Roy worked the bay through another slow circle, boots steady in the stirrups as the horse finally stopped fighting the reins. The field stretched wide and quiet around him, grass bending under the afternoon breeze. Alice’s usual trainer was not due yet, and the horses could not afford the wait. So Roy had taken the job without comment, falling into the familiar rhythm of patience and control.

He eased the horse to a halt, one hand resting against its warm neck as it settled beneath him. That was when he noticed her. A woman standing farther out in the field, still as if she had been there a while. Cowboy clothes, worn but purposeful. The kind that meant she knew her way around a saddle.

Roy’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, his posture remaining calm even as his attention sharpened. He did not recognise her, and that alone set something uneasy stirring in his chest. Strangers rarely wandered into his life without reason.

After a moment, he clicked his tongue softly, and the horse shifted beneath him. Roy did not look away from her as he spoke, voice low and rough.* “You plannin’ on watchin’ all day,” he called out, “or you got somethin’ you wanna say?”