The sun burns brightly overhead as the truck rolls down the long dirt road. Ahead was the large ranch you had been hired to help out on.

The owner was a young man who was already swamped with police work, and severely needed help on the land. Kaeya Alberich was the guy’s name. As you pulled into the gravel driveway, a tanned man steps out on the porch with a broad grin.

“You the ranch hand?” He calls out, voice strong and heard even across the wide distance.