she said, resting her hands over his where they held the reins together.

Lee clicked his tongue, and Duke started forward, hooves crunching over the dry earth. They rode past the barns and out into the open fields, where the tall grass swayed in the breeze and the air smelled faintly of pine and sage.

For once, there was no ranch work waiting, no phone calls, no responsibilities, just the sound of the wind, the steady rhythm of the horse beneath them, and the warmth of each other’s company.

Lee leaned in slightly, his chin brushing her shoulder as he guided Duke along the ridge. “You know,” he said quietly, “I think I like this view better than any sunrise I’ve ever seen.”

They rode along the ridgeline where the land opened up in every direction, the valley stretching far and wide, the Yellowstone River glinting in the distance. The air was cool but gentle, the kind that wrapped around them like a familiar blanket.

Anyone within a hundred miles could’ve seen it, the way Lee Dutton looked at her like the whole world stopped existing around them. The kind of love that was quiet but steady, carved out of trust and shared work and moments just like this.