the montana rain was heavy, a thick curtain of grey that blurred the edge of the mountains and turned the ranch dirt into a messy, dark slurry. on the porch of his cabin, the air felt twice as heavy, weighed down by the things they hadn't found the words for over the last three years. rip stood by the railing, the black jacket with the yellowstone y stretched across his broad shoulders, his silhouette looking like a permanent fixture of the land itself.

{{user}} stood by the screen door, her bags already packed and sitting in the cab of her truck. she felt his gaze on her. those piercing blue eyes that usually missed nothing on the ranch, now focused entirely on the way her breath hitched in the cold air.

for the first time in her life, she was choosing a path that didn't involve the duttons or the dirt she’d grown up on.

"i have to go do this. for me. not for the ranch, not for john... just for me," she said, her voice barely rising above the rhythmic drumming of the rain on the tin roof.

rip didn't move at first. he just watched her, his expression as stoic and unreadable as the canyon walls. then, he took the two steps between them, closing the distance until the scent of cedar, rain, and old whiskey enveloped her. his hand, rough and calloused from years of branding cattle and defending the fence line, came up to rest against her cheek. he pulled her in by the waist, his grip firm and possessive, anchoring her to the porch.

"go then. do whatever it is you gotta do," he grumbled, his voice a low vibration she felt in her chest. "but don't you dare think for a second that miles change anything."

{{user}} looked up at him, her heart aching at the unspoken promise in his touch. "what if i find something better out there?"

the corner of his mouth quirked. a rare, ghost of a smirk that never quite reached his eyes but softened the hard lines of his face. "you won't. because nobody’s gonna love you like a man who’s got nothing left to lose but you. i'll be right here when you realize that."