She turned her head toward the chair by the window. He was still there, twisted into the too-small seat, head tipped back at an angle that would leave his neck screaming. One arm dangled toward the floor while the other lay across his chest, rising and falling with each deep breath.
He’d stayed.
All night.
She studied him in the weak morning light filtering through the thin curtains. Asleep, the hard lines of his face softened, though a furrow remained between his brows, as if he couldn’t quite let go of his worries even in sleep. His beard had grown slightly wild, dark against his skin, and his scarred hands twitched occasionally as he dreamed.
Her throat tightened. Men had made her promises before. Landry had promised to protect her, to champion her, to respect her boundaries. All lies. But Anson—a man who barely spoke,who struggled to meet her eyes—had simply shown up. Stayed. Without fanfare or expectation.
As if sensing her attention, his eyes snapped open. Dark hazel locked onto her face, disoriented for only a heartbeat before awareness flooded back.
“Morning,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you actually stayed all night. In that chair.”
He sat up with a wince, rolling one shoulder. “Said I would.”
“You must be miserable.” She pushed herself upright, the blanket pooling around her waist. She’d slept in her clothes, and they twisted uncomfortably around her torso. “Why didn’t you at least stretch out on the couch?”
“Needed to see the door.” He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “And the window.”
Her heart squeezed. “What about the kittens? And Princess?”
“Went back every few hours. To feed them.”
“You walked to the forge every three hours in the freezing cold?” She couldn’t process it. “And came back here? While I slept through the whole thing?”
He shrugged as if it was nothing. As if hiking back and forth across the ranch in the dead of night was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. “You needed sleep. They needed food.”
Overwhelmed, she pressed a hand to her mouth. This quiet, scarred man had split himself in two last night—one part guardian at her door, one part caretaker for the tiny lives depending on him. Both roles executed without complaint.
“What’s wrong?” Concern tightened his features.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, blinking back the sudden burn behind her eyes. “Just...thank you.”
A movement beyond the window caught her eye, and she gasped. White flakes drifted past the glass, fat and lazy. “Is that...?”
“First snow,” Anson confirmed, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Started around four this morning.”
“I’ve never seen snow this deep before.” She scrambled out of bed and searched for her boots. “Well, once in New York City, but I was stuck in meetings all day, and it was mostly brown slush by the time I got outside.”
She grabbed River’s hoodie from the back of a chair, and Anson’s expression darkened.
“No.”
She stopped short, one arm stuffed into he sweatshirt. “What?”
He pushed out of the chair and reached into the duffel bag he must have brought back with him during one of his late-night treks to the forge. The flannel shirt he pulled out was navy and rust plaid with a cream sherpa lining that looked impossibly soft. He extended it toward her. “If you’re going to wear a man’s clothes, they’ll be mine.”
She grinned at him, but didn’t move to accept the shirt. “Why, Anson Sutter, are you jealous?”
His jaw worked beneath his beard, but he didn’t deny it. “Shouldn’t be wearing his clothes.”
“Because?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved closer and gently tugged River’s hoodie off her arm. The air raised goosebumps on her arms for only a second before he wrapped his flannel around her shoulders, engulfing her in warmth and his scent. Metal and woodsmoke and cold winter pine. The shirt was too big on her, built for a man who worked with his hands, who needed room to move. The hem hit mid-thigh. The sleeves hung past her hands.
But somehow it felt exactly right. Like armor, like safety, like belonging.
She couldn’t breathe properly. Couldn’t think past the warm brush of his rough fingers against her stomach as he buttonedit. He finished the last snap, and his hands settled at her waist, keeping her from stepping back.
