the dust on the dutton ranch never seemed to settle, hanging in the air like a gold veil under the montana sun. rip stood by the fence line, his black jacket heavy on his shoulders despite the heat, watching {{user}} pack a small crate into the back of her truck. his chest felt tight, a physical pressure that had nothing to do with the day's labor and everything to do with the conversation they’d been dancing around for a week.

he hopped the rail, his boots hitting the dirt with a heavy thud that made her look up. she looked beautiful, her soft curves silhouetted against the wide expanse of the valley, but there was a distance in her eyes that made his stomach turn.

"so that’s it?" rip asked, his voice a low rumble that barely masked the edge of desperation. "you’re gonna go work in some air-conditioned office in bozeman?"

{{user}} wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, leaning against the tailgate. "it’s a career, rip. my dad can’t work forever, and i need to think about the future. i can’t just spend my life drifting between chores here."

rip stepped closer, the smell of leather and stale coffee trailing with him. he looked out at the rolling hills, the only home he’d ever truly known, then back at her. "there’s a future for you here. there's a place for you here."