"Oh, no, it’s okay! He was just saying hello," I say, letting warmth lace through my voice. My fingers drift through Buddy’s fur once more.
"Weren’t you, little Buddy?"
The dog leans into my touch, drinking in the affection like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Ford exhales, slow and uneven, like the breath costs him something.
“It’s not,” he says quietly.
I swallow, suddenly hyperaware of the tension in the space between us. Why does it feel like I did something wrong?
Buddy hesitates, his tail still wagging, but then finally pulls away from me, slipping through a gap in the fence, his eager energy dimming slightly as he trots toward Ford’s side.
"Sorry about him," Ford mutters, barely sparing me another glance before turning on his heels, stepping inside, and shutting the door behind him without another word.
I stare at the closed door, my chest tightening with something frustratingly unfamiliar. Curiosity mixed with the faintest edge of caution. He unsettles me, but not in any way I can name, and not in a way that sends me running, but in a way that lingers. It’s something I don’t know what to do with. Ford had looked at me with curiosity in his eyes too, as if he was piecing together a puzzle that he didn’t realise he’d started.
A puzzle … that’s what I was to him, and there was something else in his gaze too—something unsettled.
I tilt my head in thought. Me? Unsettle a man? That’s new.
7
Ford
With my back stiff against the door, I take a deep shuddering breath, releasing it slowly before shooting daggers at my traitor of a dog.
“You just had to go and make friends with her didn’t you!”
Buddy cocks his head to the side giving me those puppy dog eyes that never fail to work on me. I can’t stay mad at him. I mean, can I really blame him for seeking her out?
When I caught sight of Stormy, my gaze had flicked over her, quick and unwilling.
Those eyes. That soft mouth. The way sunlight tangled in her damp golden hair, giving her the kind of glow that made looking away feel like a struggle. Those damn freckles that were even more evident with her fresh bare face. And her legs, pale and smooth, peeking out from underneath that bathrobe she wore. The way the robe had split across the thigh. It was enough to cause my mind to wander, and it was maddening.
It made my stomach twist. Desire is dangerous, messy, uncontrollable, and something I shouldn’t entertain. I refuse to let anything disrupt thecarefully controlled life I’ve built. So, instead of acknowledging it,her, the way she made something stir beneath my skin, I did the only thing I know how to do. I shut down. Pulled back. Gave her nothing but distance and a voice stripped of warmth. Not cold, exactly. Just … closed off. Detached enough to keep the embers from catching. Because if I don’t let it show, if I keep the lines clean and the space between us intact, maybe I can convince myself there’s nothing there to want.
The cool wood of the door is solid against me as I struggle to silence my swirling thoughts. But she is right there, just on the other side. I can feel it, like an unspoken gravity pulling at me, daring me to turn back. I need to get used to this … to seeing those striking blue eyes and that impossibly smooth skin that looks so soft, so inviting, like it would melt at the faintest touch.
My throat feels dry, and I push my hands through my hair struggling to stop my mind from wandering further, to the curve of her legs, the shape of her thighs, the lingering question of what, if anything, lies beneath that robe.
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away, dragging myself back into the present. I force myself to step forward, away from the door, away from her. Theres work to do.
I swallow, clearing the dryness in my throat.
“Come on then, boy. Jensen will be here soon.”
My voice comes out rougher than expected, but Buddy’s ears perk up at the familiar command.
It’s going to be a warm one today. The shift in the seasons is noticeable now. There’s less bite in the morning air … more promise in the golden glow stretching across the horizon. No need for a coat. Jeans and a shirt will do just fine.
I step into my boots, the worn material moulding to my feet like a second skin. My cap is tossed onto my head out of habit, and I scoop up my keysbefore pushing open the front door. I breathe in the morning air, crisp but warming, carrying the scent of earth and hay, reminders that the day is already waiting. Buddy falls into step beside me, like the good, obedient dog he normally is and his paws pad lightly against the dirt, tail swishing in easy rhythm. He’s always been steady, reliable, my shadow in the early hours. As I swing the truck door open, he hops onto the passenger seat without hesitation, settling into his usual spot.
I love mornings. Not just because they’re necessary for the work, though they are, but because there’s something grounding in watching the world stir awake. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, but the sky hums with the soft glow of dawn, spilling light over the mountains. It’s quiet, peaceful.
Buddy does his usual car routine, pressing a paw against the electric window button like the trained expert he is. The glass slides down, and he immediately sticks his head out, eager to feel the wind in his fur. His tail thumps against my leg, steady and, rhythmic. It’s his little way of reminding me he’s here and that I’m not alone. And I never have been really. It’s true, after Clara left the loneliness was unbearable, gnawing at the edges of my days. But I haven’t ever been truly alone. Not really. Not with him. Not with my horse, Raven either. And not with Jensen.
Growing up on a ranch can be lonely, sure. I had friends in town, kids to talk to in school, but the pull of the land, of the animals, always called me back. Class felt like a waiting room, just something to sit through until I could get home and do what I loved. But then there was Jensen. We met in high school, bonded fast over our love for animals. He understood things the way I did and understood why this life matters. Now, he’s a veterinarian and my best friend, showing up for me and helping whenever the ranch needs him.
