Page 175 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

Moonlight catches the hard line of his jaw, the dark shadow of stubble, the worn leather glove hanging loose from one hand.

I stop beside the fence rail, shoulder brushing lightly against his arm. “Hey.”

Silas looks back toward the property lines. “How are you, Annie?”

I nod. “Good.”

“You’ve been working too hard,” he says eventually.

I snort softly. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

His mouth shifts again. He looks exhausted. Soul exhausted. Like responsibility has been chewing pieces off him for years and he’s only just now starting to notice what’s missing.

My chest aches unexpectedly. He’s been carrying all of this since he was eighteen years old. No wonder he snaps when it all gets too much for him.

And standing beside him now, with the fence stretching endlessly ahead of us and the ranch breathing in the dark, I finally see it clearly.

Not just the intimidating ranch boss everyone else sees or the man people whisper about like he was born carved from stone and expectation.

Just… a tired man trying so hard not to fail the people he loves that he’s forgotten he’s allowed to be human while doing it.

Before I can overthink it, I step closer.

Silas goes very still. Then I wrap my arms around him. For one stunned heartbeat, he doesn’t move at all. I don’t think anyone hugs this man first.

My cheek presses against the solid warmth of his chest, cardigan sleeves bunching against his jacket as I settle closer.

He’s warm despite the cold, broad beneath my arms, but there’s tension locked through him so deep it feels welded into bone.

His breath catches almost imperceptibly above my head.

“Annie,” he says softly, rougher than usual.

“You know,” I say against his chest, “for someone so terrifying, you’re actually kind of terrible at hiding when you’re hurting.”

A huff of laughter leaves him. Real laughter. Small, rusty, but real. “That so?”

“Mmhm.”

“And you’re an expert?”

“I’m emotionally avoidant and heavily caffeinated,” I inform him. “Basically a professional.”

We stay like that for a while, both of us needing this more than either of us realized.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Silas

The problem with Annie is that she makes honesty feel less avoidable.

Most people around Ironwood accept distance as a form of leadership. They mistake restraint for strength because restraint is cleaner, easier to live around, easier to inherit.

My entire life has been built on controlled responses, measured reactions, and useful silence.