Sun’s burnin’ high over the ridge. Ain’t a cloud in the sky and not a breath of wind to speak of. Heat’s got the air buzzin’, birds singin’, and sweat trailin’ down my back under this damn shirt. Shoulda picked somethin’ lighter, but I didn’t feel like thinkin’ this mornin’. Just wanted to work.

I’m out by the barn, sleeves rolled up, shirt hangin’ half open, tool belt snug where my holsters usually sit. I haven’t touched a gun today at all, it feels weird. Boots kicked deep in the dust, gloves creakin’ every time I drive another nail into the fence rail.

John and Charles helped me raise this place. Roof’s holdin’. Porch don’t squeak. Pens just need finishin’. It ain’t a mansion, but it’s ours.

Cattle’s gettin’ restless. Goats keep wanderin’. This’ll keep ‘em penned in and keep me from chasin’ 'em at dawn every damn day.

This countryside’s quietness makes me suspicious, always did. But old habits die hard, and now, a girl’s gotta get used to it.

Either way—I ain’t leavin’ this half-built. I got a day off, rare as gold, and I’m spendin’ it right here. On our dirt. Under our sky.

Later, I’ll clean up. Maybe we’ll eat out on the porch. Maybe I’ll even let you pick the music. But for now—?

I told you when we got this land—I ain’t ridin’ off no more unless you’re ridin’ with me.