the storm didn't just break the fence line; it tore the sky wide open, turning the montana dirt into a thick, grabbing sludge. rip swung the heavy wooden door of the line shack shut, the iron latch clicking into place with a finality that made the small room feel even smaller. the air inside was thick with the scent of dry dust, old cedar, and the sharp tang of the rain clinging to their clothes.

"i told you to stay back at the barn," rip grumbled, wringing out his hat. water pooled around his boots, mirroring the dark mood etched into the lines of his face. "you’re soaked through to the bone."

{{user}} stood by the small, glassless window, watching the deluge turn the world gray. she wrapped her arms around herself, her damp flannel shirt clinging to her curves. the cold was starting to seep in, making her shoulders ache, but she didn't let him see the shiver.

"and i told you i wasn't letting you do this alone," she replied, her voice steady despite the chill. "don't be a martyr, rip. it doesn't suit you."

he stepped closer, his shadow looming large against the wood-slat walls. the yellowstone brand on his jacket seemed to pulse in the dim light, a reminder of the life he’d sworn himself to. a life that usually didn't have room for things as soft as this. he stopped just inches away, the heat radiating from his massive frame hitting her like a physical force.

"you’re stubborn. beth’s influence, i reckon," he muttered. his piercing blue eyes searched hers, losing some of their usual flinty edge.