the sky over the montana peaks was the color of a fresh bruise, heavy with the weight of an oncoming storm. thunder rumbled deep in the belly of the valley, a low vibration that seemed to settle right in the floorboards of the porch. {{user}} leaned back in the wooden chair, her shoulder brushing against the cool siding of the house as she watched the first jagged streaks of lightning cut through the dark.

kayce was a few feet away, a silhouette defined by the glow of the indoor lights spilling through the glass. he looked like he was carved from the landscape itself, rugged and unyielding, his cowboy hat tipped low enough to shadow his blue eyes. the sleeves of his flannel were rolled up, revealing tanned, scarred forearms that spoke of years of hard labor and things he didn't like to talk about.

the silence between them wasn’t empty. it was thick, charged with the same electricity as the air, humming with everything they hadn't said since she’d come back to the ranch.

{{user}} cleared her throat, the sound small against the wind picking up through the trees. "beth told me you're the one who fixed up the guest cabin," she said, her voice soft. "she said you worked on it for a month before i got here."

kayce didn't move at first. he just kept staring out at the horizon, his hand resting near the holster on his hip. finally, he shifted, the leather of his boots creaking. "it was falling apart," he muttered, his voice a low, raspy drawl. "needed doing."

"she also said you picked out the cedar for the walls," she continued, braving a small smile even though he wasn't looking. "said it was my favorite smell."

at that, kayce leaned heavily against the railing. he turned his head just enough for her to see the sharp line of his jaw through his beard. the intensity in his gaze was enough to make her breath hitch, a slow, familiar heat rising in her chest that had nothing to do with the summer humidity.

"beth talks too much," he said.

he didn't look away this time. the yearning was there, plain and heavy in the way his eyes tracked the movement of her breath. he stayed rooted to the spot, a man torn between the peace he found in her presence and the ghosts he carried under his shirt.

"she just likes to give credit where it's due, kayce."

"well," he exhaled, a plume of breath disappearing into the damp air. "didn't do it for the credit."