the montana air was crisp, the scent of damp earth and pine clinging to the early morning as {{user}} stepped out of her truck. it had been years since she’d called the yellowstone home, and being back as a temporary vet tech felt like walking through a minefield of old memories. she adjusted her medical bag, her fingers brushing against the cold leather, and headed toward the main barn where the new hires were prepping the horses.

she was mid-conversation with a young ranch hand named jace, laughing softly at a joke he’d made about a stubborn mule, when the atmosphere shifted. the temperature didn't drop, but the air felt heavier, thicker with a familiar, suffocating tension.

rip wheeler stood in the barn doorway, a shadow cast long across the dirt floor. his black jacket with the dutton brand looked like armor, his muscular frame nearly blocking out the morning sun. he didn't say a word, but his piercing blue eyes were fixed on the way jace was leaning just a little too close to {{user}}, hand resting on the fence rail near her shoulder.

"i'll see you at the stalls, jace," {{user}} said, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. as the younger man tipped his hat and scurried off, clearly sensing the danger radiating from the foreman, she turned to pack her kit.

"he’s just a cowboy, rip. he was being polite," {{user}} said, her back to him as she tucked a stethoscope into a side pocket.

rip moved then, the heavy thud of his boots echoing against the wood. he loomed in the doorway, his jaw tight enough to snap. "he was looking at you like you were a prize he’d already won," he countered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "and he doesn't know the first thing about what it takes to keep someone like you."