For a second, I wonder if it’s a coincidence.Maybe she’s just scanning the herd, like the rest of us.But she doesn’t look away… And even as my pulse threads faster, neither do I.I can’t.The rest of the world seems to recede. The lowing of cattle and the creak of saddle leather dulls until it’s almost non-existent. Until there’s nothing but the stretch of land between us and the weight of her gaze holding steady, locked on mine.
“Ah, fuck—” Knox’s curse echoing across the pasture slices through the moment, snapping the thread tethering us in two.
Teagan turns instantly—like I imagined that moment—her focus intently on a calf as it breaks from the herd and makes a run for open ground. Daisy lunges forward without hesitation, the two moving like a single organism. Dust kicks up behind them as she cuts the calf off at an angle, guiding it into the herd with calm, controlled pressure.
I force my attention back to the cattle in front of me. With my hands steady on the reins, I nudge Ranger to intercept another stray before it can follow. By the time I glance back at Teagan, she’s fully absorbed in the work again, her expression set in quiet concentration.
Because it was nothing. Because it shouldn’t be anything.
We spend the next two hours pushing the herd onto higher ground, the slow, deliberate movement requiring more patience than strength. The sun climbs higher, burning away the last traces of the icy morning, warming my neck.
By the time we guide the final cattle of the herd through the open gate of the upper pasture, the tension has drained from my muscles, replaced by heavy fatigue. Ranger’s sides froth with sweat beneath the saddle, his breathing steady but deeper now. I lean forward slightly and run a hand along his neck in quiet acknowledgment of his hard work.
“That’ll do.” James gives a short nod.
Relief settles through the group in a collective exhale upon learning we don’t need to move the herd further. We turn back to the barn, letting the horses pick their way down the slope. Our urgency fades with each step, now that the work is finished. Dust rises and settles behind us, hanging briefly in the air before disappearing entirely.
Teagan rides just ahead and slightly to the right, Daisy’s pale tail swishing lazily. She is close enough that I can’t ignore her, but far enough that I have to. I keep my eyes on the path, but she lingers at the edges of my vision.
The wind has loosened more strands of hair from its braid, dark pieces clinging to the damp skin at the back of her neck. Sunlight threads through loose strands of hair from her braid, catching gold highlights I hadn’t noticed before. The way she leans into the horse with ease, so naturally that the rhythm is almost hypnotic. It’s not just the movements and the way she rides, but her. The little quirks—like the faint curve of her smile when Daisy responds to her touch—repeatedly draw my attention.
It’s unfair how easy it is to notice her. How alive she makes everything feel, even when I know I shouldn’t let myself feel it.
Fuck…
The realization settles in like a weight I can’t shrug off.I like her.More than I should. More than I thought I could. She isn’t Rosie—noone could be my dreamer—but the pull toward Teagan is real. Undeniable. I shift slightly in the saddle, trying to shake it off, trying to tell myself it’s just admiration. But when she looks over her shoulder, catching my gaze for a fraction of a second, my stomach coils.
My grip tightens slightly on the reins. This isn’t about Teagan. It’s about the absence Rosie left behind. It’s about the dangerous instinct to reach for something warm when you’ve been cold for too long.
“Hell of a thing, ain’t it?” Deacon’s voice breaks into my thoughts as he brings his horse alongside Ranger. He sits easy in the saddle, one arm resting casually across the horn, like he doesn’t have a single worry in the world.
“What is?” I ask.
He jerks his chin toward Teagan’s retreating back. “A woman looking at you like that.”
“Like what?” I glance at him.
“I know you were married before. So, I know you understandexactlywhat I mean.”
As much as I don’t want to take the bait, I can’t think of an alternative response. “I do.”
We ride a few more yards in silence before he adds, “Teagan says you used to live in Nashville.”
“I did.”
He waits, like he expects more. When none comes, he shakes his head. “You plannin’ on headin’ back there?”
“Maybe… Someday.” I lean back slightly in my saddle, adjusting my hat against the glare of the sun and shielding my face from his view.
“She loves this ranch,” he shares eventually, his tone quieter. “But she loves the idea of the world outside of it more. She won’t admit it out loud, but it’s true.”
I follow his gaze ahead to Teagan. Her posture is straight and sure, her blonde braid swinging lightly between her shoulder blades.
Deacon looks over at me, a sharpness in his eyes.Brotherly protection.“Don’t give her a reason to think it’s a reality if it isn’t.” The words aren’t ill-willed or cruel. Just honest. The message is received loud and clear.Don’t lead her on if it’s not going anywhere.
By the time we reach the barn, the sky has darkened at the edges, clouds gathering in slow, deliberate layers. Ranger huffs an exhale beneath me as I swing down from the saddle, my boots hitting the ground with a solid thud. The familiar smells of hay and leather close in around me as I lead him into the barn. I loosen the girth and slide the saddle off.
I barely make it to the bunkhouse before the storm arrives in full. After my shower, I sit at the small desk by the window, the journal open in front of me. Myfingers rest loosely around the pen, turning it slowly, watching the dim light catch against the worn plastic.
