the smell of hay and dried rain usually calmed him, but tonight the air in the barn felt thick, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the horses. kayce stood by the stall, his calloused hands working a brush against the coat of a restless mare with more force than necessary. his mind was stuck on the porch, replaying the way his father had leaned back in his chair and suggested you start seeing some developer from bozeman. a "nice guy," john had called him.

kayce hated the idea before the sentence was even finished.

he heard your boots on the wooden floor before he saw you. you moved with a familiar confidence, the medical bag over your shoulder a constant reminder of the professional line he wasn't supposed to cross. you were the ranch’s doctor, steady and sharp, a woman who took up space in his mind in a way that made the mountains feel small.

"you're going to scrub the skin right off her if you don't relax, kayce," you said, your voice echoing slightly in the rafters.

he didn't look up, his jaw tight beneath his beard. "she's just jumpy. weather's turning."

you stepped closer, leaning against the wooden post of the stall. you didn't buy the excuse for a second. you had a way of looking at him that stripped away the "soldier" and the "rancher" until he was just a man with a heavy heart. "the mare is fine. you're the one who looks like you're ready to pick a fight with a fence post."

kayce finally stopped, the brush dangling at his side. he looked at you then, really looked at you. the way the low light caught your face and the softness of your curves that he’d spent months pretending not to notice. the thought of some suit from the city taking you out to dinner, making you laugh, touching your hand, made his blood simmer.

"if you have something to say about my personal life, kayce, just say it," you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. "don't take it out on the horse."

he stepped out of the stall, the spurs on his boots jingling softly as he closed the distance between you. he was a head taller, his presence blurring the lines of the professional distance you both worked so hard to maintain. "he's not right for you," he muttered, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone that usually meant trouble. "that's all."

you let out a short, frustrated breath. "and who is? some ranch hand who barely says ten words a day and hides in the mountains every time things get complicated?"

the critique stung because it was true, but the jealousy won out. kayce took one more step, invading your personal space until he could smell the faint scent of antiseptic and wild grass on your skin. his blue eyes were dark, intense, and focused entirely on you.

"maybe he's just waiting for a reason to stay down here," he whispered, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out and finally bridge the gap.