4.
1178 Words
The morning started like most mornings on the ranch—quiet, warm, and already buzzing with work before the sun had fully climbed into the sky.
Sierra stepped out onto the porch and stretched the stiffness from her shoulders, rolling one arm before the other as she scanned the fields. Horses grazed lazily in the pasture beyond the fence line, tails flicking at flies while the breeze carried the dry scent of hay and dust across the yard.
It should have felt normal.
Instead, her gaze landed immediately on the equipment shed.
Asher was already there.
He stood beside the old tractor with the hood propped open, leaning over the engine while studying something inside. His sleeves were rolled up again, forearms braced against the metal as he worked.
Sierra frowned.
He’d only been here a day.
Why was he already acting like he belonged?
She hopped down the porch steps and crossed the yard, boots crunching softly over gravel.
“You planning on rebuilding that thing?” she called.
Asher glanced up from the engine. He straightened slightly, wiping his hands on a rag before nodding toward the open hood.
“Loose belt,” he said simply.
Sierra folded her arms across her chest, skeptical.
“That tractor’s been running fine for ten years.”
“It’ll run better if the belt doesn’t snap in the middle of a field.”
Her mouth opened, ready with another retort—
But the screen door creaked open behind her.
Her father stepped onto the porch with a mug of coffee in his hand, leaning casually against the railing as he surveyed the yard the way he always did in the mornings.
“Morning,” he said.
“Mornin’,” Sierra muttered, not taking her eyes off Asher.
Her father nodded toward the tractor.
“Everything alright with it?”
Asher stepped back from the engine and wiped his hands again.
“Just tightening something up.”
Her father hummed approvingly and took a sip of his coffee.
“Good catch.”
Sierra shot Asher a look sharp enough to cut wood.
Her father either didn’t notice or chose not to.
“You two heading out to the south pasture today?” he asked.
Sierra groaned, dragging a hand through her braid.
“We fixed most of the fence yesterday.”
“Most,” he repeated.
Which meant the answer was yes.
Sierra sighed dramatically.
“Fine.”
She grabbed the truck keys from the hook by the door and headed toward the driveway.
Asher followed without a word.
The truck rumbled along the ranch road, tires kicking up a long trail of dust behind them as the pastures rolled by in waves of dry grass.
Sierra drove with one hand on the wheel, her elbow resting against the door while the wind pushed loose strands of hair across her face.
Beside her, Asher looked out the window at the land stretching around them.
“You’ve got a nice place here,” he said after a moment.
Sierra shrugged, eyes still on the road.
“It’s a lot of work.”
They pulled up beside the south pasture fence where several posts still leaned slightly from yesterday’s repairs. Sierra killed the engine and hopped out, grabbing tools from the truck bed.
The air smelled faintly of warm earth and horses.
They worked steadily along the fence line, hammering posts and tightening wire while the sun climbed higher overhead.
The work fell into an easy rhythm.
Sierra hated how easily Asher kept up.
He didn’t complain.
Didn’t slow down.
Didn’t try to take over either.
He just worked.
Eventually the pasture sloped downward toward a thin line of cottonwood trees.
Beyond them, the creek shimmered through the leaves.
Asher paused, resting a hand on the fence post as he glanced toward the water.
“Ever take breaks out here?”
Sierra followed his gaze before snorting.
“It’s a ranch,” she said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Not summer camp.”
Asher tilted his head slightly.
“Pretty sure five minutes won’t shut the place down.”
“We don’t take breaks.”
“Not even you?”
“No.”
He looked unconvinced.
Before Sierra could continue arguing, a familiar voice drifted across the pasture.
“Well that’s a lie.”
Sierra turned.
Wyatt strolled toward them from the far gate, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Sunlight caught in his blond hair as he approached, his easy grin already aimed in Sierra’s direction.
“Saw the truck,” Wyatt said when he reached them. “Figured you’d be out here.”
Sierra leaned against the fence post.
“We’re working.”
Wyatt looked between her and Asher, clearly amused.
“You look miserable.”
“I am miserable.”
Wyatt laughed softly under his breath.
“What?” Sierra demanded.
Asher crossed his arms.
“I suggested a break.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow.
“And she said no?”
“Of course she did,” Wyatt said with a grin.
Sierra glared at both of them.
“You two done?”
Wyatt’s grin only widened.
“C’mon, Si. We used to swim here all the time.”
“That was when we were ten.”
“And?”
“And I have work to do.”
Wyatt didn’t respond.
Instead he kicked off his boots.
Sierra blinked.
“Wyatt—”
Too late.
He sprinted toward the creek and dove in with a loud splash.
Water sprayed up through the trees.
A moment later Wyatt surfaced, pushing wet hair back from his face.
“Still freezing!” he called.
Beside her, Asher chuckled.
Sierra looked between the two of them.
Absolutely not.
She turned toward the truck.
“Have fun. I’m finishing the—”
Another splash cut her off.
She whipped around.
Asher had jumped in.
He resurfaced beside Wyatt, shaking water from his hair before resting his arms against the edge of the bank.
Both of them looked up at her.
Expectantly.
Sierra planted her hands on her hips.
“You’re both idiots.”
Wyatt leaned back in the water with a shrug.
“Probably.”
Asher tilted his head slightly.
“You coming in,” he asked, “or just judging from up there?”
Sierra opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
She looked around the wide stretch of pasture.
Looked at the creek.
Looked at the two idiots floating in it.
Then, before she could overthink it—
She kicked off her boots and jumped.
The cold water knocked the breath out of her as she hit the surface.
When she came up gasping, Wyatt whooped.
“There she is!”
Sierra shoved him immediately.
“Don’t make a big deal about it.”
But something surprising happened then.
Asher laughed.
Not smug.
Not teasing.
Just… genuine.
And for the first time since he’d arrived on the ranch, Sierra didn’t immediately feel the urge to argue with him.
Which, honestly, was more unsettling than anything else.
- Writer
