CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Clint
I’mout on the far side of the ranch, trying to wrap my head around the mess at the west fence. Busted posts, broken wire, and a few too many signs that someone did this on purpose.
My jaw’s clenched tighter than a saddle cinch, and I can’t seem to shake the frustration building up in my chest. Whoever did this wanted to cause trouble. And trouble’s the last thing we need right now.
The heat’s suffocating today. The kind that sticks to your skin, makes you burn. My shirt’s plastered to my back, sweat running down my face as I kick rocks and try to think through the next steps.
We need supplies, more fencing, maybe even a way to catch whoever thinks they can just stroll in and mess with what’s ours. My mind’s racing through a hundred ways I could fix this, but it all feels too damn much.
That’s when I see something.
Or rather, someone.
At the edge of the pasture, near the trees where the old fence line used to be. I pause, tension immediately flooding my chest. What the hell are they doing here?
My stomach twists with that knot of irritation. First the fence, now some trespasser. It’s the last thing I need right now.
I squint against the sun, the light sharp, but there’s something about the figure that catches my eye. At first, I can’t make them out clearly. Just the outline of someone sitting in the dirt, writing something.
I keep my gaze locked on them as I move closer. Every step I take makes my blood simmer more. Whoever this is, better have a damn good explanation.
My hand twitches toward the gun on my belt. Just in case.
But then I get closer.
And I freeze.
It’s her.
Dakota.
And Charlie, too.
The way she’s hunched over that sketchpad, her concentration so deep, the soft breeze playing with her hair, I almost didn’t see the familiar curve of her profile. She’s sitting there, lost in her art, completely unaware of me.
I stop dead in my tracks, my heart hammering against my ribs, trying to escape. The irritation fades.
And something else takes its place.
Something more… complicated.
I watch as she lightly taps her pencil against the paper, biting her lip as she sketches a line. Her fingers move with a delicate rhythm that makes her appear to be in a world of her own. And for some reason, I can’t look away.
I feel the heat of the sun pressing down on me, but it’s not the sun that’s making my skin feel tight. It’s the tension in my chest, the rush of emotions I wasn’t ready for.
I stand there for a few seconds, frozen, the anger from earlier replaced by a mix of confusion and something I can’t quitename. A knot in my chest that won’t loosen, and I can feel all the things I’ve been avoiding coming back in full force.
I know I should turn around, walk away, and not let myself get tangled up in whatever this is. But my legs don’t move. Instead, I find myself watching her. And then, a switch flips, and she looks up.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a split second, everything goes still.
All that tension, all that damn awkwardness. It’s right there, in the space between us. I can feel it.
Her lips press into a tight line. She’s not sure how to react. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Words are stuck in my throat, and instead of breaking the silence, I just stand there.
Watching her.
