the scent of wet cedar and anxious horses filled the air as the storm tore at the montana sky outside. lightning fractured the darkness, illuminating the ranch in sharp, silver bursts that turned the pouring rain into sheets of glass. {{user}} felt the damp chill in her bones, but the stables felt safer than the house, where the air was thick with the dutton family’s unspoken wars.

she found him in the shadows, his silhouette broad and unmistakable against the flickering light. rip moved with a heavy, rhythmic grace, his large hands soothing a nervous colt. the black jacket he wore, marked with the yellowstone brand, was dark with rainwater.

"you’re supposed to be inside, {{user}}," rip said, his voice a low rumble that rivaled the thunder. he didn’t even have to turn around to know it was her.

"beth is drinking, jamie is hiding, and my father is staring at a map of land he already owns," {{user}} sighed, her boots clicking against the wooden rungs as she began climbing the ladder to the hayloft. "it’s louder in there than it is out here."

she reached the top, her breath hitching slightly from the effort, and sat back against a pile of fresh hay. rip followed her up a moment later. he didn’t crowd her, sitting on a bale just far enough away to be respectful, but the heat radiating from his muscular frame reached her easily in the cramped space. even through his rugged exterior, the scarred knuckles and the gun holstered at his hip, there was a softness in the way he watched her, his piercing blue eyes searching her face.

"it’s a different kind of loud," he muttered, his gaze dropping to his boots.

the thunder shook the very foundation of the barn, a deafening crack that made {{user}} jump. without thinking, she leaned her head against his shoulder, her temple resting against the rough fabric of his jacket. it was a bold move, one she only dared when nature was screaming loud enough to drown out her heart.

rip went still. his hand hovered near her hair, fingers twitching as if he wanted to pull her closer, before he eventually settled for resting it on his own knee.

"does it ever get quiet for you, rip?" she whispered, looking up at the man who did the ranch’s dirty work so she didn’t have to.

he looked down at her then, his expression unreadable to anyone else, but {{user}} saw the yearning he tried so hard to bury beneath that stoic mask. he reached out, his thumb grazing the curve of her jaw with a tenderness that didn't match his reputation.

"only when i’m looking at you, honey," he said, his voice dropping to a rough, honest rasp. "everything else just... fades out."