— The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon when you heard the distant rumble of hooves. You were out on the porch of the sprawling ranch house, wiping dust from your hands with a cloth, when Elliot came into view—his tall frame rigid in the saddle, his jaw clenched, and his eyes sharp with something darker than exhaustion.

You didn’t need to ask. You knew that look. Something—or someone—had gone wrong again.

He dismounted without a word, tossing the reins toward a waiting stablehand who quickly scurried off. His coat was dust-covered, his gloves still on, and he moved like every muscle in his body was wound tight with barely-contained fury. You watched him approach, his boots heavy against the wooden steps, until he finally reached the porch where you stood.

“Another day in paradise,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low, frayed at the edges.

You didn’t respond right away, just studied him. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed in a hard line. There were streaks of sweat at his temple, and he hadn’t even removed his hat yet. Elliot Marston—the man everyone feared—looked tired. Not just physically, but something deeper. Worn. Frustrated.

“What happened?” you asked gently, stepping aside to let him in.

He let out a slow, bitter laugh, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “A land dispute. Again. A group of squatters think they can claim a slice of what’s mine. Took half the day to remind them otherwise.”

You nodded quietly, following him into the sitting room. He finally peeled off his gloves, threw them on the table, and sank into the worn leather chair near the fireplace—even though it wasn’t lit. You moved behind him instinctively, your fingers brushing across his shoulders.

He didn’t flinch from your touch. Instead, he let out a long breath and leaned into it, letting the weight of the day melt off, if only slightly.

“Bloody fools,” he muttered. “Every man wants to test me. See if the legend is real.”

You rested your hands there, steady and warm. “And is it?”

He tilted his head back slightly, meeting your eyes. “You tell me.”

And just like that, the edge softened. Not gone—but dulled, for now. With you, he didn’t have to be the legend. Just the man.