Blake sits on the creaky wooden porch steps of the ranch house, the kind that had weathered years of dust storms and coffee spills, the kind that groaned just like he did when mornings came too early.
The afternoon breeze tugs playfully at his dark hair as he stares out across the vast prairie, where the sun dips behind the hills like a cowboy slipping into a saloon after a long day.
Beside him, Rex lies stretched out like a shaggy security blanket with a heartbeat, his panting tongue lolled to the side, ears twitching at the occasional bird call or distant moo. His brown eyes weren't just watching the horizon…they were fixed on Blake. Watching. Waiting. Judging.
Blake let out a low sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "How the hell did this get so complicated, huh?"
Rex thumps his tail once and gives a low, huffy bark. Then, as if to make his feelings crystal clear, he licks Blake's boot with exaggerated flair.
Blake chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. You just want steak and belly rubs. It must be nice having such clear priorities."
Rex promptly flops over onto his back, paws in the air like a sunbathing possum, his belly exposed in full confidence and shamelessness.
A grin tugs at Blake's lips despite the tangle of thoughts in his chest. Because no matter how complicated life got…ex-girlfriends, messy almost-kisses, women with blue eyes and sharp wit…Rex has always kept things simple.
Across town, at the small but bustling Prairie Ridge hospital, Emma was in the middle of a difficult shoulder rehab session with Mr. Gerber, who swore up and down that "back in my day, we healed injuries with whiskey and duct tape."
But Emma's mind wasn't entirely on shoulders or stubborn clients.
It kept skipping like a scratched record back to Blake…the look in his eyes when he talked about things that mattered, the way his voice dropped low when he said her name, and of course, the moment they almost kissed before Rex bulldozed his way into their emotional progress like a very furry wrecking ball.
As she hands Mr. Gerber a resistance band, Tory appears in the doorway of the break room, holding her fourth coffee in one hand and a notepad titled "People Who Might Ruin Emma's Life" in the other.
"You need to be prepared," Tory says, barely whispering but somehow still dramatic. "Carrie's not just a memory, Em. She's the kind of girl who wears perfume to a bonfire and expects it to smell like Chanel."
Emma blinks. "Is that an actual metaphor or...?"
"Focus," Tory says, stalking into the room. "You met her. She's the kind of woman who says 'oops' after lighting a match near gasoline."
Emma rolls her eyes. "I'm not here to play games, T. I like Blake. But if he's still hung up on his ex, then I'll bow out."
Tory raises a perfectly manicured brow. "Which is exactly why you need to win."
Back at the ranch, the day had wound down, but the ranch hands hadn't.
Blake stood in the barnyard with Cody and Jace, two of his more seasoned guys, going over repair plans for the south paddock.
"She's saggin' like my grandma's mattress," Cody says, pointing to the leaning corner post. "Needs replacing, or one of the bulls figures it out and takes a tour."
Jace, always more interested in gossip than fencing, glances toward the house. "Emma coming by again soon?" he asks with a too-innocent smirk.
Blake gives him a side-eye. "Is that your business, Jace?"
"Only if I gotta warn the livestock, she is prettier than the average gal out there. Could cause distractions." He winks teasingly. "Rex likes her."
"Rex likes bacon grease and belly rubs. He's not exactly picky."
Cody laughs. "Still, she's got you smiling more than usual. That's somethin'."
Blake grunts noncommittally, though the truth is clear on his face. He hasn't felt this off-kilter in years. Not since...
He shakes the thought off.
"Let's wrap this up before dark," he says, avoiding any more probing.
Jace mutters under his breath, "Cowboy's getting soft," before heading to the fence line with a crooked grin.
Later that evening, Blake sits alone on the porch again, nursing a cold beer. A sleek, black SUV with out-of-state plates rolls down the drive…his silent partner in the corporate world, here for the quarterly check-in.
"You're early," Blake calls as the man steps out.
"Your investments are on fire. Figured you'd want the good news in person."
Blake waves him off. "Put it in the email like usual."
"You're one of the only guys I know worth eight figures who wears boots with holes in them."
"That's the idea." Blake agrees, his eyes staying on the darkening sky. "Let people think I'm just the ranch guy."
Mateo, his long time friend from college and business partner, sighs. "Fine. But if you decide to finally buy that second property in Montana, let me know before you wire the funds."
"I'll think about it."
Blake's wealth wasn't something he hid out of shame. He just didn't want it changing how people saw him. Especially Emma.
That night, as Emma arrives at the ranch with a fresh batch of pastries and an apology for tripping over and breaking a basket full of eggs, she finds Blake alone in the barn, cursing quietly at a stubborn pipe that refuses to stay sealed.
"Need a second opinion, or just someone to hand you tools while you argue with plumbing?" she asks.
Blake grins at the sound of her voice. "Depends. Are you any good with a wrench?"
"I'm better at back muscles and busted shoulders. But I can fake it."
They work side by side, laughter echoing in the barn as they fumble through the fix. At one point, a sudden spray of cold water hits Blake square in the face. Emma burst out laughing, doubling over.
"You look like a drenched dog," she manages between giggles.
Blake wipes his face, water dripping off his nose. "Glad I could amuse you, darlin'."
Rex barks enthusiastically and bounds over, wagging his tail like he approves of the chaos.
Their eyes meet, and the moment teeters on the edge again.
"Emma..." Blake says, stepping closer.
Emma bites her lip, nervous and hopeful, just as…
CRASH!
A shovel clatters off its hook and nearly takes out Blake's foot. Rex barks in alarm, spinning in circles.
Emma snorts. "Your dog's either our guardian angel or our relationship chaperone."
Blake sighs dramatically. "He's cockblocking me harder than a nun with a cattle prod."
At her own ranch, Megan tosses her phone onto the table, having just finished a call with Mom.
"He's doing it again," she tells her husband as they clean tack together.
"Who? Doing what?" he asks, brushing a saddle with practiced ease.
"Getting serious with someone and pretending he's not. He's emotionally constipated."
He chuckles. "Like every cowboy we know."
Megan narrows her eyes. "Except most cowboys we know, aren't billionaires with a fear of emotional intimacy."
"Just let it be...if it's meant to be, it will happen." He advises.
In town, Carrie isn't sitting still.
She appears at the farmers' market. The diner. Even drops by the feed store in heels, claiming she needed chicken wire.
The gossip machine was churning, and Carrie knew how to stir it.
Carrie launches what could only be described as Phase Two of her plan.
She corners anyone with ears and drops carefully worded bombs.
"I hear Emma's not even planning to stay long," she whispers to a store clerk. "You know how city girls are."
"I hear she has commitment issues..." she tells a friend of hers.
And in a town like Prairie Ridge, gossip doesn't just spread…it boomerangs. And it isn't long before Tory gets wind of it, and then Megan, and then most of the townsfolk.
But Blake? He is focused on Emma, Rex, and fixing a ranch with a leaky barn and a very complicated heart.
By the end of another week, after a long day, Emma leans against the fence with Blake, both watching the stars emerge over the pasture. The hum of crickets filling the silence.
"You ever think about what comes next?" she asks softly.
Blake looks at her for a long moment.
"Yeah," he says. "Lately, I think about it more than I ever used to."
Rex trots up with a stick in his mouth, tail wagging expectantly.
Emma takes the stick, tosses it, and watches the dog take off.
"Is that a good thing?" she asks.
Blake smiles. "Best one I've had in years."
Later that evening, as Blake sits on his porch, after Emma has left, with Rex snoring at his feet, the moonlight shining bright...his mind wanders.
To Emma's laugh.
To the way she looks at him like he was worth figuring out.
To the chaos of Carrie's reappearance and the calm of Emma's presence.
He reaches down and scratches behind Rex's ears. "What do you think, partner?"
Rex's tail thumps once.
And Blake smiles.