I closed my eyes. The sound of the rooster's crow sliced through the silence of the early morning. I breathed in the crisp air; the smell of manure mixed with pine filled my senses. Lifting my arms above my head, I stretched and headed out toward the stalls to begin the day's work.

The horses eagerly greeted me with a combination of snorts and whinnies.

"Good morning, ladies." I tipped my hat to the other side of the barn. "Gents." I then went up to stroke my favorite horse, Pretty Girl. She was a beautiful chestnut Quarter Horse I had since she was a foal.

"Hey there, girl, you hungry?"

I scooped some horse feed in a cup and began feeding each horse before moving on to cleaning out the stalls.

It was midafternoon when my dad found me moving the cattle to the next pasture to graze.

"Looking good out here, Colt. I think we're about ready for the first cut of hay." He leaned against the fence, nodding toward the pasture.

"Yeah, I was thinking that. I'll check the equipment later and make sure it's working well, and we can get that started."

He waved his hand at me. "Colt, you know I have ranch hands for that. You don't need to do everything. Besides, your mom probably needs more help than I do."

"Dad, it's the end of summer. You know this is a busy time for the ranch. Once it slows down more in late fall, then I will too. Besides, I told Mom I would be back up at the lodge to tend to the horses as soon as I was done here."

Sighing, he turned to face me. "You know I appreciate your hard work, Son. You take care of this ranch like it's your own. And it will be one day, if that is what you still want. Just make sure you're also taking care of yourself." He patted my shoulder, turned, and sauntered off towards his pickup.

I glanced back out to the field and watched the cows grazing without a care in the world. I was taking care of myself. That pasture, those cows, the horses back in their stalls—they were all I needed. I took care of them, and they took care of me in return.

* * * * *

The stalls at the lodge were already cleaned by the time I arrived, so I grabbed the grooming brushes and got to work on each horse's mane and coat.

It was simple, familiar work—steady, grounding. The kind that didn't require thought, only rhythm. I was born into ranch life, and I was good at it.

Better than good. It was where I made sense.

There was comfort in routine. It kept me busy, kept my hands moving, and most importantly, kept my mind from drifting where I didn't want it to go.

I preferred it that way—alone, focused, buried in work. The ranching life gave me an escape from thoughts that used to follow me everywhere.

Thoughts that still found their way back in whenever things got too loud.

After I finished up with the stalls, I headed inside the lodge, intent on heading to my room to take a quick shower before grabbing dinner. Since I worked the stalls at the lodge, I was reserved a room to use if I ever needed it.

Stripping myself of my clothes, I stepped into the shower. The hot water cascaded down my body, soothing my sore muscles from a hard day's work. I placed my hand against the stone shower wall and leaned into the water as it flowed over me, causing the built up tension in my body to relax.

Once I fully scrubbed the day's work away, I turned off the faucets and stepped out to towel off and dress. I threw on a clean pair of Wranglers and a shirt before making my way down to the lobby to find my mom.

She was on the phone when I found her, holding up her finger and gesturing for me to wait. When she finished her conversation, she immediately came around the desk and pulled me in for a hug.

"Hey, Hun, what are you doing?"

"Just finished up with grooming the horses. I got out here a bit late, so the stalls were already cleaned out by Jess. Sorry 'bout that. Dad's took a bit longer than I expected."

She eyed me like I was about to hear the lecture I had heard from both her and my dad dozens of times already. Honestly, I was surprised they even still tried. Either way, she seemed to have thought better of it and gave me a glossed-over version instead.

"What are you doing in an hour?"

"I was about to eat and head back to the ranch."

"We have a live band playing out on the patio tonight. I'll see you there, yeah?" She gently squeezed my arm, heading back behind the front desk.

It wasn't a question. I knew better than that. Like I said, it was the glossed-over version saying what I've heard from her dozens of times—that I needed to do more than solely work, eat, sleep, and repeat. It was the same thing dad had meant that morning when he told me to make sure I was taking care of myself.

I usually could get away with arguing with my dad. My mom, however, had me wrapped around her finger. I was a mama's boy through and through. I wouldn't say no to her, and she knew it.

Sighing, I headed toward the bar for a burger and a drink; I was going to need it.

* * * * *

The band playing were regulars at the lodge, covering country songs with more talent than I expected. I sat back on one of the white sofas arranged around a firepit, beer in hand, letting the music settle over me.

In front of me, the fire burned low and steady, red and orange embers drifting upward, popping softly into the night air, revealing another flame walking toward me.

Her auburn hair caught the firelight first, drawing my attention completely away from everything else. She was walking with her boyfriend—the same guy from the night before.

She hadn't noticed me yet, so I took the opportunity to drink her in. Her hair fell loose around her face, framing her slender features, while a soft red tinted her pouty lips.She wore a short black dress that hugged her curves, pairing it with cowgirl boots in an effort to fit in with the lodge crowd, though something about her felt out of place.

Not in a bad way.

Just... different.

I just wasn't sure if it was because she reeked of the city or if it was because she was made to stand out.

From experience though, she was probably like the rest of the type that passed through here—tourists chasing a version of the West they'd seen in photos, here long enough for Instagram pictures and a drink, quoting themselves as "experiencing country life", and gone before they ever got their hands dirty.

Her oval eyes finally caught my gaze, and they widened, surely surprised to see me, before narrowing into a glare.

I couldn't blame her for the spiteful frown; I basically insinuated she was a call girl. I would like to blame it on the alcohol, but I knew, even sober, I still would have made a comment on his behavior, albeit less insulting toward her. That part was definitely uncalled for.

I should probably stay away from the hard liquor.

I was drinking away my unwanted thoughts when I heard him order her around. He was throwing out one vague complaint after another. Nothing seemed to please him. It was either the lodge, the variety of food, or the prices. She kept apologizing like it was her fault. Then he had the nerve to send her to get his beer in a demeaning tone. It ticked me off more than it should have.

But I hated guys like that, guys who did not appreciate what they had.

Just as luck would have it, he pulled her over to the couch catty-corner from mine.

I kept my gaze on her longer than I needed to.

She tried to avoid it, eyes dropping to her hands, to the fire, anywhere but me—but every so often, she glanced back. Quick. Unintentional. Like she was trying to convince herself not to.

I shouldn't have been watching her so closely.

I knew that.

But I was anyway.

And what bothered me most wasn't that she noticed.

It was that I didn't want her to think she had to stop looking back.

I finally forced my attention to the band. Taking another swig of my drink, I tried to clear my head as I watched the couples who were beginning to dance, relaxing into the peace of the night, as the music shifted into something slower.

The mood of the night also shifted. Fairy lights glowed overhead, in competition with the glow of the setting sun, and the embers of the fire popped into the sky like dancing fireflies. The whole place looked like it was trying to turn itself into a memory.

When I looked back again, she wasn't watching me anymore. Her attention had shifted to the dancers. Her eyes held a sparkle, and her expression had changed—softer now, almost unguarded, like something inside her had loosened just enough to let herself want something.

She wanted to dance.

It was more than obvious.

Except to the guy next to her.

It was also obvious that she wasn't going to ask for it.

I exhaled slowly, shifting my beer in my hand. It wasn't my business.

That was the truth I should've stayed with.

Then he stood up.

For half a second, something in me tightened—stupid, instinctive—like maybe he'd finally do something right.

But instead, he leaned down, said something in her ear, kissed her cheek like it was her grand prize, and walked back inside without her.

My jaw ticked before I even realized it.

She watched him walk away with a frown on her face, and when she looked back, her eyes fell on mine, her expression then stone cold.

Tell me, why in the hell did that bother me?

I took a last pull of my beer as I held her eyes over the rim of the bottle before standing up and walking away.

I didn't know the answer to that, but I sure as hell didn't feel like sticking around to find out.

Hey there! Nice to see you again😉 You have now been officially introduced to the main characters. Hope you're feeling those "read on" vibes!

Has anyone judged you by just appearances?

I've been told several times by people that they thought I was stuck up, until they got to know me and realized how nice I was! Sometimes those first impressions can be a pain!