the montana sun was beginning to dip behind the jagged peaks of the bitterroot range, casting long, golden shadows across the dirt lot of the dutton ranch. your daughter was already buckled into her car seat, clutching a plastic water bottle and humming a quiet tune, leaving you standing by the driver’s side door in the cooling air.

the crunch of boots on gravel made you turn. kayce was walking toward you, his gait slow and steady, the familiar silver buckle of his belt catching the fading light. he looked every bit the soldier turned rancher. his flannel sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, corded forearms and the brim of his hat pulled low over his blue eyes.

"wait up," he called out, his voice a low, raspy drawl that seemed to vibrate in the quiet space between you.

he stopped a few feet away, close enough that you could smell the faint, rugged scent of cedar, horses, and woodsmoke clinging to his jacket. he didn't say anything at first, just watched you with that intense, brooding gaze that always made you feel like he was reading chapters of your life you hadn't even written yet.

"found this out by the creek this morning," he said, finally breaking the silence. he reached out, extending his hand toward you.

tucked into the center of his calloused palm sat a perfectly smooth, white river stone, polished by years of rushing water until it looked like a piece of fallen moon.

"thought lily might like it," he murmured, his thumb brushing the side of the stone. "tell her it’s good luck."

you reached out to take it, your fingers lingering against his palm a second too long. the heat of his skin sent a spark climbing up your arm, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. his hand was rough, scarred from years of manual labor and things he didn't talk about, but his touch was incredibly gentle.

"you're good with her, kayce," you said softly, looking up at him. "you didn't have to do this. she already thinks the world of you."

"i wanted to." he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, shifting his weight. he looked like he wanted to say a dozen more things. about the way you looked in the evening light, or how the ranch felt a little less heavy when you were around but he settled on a simple question. "you coming back next tuesday?"

"we wouldn't miss it," you replied, slipping the stone into your pocket.

kayce nodded, a rare, genuine ghost of a smile touching his lips. "good. neither would i."