Once we’d shut down the cabin and started back toward the ranch, Hades showed up to lead the way. Even with him keeping us on the trail, the ride back was slow. The snow had drifted in places, making the trail treacherous in places. I kept Morgan close, watching for patches of ice and unstable ground. She looked more confident and relaxed in the saddle. Like something had shifted overnight.
Hell, everything had shifted overnight.
When the main ranch buildings came into view, Hades left us to cover the rest of the way on our own. Relief and dread washed over me equally. Relief because we'd made it back. Dread because reality was waiting.
And so was Dawson. I spotted his truck parked near the barn before we even dismounted. He must've gotten back earlier than expected.
Morgan noticed too. “Is that?—”
“Dawson,” I confirmed, swinging down from the saddle. “He's back early.”
Her expression shifted and something guarded slid into place. She let me help her dismount, then handed me her reins and brushed snow from her jacket like she was preparing for an inspection.
Dawson stepped out of the barn as we approached, his expression unreadable. He took in the two horses, the snow still clinging to our coats, and the careful distance Morgan had put between us.
“Did the storm catch you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “We had to hole up in the north cabin.”
Dawson's gaze flicked to Morgan, then back to me. “Everyone all right?”
“Fine,” Morgan said. “Slade got us there safely.”
Her cold, professional tone made my jaw tighten.
“Morgan Carter,” I said, gesturing between them. “This is Dawson Griffith. Dawson, Morgan's the town planner.”
“It’s “nice to meet you, ma’am.” Dawson tipped his hat, polite but assessing.
Morgan offered a small smile. “Nice to meet you too. Slade's told me about the rodeo plans. They're impressive.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Dawson's gaze lingered on her for a beat too long, then shifted back to me. “I'll help get the horses settled.”
Morgan took that as her cue. “I should get going. I've got work to catch up on.”
She didn't look at me when she said it and didn't wait for a response. Just headed toward her car with her shoulders squared and her chin up, every inch the competent professional who definitely hadn't spent the night with her legs wrapped around my hips in a storm-trapped cabin.
I watched her go, something heavy settling in my chest.
“Slade.” Dawson's voice pulled me back.
I turned to find him studying me with that quiet, knowing look he got when he'd already figured out more than I wanted him to.
“What?” I asked, defensive without meaning to be.
He shook his head and led my horse toward the barn. “Come on. Let's get these two settled and you can fill me in on what’s been going on.”
We worked in silence while we tended to the horses. The familiar rhythm should've been calming, but it wasn't.
“So,” Dawson said eventually. “How'd the land review go?”
“Good,” I said. “Morgan knows her stuff. She's thorough.”
“And the town? They warming up to her?”
“Some. Others are still suspicious.”
Dawson nodded, running a brush along Lollipop’s flank. “Does it seem like she's planning on sticking around?”
