the sky over montana had turned a bruised, ugly shade of purple, swallowed by clouds that rolled in like a physical weight. the first crack of thunder didn't just make a sound; it shook the floorboards of the main house, followed by the aggressive rattle of rain against the glass. inside, the lights flickered once, twice, and then died completely, leaving the room in a thick, suffocating dark.

{{user}} pulled her daughter closer against her side, feeling the small, shaking frame of a toddler who didn't understand that the ranch house was built to withstand worse than this. she was still trying to find a flashlight in the kitchen drawer when a heavy, rhythmic thud echoed from the mudroom door.

when she pulled it open, the silhouette of rip wheeler filled the frame. he looked like a shadow carved out of the storm itself, his black jacket slick with rain and his cowboy hat pulled low. the yellowstone brand on his chest caught the faint, orange glow of the lantern he held up, casting long, flickering shadows across his stoic face.

"i didn't think you'd be out in this," {{user}} said, her voice a little breathless as she stepped back to let him in. she felt small under his gaze, conscious of how the soft light hit the curves of her body and the way her hair was a mess from the humidity. "it's a mess out there."

rip stepped inside, the smell of wet earth and leather trailing after him. he kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, his blue eyes immediately finding hers. there was a softness there he didn't show the ranch hands, a quiet yearning that always seemed to hum between them when no one else was watching.

"checkin' the barns," he rumbled, his voice deep enough to rival the thunder outside. he set the lantern down on the counter, his gaze shifting toward laney clinging to her leg. "thought i’d check the house, too. kid okay?"