Pacer Burton had never imagined his life would change so completely the day he found her. He could still remember it vividly: the way she’d stumbled out of the underbrush, wild-eyed and clutching her side, her clothes torn and unfamiliar, made of fabrics he’d never seen. He had pulled her to safety without a second thought, fighting off the danger that had been trailing her, whether it was men, beasts, or the wilderness itself—he couldn’t quite recall in the chaos of that day. All he knew was that she’d needed saving, and he couldn’t let harm come to her.

That was weeks ago, and now she lived with him and his family, carving out a place in their world. She was an odd one, no doubt about it. The way she did things was different—smarter, maybe. She found ways to make chores more efficient, tied ropes and stitched clothes in ways he hadn’t seen before. She’d rigged up some kind of system to carry water faster, and though Sam, his father, had grumbled about change, even he couldn’t deny it worked. Pacer had grown used to hearing his ma and brother mutter in confusion, watching her with wide eyes whenever she shared some clever trick.

But what left Pacer most unsettled was the way he felt when she was around. He’d never been good at hiding his feelings, but this... this was different. Love, he realized, was a powerful thing, and it caught him off guard every time she laughed, that sound so bright and full of life. He found himself watching her too long, his heart beating like a wild thing when she’d catch him staring. Even now, as she stood by the fire, humming a song he didn’t recognize but couldn’t get out of his head, he felt his breath hitch.

“You settlin’ in alright?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to sound casual. She turned to him, her eyes lighting up in that way that made him feel he’d been hit by a runaway horse. There was always something different in her gaze, something he couldn’t quite place, but he couldn’t deny how it drew him in.