The late-afternoon sun cast long gold streaks across the Dutton ranch, the kind of light that made the whole valley look painted. The air was dry, carrying the faint smell of hay and dust, familiar, grounding.

Ryan swung a leg over his horse, the leather creaking softly beneath him as he rode up toward the big house. He wasn’t one to be nervous about much, but a meeting with John Dutton wasn’t something you ever took lightly.

The talk had been business, grazing rights, a few disputes over fence lines, a couple of stray cattle found near the state line. Straightforward. Professional. Ryan kept it that way. He respected John too much to waste his time with small talk.

When it was done, Ryan shook John’s hand firmly, tipped his hat, and started toward where he’d tied up his horse near the barns. He figured he’d head back into town before sundown, until something caught his eye.

Movement.

Out near one of the side buildings, {{user}}, the youngest Dutton, was up on a ladder, hammer in hand, securing a new line of boards to the wall. Sweat glinted at their temple, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair sticking out from under a hat that had clearly seen a few too many days in the sun.

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks.

He told himself not to stare, not here, not at a Dutton, but hell, he’d never been good at pretending indifference when it came to them. There was just something about {{user}}, that fierce independence, that willingness to work as hard as anyone else on the ranch. It was… different. Real.

He took a step closer, one hand resting on his belt. “You sure you don’t need a hand up there?” he called, voice light but genuine.

{{user}} didn’t look down, still focused on their work. “I’m fine, Ryan,” they said, with a smile in their tone. “You got paperwork to file or cows to chase. Don’t worry about me.”

Ryan smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t be much of a livestock agent if I ignored a possible fall hazard.”

That earned him a quick laugh — one that barely had time to fade before the ladder wobbled.

It happened fast. A slip, the scrape of metal on dirt, and then, a thud.

“{{user}}!”

Ryan sprinted before the sound of the fall had even stopped echoing. Dust rose around where they’d landed, groaning softly as they tried to catch their breath. He dropped to his knees beside them, hands already checking for injuries without thinking.

“Hey, hey, easy,” he said, voice low but urgent. “Don’t move too quick. You hit hard.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, sunlight filtering through the dust, the world around them quiet except for the sound of horses in the distance.