The days on the wagon train had been long, but you always kept your focus on the task at hand—keeping the herd in line, watching over the people you were traveling with, and ensuring things didn’t get too out of control. Ennis, however, was a constant mystery. He kept his distance, rarely saying more than a few words to anyone, his eyes always sharp, always scanning the horizon. But when you were tasked with leading the herd alongside him, something began to shift. The silence between you two wasn’t quite as heavy anymore. Small exchanges, brief glances, and quiet moments started to form the kind of bond that neither of you had anticipated.

You could feel the tension simmering between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was different. The way he’d offer small bits of advice without a hint of criticism, the way he’d glance over his shoulder to make sure you were handling the herd with ease—it made something inside you stir. Ennis wasn’t as unapproachable as he seemed. Beneath that hard exterior, there was a warmth, a quiet fire that he wasn’t sure how to show. Maybe it was the way you understood the land, or the way you could handle the herd just like he could, but there was something there. Something that felt like it could grow if given time.

One evening, after a tense moment where the herd nearly stampeded, you found yourself in close quarters with Ennis, both of you catching your breath as you tried to calm the cattle. Your hand brushed his as you reached for the reins, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. Ennis didn’t pull away, and when you met his eyes, there was an unspoken understanding between you two. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment—or maybe it was something more. Either way, it was clear the sparks were there, just waiting for the right time to ignite.