But I wasn't going to lie about what I felt, either. Not to her. Not to myself.
Maggie looked away first, and I wouldn’t have expected anything different. Only because since the moment our eyes met across that bar last week, I’d had a hard time looking away.
Owen clapped me on the shoulder and started talking about the operation—the cattle side, the expansion plans, the potential for growth. I listened and nodded and filed the information away, but part of my attention stayed on Maggie. Watching her interact with her family. Watching the way she moved through them—fixing Wyatt's collar before he walked off, exchanging a look with Ivy, dodging her mother's too-knowing gaze.
The rodeo continued around us, and I let myself settle into the rhythm of it. This was familiar territory—not rodeos specifically, but ranch life. The smells and sounds and constant motion of an operation that ran on hard work and stubborn optimism.
I'd grown up in this world. My family's place in Montana had been smaller than the Blackwood spread, but the bones were the same. Cattle and horses and land that demanded everything you had and gave back just enough to keep you coming.
I'd loved that ranch.
I'd lost it anyway.
The call had come when I was overseas, three months into a deployment that was supposed to be routine, but turned sideways. I’d just finished an op that cost two friends their lives. My commanding officer found me in the rubble, wearing an expression that told me everything before he said a word.
I still had my friends’ blood on my hands when his words registered. Small plane. Bad weather. Mechanical failure. No survivors.
Mom. Dad. Sarah.
Gone.
All of them, gone, while I was ten thousand miles away doing a job that suddenly felt meaningless. I couldn't even get home for the funeral—operational requirements, they said. Mission critical. By the time I made it back to Montana, there was nothing left but lawyers and paperwork and a ranch that echoed with ghosts.
I'd sold it. Couldn't bear to keep it. The money went into accounts I'd never touched—blood money, that's what it felt like. An inheritance I'd never wanted, earned from a loss I'd never recover from.
Six years later, that money was still sitting there. Waiting for something worth building. Waiting for a reason for me to stop moving.
I watched Maggie disappear into the crowd, her shoulders tight, her stride just a little too fast, and thought about reasons.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions and orientation.
Owen walked me through the main operation—cattle breeding, land management, the expansion plans that had everyone's attention. I listened carefully, asked questions where appropriate, and tried to get a sense of how the pieces fit together.
I also tracked Maggie without meaning to.
The competence I'd expected. The efficiency, the sharp tongue, the way she commanded respect without demanding it. But the gentleness—that surprised me. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe I'd seen it that night in Wild Creek, underneath all the armor. The soft parts she tried so hard to hide.
She'd let me see them once. In the dark, loose-limbed and unguarded, like I'd unlocked something she didn't know was closed.
Yeah. I'd been thinking about that.
I wondered if she'd ever let me see them again.
But what really caught my attention were the horses.
Blackwood Ranch had solid stock—working horses, mostly, bred for temperament and stamina rather than flash. But there was potential here. A few mares with excellent bloodlines. A training program that showed real thought behind it. The bones of something that could be genuinely impressive if someone invested the time and resources.
"Maggie's been wanting to expand the horse operation for years," Owen mentioned as we walked the paddocks. "She's got a good eye. Knows what she's doing. Just hasn't had the backing to really build it out."
"Cattle takes priority," I said. It wasn't a question. It was a known fact with ranches like these. Cattle was where the big money was if you did it right.
And it looked like the Blackwoods were doing it right.
Owen nodded, something complicated moving across his face. "Ivy's program is going to put us on the map. Made sense to invest there first." He paused. "But I'd like to see the horses get their due, too. Eventually."
Eventually. The word of people who meant well but hadn't figured out how to make it happen.
"What would it take?" I asked. "To build a real breeding program here?"
