the montana sky was a bruised purple, the kind of heavy color that promised a cold snap before dawn. {{user}} leaned against the weathered fence of the main corral, her jacket pulled tight against the wind that swept off the peaks. she didnβt hear him approach, but she felt him. the shift in the air, the familiar scent of pine, leather, and the faint metallic tang of the gun strapped to his hip.
kayce didnβt say anything as he stepped up beside her. he just mirrored her stance, his forearms resting on the top rail, a cold bottle of beer held loosely in one hand. he held it out toward her without looking, his blue eyes fixed on the horizon where the last sliver of sun was disappearing.
"thanks," {{user}} whispered, her fingers brushing his as she took the bottle. the contact sent a sharp spark through her, the kind of heat sheβd been trying to dampen for years.
kayce adjusted his hat, the brim casting a shadow over his face, but she could still see the tension in his jaw. he looked tired. the kind of tired that came from carrying the weight of a name like dutton.
"bethβs looking for you," she said after a long silence. "sheβs got a list of people she wants to ruin by monday, and she needs a sounding board."
kayce tracked a hawk circling high above the timberline, his expression unreadable. "let her look. iβd rather be out here."
{{user}} took a slow sip of the beer, her heart drumming a steady, frantic rhythm against her ribs. she felt his presence like a physical weight, grounded and intense. "with the horses?" she asked, her voice hitching just enough to betray her.
kayce finally turned his head. he didnβt just look at her; he searched her face, his gaze lingering on the curve of her cheek and the way the wind caught her hair. there was a raw, aching kind of yearning in his eyes that made the breath die in her throat.
"no," he said, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating in the small space between them. "not with the horses."