“Your father would be proud,” Steven said suddenly, catching her off guard. “You’ve kept this place going against all odds.”
Elaina felt a lump form in her throat. “I hope so. This ranch is my heritage, my past, and future.” Her hand brushed against a splintered post, and she recoiled slightly, a small sound of pain escaping her lips.
“Here, let me see.” Steven took her hand gently in his, examining the tiny sliver of wood embedded in her skin. His touch was soft, careful as he drew out the splinter. His hazel eyes were filled with concern as he looked up at her. “All better?”
“Yes, thank you,” she murmured, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his hand still enveloping hers. She’d never imagined the man she’d sent for to help her run her ranch would be so...appealing to her.
*****
STEVEN HEAVED THE LASTbale of hay into the loft, muscles aching with the day’s labor. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he noticed a neatly folded cloth on the edge of the loft. Curious, he ambled over and found that it was not just any cloth but a thick blanket protecting a basket. The aroma wafting up to him was unmistakable—beef stew, still warm, accompanied by freshly baked cornbread.
“Elaina,” he murmured with a small, appreciative smile. He hadn’t made it into the house for lunch that day, instead working on getting the last of the hay into the loft before the rain clouds that were threatening opened up and drenched them. The stew was a sweet gesture. He’d gone without lunch before and would again he was certain. But today he wouldn’t have to, and he was thankful for that. He ate quickly and set the basket by the barn door, ready to take to the house when he was finished with the day’s work.
Later that week, after a long day mending fences, Steven discovered his favorite shirt hanging on the line, the tear along the seam now expertly stitched. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Elaina, yet there it was, mended as if by magic. A tightness in his chest loosened at the realization that she cared enough to tend to such details. His hand lingered on the fabric, tracing the neat stitches, and he felt a surge of gratitude for this extraordinary woman who had come into his life so unexpectedly.
Most days she worked outside with him, but she took care of him when she didn’t. She did it in little ways, but he was always appreciative of her efforts.
Steven found Elaina in the barn. Her hair shimmered like spun gold, and her green eyes held flecks of silver in the dim light.
“Care for some company?” he called softly, not wanting to startle her.
“Always,” she replied, her voice as soothing as the gentle breeze that whispered through the open barn door. She stood from her task of seeing to bottle feeding one of the calves.
Steven hesitated, then took a step closer to Elaina. Their hands brushed and an electric current passed between them.
“Elaina,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “may I—”
“Yes,” she answered, knowing instinctively what he sought.
Their lips met in a kiss that was both tentative and certain, a promise of something deeper. They pulled away, breathless, their gazes locked in a silent conversation only they could understand.
“Would you dance with me?” Steven asked, heart pounding.
“In here?” Elaina’s eyes danced with amusement. “There’s no music.”
“Then we’ll make our own,” he said with a grin, offering his hand.
She took it, and they swayed in the moonlit barn, moving to the rhythm of his off-key humming. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of their soft laughter and the creaking of old wood beneath their feet.
As the dance ended, they stood forehead to forehead, the connection between them stronger than ever.
He knew from watching his parents that it was never good to let a moment pass that could be spent with the one he cared for. That he loved. Of course, he wasn’t ready to say that to Elaina just yet.
*****
ELAINA’S HANDS MOVEDwith practiced ease, the rough rope slipping through her fingers as she secured the last of the day’s hay bales. Steven worked opposite her, his broad back a testament to the labor they’d both grown accustomed to. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and distant thunder murmured like a promise on the horizon.
“Looks like a storm’s brewing,” Elaina said, glancing out the barn door at the gathering clouds. A drop of sweat trailed down her temple.
“Good for the crops,” Steven replied, tying off his bale with a final tug. “Bad for late-night work.”
Elaina nodded, swiping her brow with the back of her hand. She couldn’t shake the sense of unease that had settled over her. Something felt off, but she could ill afford distractions. The ranch needed every ounce of their attention.
“Let’s call it a night after we check on the cattle,” she suggested, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.
“Agreed,” Steven said. One bad storm could ruin their entire year’s worth of income, and they both felt something in the air.
They made their way to the cattle pens, the first fat raindrops pattering against the wooden beams of the barn. They were nearly done for the night when Elaina paused, a frown creasing her forehead.
