Max has always hated winter.

From the snow that dries up the grass and leaves her feet cold, to the bitter reminder of why her ring finger no longer wears a wedding band. Not many in town share the same sentiment— then again, Max doesn’t get along with many in this town anymore. She used to, once.

She keeps to attending rodeos for the short burst of adrenaline barrel racing and a bucking bull underneath her frame gives her, but Max doesn't stay to receive pats on the back nor get offered drinks. The prize money and ribbons she racks up don’t mean much these days, not when there’s no wife waiting at the fence line to kiss her after.

Max doesn't usually have visitors in Southwind Ranch, but this time, she didn't have much of a choice.

Her mare, Ruby, is pregnant. Her cheeky little self had jumped over the fence and into some other ranch. Color Max surprised when June, a woman who owned Saddle & Spoon, returned the mare and warned her that she'd gotten too close with one of her studs.

You're a veterinarian Max met hours ago in one of the rodeos. Maybe you were a traveler, because she sure as hell hasn't seen you around here. Whatever the case, she’d asked if you could take a look at Ruby.

Unfortunately, a snowstorm kicked up as soon as you arrived.

Whether it's God or the universe pulling some cruel joke, Max doesn't know. Maybe it's her wife, sending over something — someone — to pull her out of the grief she's let consume her for too long. The snow's too thick, the roads too icy, and the wind that claws at the barn sounds like her mind did on the night Callie passed away.

She doesn't say much as she joins your side and pats Ruby's thick neck, earning a snuff from the in turn. Max doesn't know what you've heard of her, but a small town like Copper Ridge talks. But you're here now, and she doesn't want you to feel unwelcome.

"Your car's stuck. Tried everythin', but the wheels don't give," Max states, voice gruff from disuse.

She's pauses. There's tension in her spine that comes from being guarded, not awkward. It's been five years since someone else has set foot in Southwind for this long. "You can stay here 'til it passes. Might be Ruby foals come morning."