Her arms burned.Her hands ached.Sweat ran down her spine and soaked into the waistband of her jeans.The sun sat heavy overhead, pressing into everything.She stayed in it.
Halfway through the next round, her grip slipped when a calf twisted hard at the last second.The iron dipped too close to her wrist.Titus caught her forearm before it could turn into a mistake.
“Watch it,” he muttered.
His hand stayed there for a fraction longer than necessary.Enough to steady.Enough to remind.She nodded once and took the next calf without missing pace.
Crew noise rose and fell around them.Laughter.Shouts.Someone passed a canteen down the line.Someone else wiped sweat with the back of their sleeve and kept moving.
Kyla didn’t look away from the work.She could feel Titus at her side without needing to check.Every time she shifted, he adjusted.Every time a calf surged, he took the brunt of it so she could keep the iron steady.
By the time the last calf came through, her muscles shook with effort.Her fingers curled tighter around the handle to compensate, knuckles aching inside the glove.She set the final mark clean.
When she straightened, her lungs pulled air in hard.For a second, the world tilted at the edges from exertion.Titus was there before she could step wrong.His hand came to her lower back, firm and steady, keeping her upright without making a show of it.
“You good,” he said.
She nodded, breath still uneven.“Yeah.”
He searched her face for a beat, then let his hand drop.The chute gate slammed open.The last calf bolted free, stumbling once before finding its footing and running for the far side of the pen.A cheer broke out across the fence line.
Kyla pulled off one glove with her teeth and wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead.Dust streaked across her skin.Sweat cooled in the breeze that cut through the corral.She turned toward the fence, scanning the crew without really seeing them.
What she felt instead was the shift.Not loud.Not declared.Just different.The way people looked at her now.Not testing.Not waiting for her to fail.Seeing.
Titus stepped up beside her again, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.“You didn’t miss one,” he said.
She huffed out a breath that almost turned into a laugh.“Didn’t plan to.”
His mouth twitched at that, the smallest break in the hard line he wore during work.From the other side of the pen, Emmitt clapped his hands once.“That’s it.Get the irons back in the pit.Drinks after.”
The crew started to break apart, some heading for water, some for the cookshack, others lingering to trade stories.Kyla flexed her fingers once, then twice, working feeling back into them.
Titus reached past her and took the iron from her grip without asking.His hand brushed hers as he did.Neither of them pulled away right away.
Then he turned, carried the iron back toward the fire ring, and she followed.The ground felt different under her boots.Not easier.Just hers.
The fire ring sat low and steady, coals glowing beneath a crust of ash.Titus stepped in first and set the iron back at the edge, turning the handle so it would cool without cracking.He watched it a second, then straightened.
Kyla came up beside him, close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm.Neither spoke right away.The work still ran through their bodies, breath not quite settled, muscles tight from the last push.
Around them, the crew broke into smaller circles.Someone passed a bottle.Someone else leaned against the rail.Laughter rolled across the yard.
Emmitt called out from near the gate.“You two planning to stand there all night or you coming for a drink?”
Kyla didn’t answer him.Her eyes stayed on the iron where it rested against the coals.The mark at the base caught the light just enough to show the lines cut into it.
The knife.
The B.
Titus followed her gaze.He reached out, turned the iron once more, then let his hand fall.“That’ll set clean,” he said.
She nodded.“It better.”
A beat passed.Then she shifted, stepping in closer, her hand finding the front of his shirt without hesitation.Not pulling.Not claiming.Just there.
His hand came to her waist in answer.Broad.Steady.He drew her in until there was no space left between them, their bodies lining up without effort.
