He exhales. “I think what we need is some time away. Right now.”
“You have the rodeo,” I manage, because my brain is still clinging to responsibilities like they’re life rafts. “You can’t just?—”
“I have one act,” he cuts in, and the confidence in his voice is absolute. “Not until later. The others can cover for me.” He’s already pulling out his phone, thumb moving fast. “Give me a sec.”
He walks a short distance away, shoulders squared, phone to his ear. Even from here, I can see it in the way he stands. Seth doesn’t ask for permission; he tells the world what’s happening and expects it to fall in line. He says a few things I can’t hear, pauses to listen, then speaks again, low and firm. Another call. Another pause. His hand lifts once, a sharp gesture like he’s cutting off an argument before it starts.
I sit there, watching him, trying to breathe like a normal person while my whole life rearranges itself around his certainty. A part of me wants to protest, to insist I can handlethis alone, to cling to the stubborn independence I’ve worn like armor for years.
But the bigger part of me is so tired of carrying it all.
Seth returns, shutting my door with me inside, and then sliding into the driver’s seat with a smile that hits me right in the ribs. It’s not cocky, but a satisfying move.
“Done,” he says. “Carter and Kai will handle things.” He reaches across, brushing his knuckles lightly along my cheek as if he can’t help checking that I’m still here. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
I stare at him, blinking. “You… you just fixed it.”
“I didn’t fix it,” he corrects, and his voice softens. “I bought you breathing room.” His gaze holds mine. “Let me take care of you for a bit.”
My throat tightens again. I nod before I can talk myself out of it.
We stop at a gas station on the way out of town. Seth disappears inside and returns with a bag stuffed with snacks and several bottles of water, grinning as he tosses it into the back seat like we’re about to drive across the country instead of just escaping for a few hours.
“Road trip essentials,” he says, like it’s obvious.
I manage a weak smile, still watery. “You’re very thorough.”
“Yep.” He starts the engine, then glances at me, and his expression softens just a touch. “But you’re fed and hydrated under my watch.”
I huff out a laugh and wipe at my cheek again. “Where are we going?”
Seth’s grin returns, warm and a little wicked. “You’ll see.”
I recline in my seat and watch the landscape change outside the window. The town gives way to an open highway, which stretches out to rolling hills and distant mountains. Seth driveswith confidence, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally reaching over to squeeze my knee.
We’ve been driving for nearly two hours when the road starts to climb. The paved highway becomes a narrower track, then a rocky path that makes me grip the door handle.
“Is this safe?”
Seth laughs. “There are so many incredible places in Montana. After every rodeo, we go exploring to find somewhere new. Carter found this spot on our last trip.”
The path levels out eventually, and he parks near a cluster of trees. We get out, and I follow him along a winding trail through the woods until suddenly the trees fall away and?—
Oh.
The canyon stretches out before us, vast and ancient, carved by millennia of wind and water. A river snakes along the bottom, glinting silver in the morning light. The walls are striped in shades of red and gold and amber, and beyond them, three distant mountains rise against the blue sky.
I stand at the edge, breathless. “Seth, this is…”
“Beautiful, right?”
I turn to find him watching me, not the view. His blue eyes are soft, warm, completely focused on my face.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Beautiful.”
He spreads a thick blanket on the stone a safe distance from the edge and sits, patting the space beside him. I join him, tucking my legs beneath me, and for a long moment, we just sit in silence, taking in the view.
“Feel better?” he asks finally.
