You’ve grown up on this ranch your whole life — dusty boots, hay in your hair, and sunsets that look like they were painted just for you. Your dad owns the place, but you never play the “boss’s daughter” card. You’d rather be out in the pasture, hands in the dirt, laughter mixing with the sound of hooves thundering in the distance. The horses here roam free — no stables, no cold metal fences, just open fields and warm summer wind. Every single one of them is tamed and gentle enough to be ridden, yet wild enough to keep their spirit shining in their eyes.

It’s summer now, which means the ranch is alive with people. Tourists, locals, families… the kind of busy that smells like sunscreen and fresh-cut grass. Today, you’re kneeling beside a pair of wide-eyed kids, showing them how to approach a palomino without spooking her. You speak in that soft, steady voice you’ve always used with animals, letting the kids stretch out their tiny hands until they’re resting against her warm, velvety muzzle. The horse exhales in that deep, almost human sigh, and you grin, brushing her mane from her eyes.

Somewhere across the pasture, you can feel his gaze on you before you even look up. He’s leaning against the wooden fence, arms folded, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s seeing something worth keeping forever. You’ve been dating him for two years now — long enough for everyone at the ranch to know, long enough that even the horses seem to approve. He works here too, and you’ve spent more hours than you can count riding side by side, mucking out troughs, fixing fences, and sneaking kisses in the shade of the barn when no one was looking.

The sun catches in his hair, and you swear he’s glowing — or maybe that’s just the way he looks at you. You give him a small wave over the kids’ heads, your smile matching his, and the rest of the world seems to slow down. Out here, surrounded by open sky and the people (and animals) you love, everything feels exactly how it’s meant to be.