And it bothered her more than it should have.
"You did a good job," she admitted.
"Thank you."
Silence settled between them.
Not an uncomfortable silence.
That surprised Kaia.
She had known Garrett Callaway for nearly six years.
They had exchanged perhaps fifty words during that time.
He had always been distant.
Not rude.
Not unfriendly.
Just... closed.
There were stories about him in town.
Some said he had once been engaged.
Others said his fiancée had died.
A few claimed she had left him.
No one knew the truth.
Kaia had never cared enough to ask.
Until now.
"You really don't use the north meadow?" she asked.
"Not much."
"Why?"
Garrett glanced toward the meadow.
"Old memories."
She waited.
He didn't elaborate.
Kaia nodded.
"Fair enough."
She turned Rain.
"You can have it for two weeks."
"I appreciate that."
He looked at her.
"You planning to move your cattle there yourself?"
"Of course."
"I'll help."
"I can manage."
"I know."
"Then why offer?"
"Because moving cattle is easier with two people."
Kaia studied him.
"You always this stubborn?"
"Usually."
"At least you're honest."
"I try to be."
He rode beside her for a while.
They spoke little.
But something had changed.
The fence between their ranches was repaired.
The invisible fence between them was beginning to weaken.
Two weeks later, Kaia moved her herd into the north meadow.
Garrett helped her.
They worked from sunrise until nearly noon.
At one point, Rain startled at a rabbit and nearly threw Kaia from the saddle.
Garrett caught her horse's reins.
"You all right?"
"I'm fine."
"You nearly fell."
"I said I'm fine."
His hand remained on the reins.
Kaia looked down.
His fingers were close to hers.
Neither moved.
Then Rain snorted.
The moment broke.
Garrett released the reins.
"Sorry."
Kaia shook her head.
"Thank you."
They continued working.
That afternoon, they sat beneath an old cottonwood and ate lunch.
Kaia had brought bread, cheese, apples, and smoked meat.
Garrett had coffee.
She looked at his cup.
"You carry coffee everywhere?"
"Usually."
"Even horseback?"
"Especially horseback."
She laughed softly.
Garrett looked at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You were staring."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Kaia took another bite of apple.
"You're observant."
"I've had to be."
She studied him.
"Why?"
Garrett looked across the meadow.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he spoke quietly.
"My father taught me."
"Is he alive?"
"No."
Kaia's expression softened.
"I'm sorry."
Garrett nodded.
"He died twelve years ago."
"Your mother?"
"Before that."
She didn't ask anything else.
After a moment, Garrett said, "What about your family?"
Kaia looked down at her hands.
"My father died when I was twenty."
"And your mother?"
"Three years later."
Garrett nodded.
"So we're both stubborn orphans."
Kaia laughed.
"That sounds terrible."
"It does."
"But accurate."
They smiled.
Neither noticed how natural it felt.