the montana air was thin and sharp, carrying the scent of dry pine and the metallic tang of the old john deere. {{user}} leaned against the rusted fender of the tractor, a smudge of grease streaking across her forehead. the heat of the afternoon sun felt heavy, but it was nothing compared to the weight of kayce standing only a few feet away.

he looked exactly as he had in the flickers of her memory. rugged, lean, and wearing the dust of the valley like a second skin. his plaid flannel sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms corded with muscle and scarred knuckles that didn't fledge as he worked. the branded 'y' was hidden beneath his shirt, a secret mark of the life he could never truly outrun, but the way he carried himself told the whole story.

kayce didn't look up from the engine. he just tightened a bolt with a steady, practiced rhythm.

"you don't have to be here, kayce," {{user}} said, her voice soft but breaking the thick silence that had stretched between them for hours. "i know how busy the yellowstone is. john probably has a dozen things for you to do that don't involve helping me."

the wrench clicked. kayce finally paused, his chest rising and falling in a slow, deep breath. he stayed crouched for a moment longer than necessary before he stood, his 6'1 frame casting a long shadow over her. he adjusted his cowboy hat, the brim shading blue eyes that were currently unreadable, heavy with things he wouldn't say.

"john’s busy," he replied, his voice a low, gravelly drawl that made something ache in her chest. "i’m just helping a neighbor."

{{user}} felt the sting of the word. she shifted her weight, the movement conscious of the space she occupied, her eyes searching his face for a crack in the armor. "is that all i am now? a neighbor?"

kayce finally looked at her fully. the intensity of his gaze was a physical pressure, a silent storm of yearning and conflict. he wiped his hands on a rag, his movements deliberate.

"you’re the only neighbor i’d spend four hours fixing a 1980 john deere for," he said, his tone dropping an octave. "don’t push it, {{user}}."