the sun was just starting to dip behind the jagged peaks of the montana horizon, bleeding orange and deep purple across the sky. {{user}} sat on the edge of the porch, her legs swinging slightly as she watched the shadows stretch long over the dirt. the wood was cool beneath her, a sharp contrast to the humid heat that had clung to the ranch all afternoon.

heavy boots crunched against the gravel, steady and rhythmic. she didn't need to turn her head to know who it was. the scent of leather, pine, and a hint of expensive tobacco reached her first. rip wheeler came to a halt a few feet away, his silhouette broad and imposing against the fading light. he adjusted the brim of his hat, his piercing blue eyes settling on her with a weight that made the air feel thicker.

"kayce's still out at the south fence. you’re gonna be waiting a while, {{user}}," rip said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in his chest.

she leaned back on her palms, looking up at him. the black jacket with the dutton brand looked stiff, but the man inside it was anything but. she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest, the tension he carried in his shoulders that never quite seemed to leave him.

"i’m not in a rush, rip. it’s quiet up here. hard to find that anywhere else," she replied softly.

rip took a step closer, the spurs on his boots jingling a metallic tune. he leaned one hand against the porch railing, looming over her but not in a way that felt crowded. it felt more like a shield. he looked out toward the tree line, his jaw set tight, before those blue eyes drifted back down to hers.

"quiet’s dangerous," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, turning rougher, more private. "gives a man too much time to think about things he’s got no business wanting."