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I felt a wave of relief flood through me. “Me too.”

The words felt right, but heavier than they should have.

COWBOYS CRY TOO

The moment we got back to the farm, everything fell right back into place—morning chores, slow afternoons in the flower field, quiet evenings on the porch. It should’ve felt the same. Hell, it looked the same. But Rose was different this week.

She wasn’t distant, but something about her felt off. Like she was here, going through the motions, but part of her was somewhere else. I caught it in the way she moved, the way she smiled—quick and practiced, like she didn’t want me looking too close.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I told myself I was reading too much into things. But the more I paid attention, the more obvious it became.

Like now, she was standing by the stove, stirring her coffee, even though she hadn’t taken a sip. Her grip on the spoon was too tight, her shoulders too tense.

I leaned against the counter next to her, arms crossed. “You okay?”

She looked up, eyes meeting mine for half a second before darting away. “Yeah,” she said, too quick. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

I nodded, not pushing, even though I wanted to.

I watched her for another second, waiting to see if she’d add anything. She didn’t. Just went back to stirring that damn coffee like it held all the answers she wasn’t giving me.

I pushed off the counter, grabbing my hat from the hook by the door. “I’m gonna go check on the horses.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look up.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the yard. The air was cool, thick with the scent of cut grass and hay, but I couldn’t shake the tight feeling in my chest. Something was wrong.

The horses were grazing lazily by the fence, their tails flicking at flies. I ran a hand over Boone’s neck, the familiar weight of routine grounding me, even if my mind was still back in that kitchen.

Rose and I had settled into something steady here. Comfortable. But now, it felt like she was pulling away, little by little. And the worst part? I had no damn idea why.

I could ask again. Push her to talk. But Rose had walls, and the more you pushed, the higher they got.

So instead, I stood there in the quiet, staring out over the fields, hoping like hell she’d let me in before I had to break the damn door down myself.

I waited until after dinner to ask her. She was quieter than usual, still caught up in whatever had been on her mind all week, but I wanted to shake her out of it. Bring her back to me.

“You up for a bonfire tonight?” I asked, watching her reaction carefully.

She blinked, as if pulling herself out of her thoughts. “First one of the season?”

I nodded.

For a second, I thought she might say no. I could see it in the way she hesitated, lips parting like she was about to make up an excuse. But then she nodded. “That sounds nice.”

It wasn’t the excitement I was hoping for, but at least she wasn’t shutting me out completely.

Rose had offered to clean up after dinner, so I left her to it, stepping out into the cool night air to get the fire going.

The familiar scent of burning wood filled my lungs as the flames took hold, crackling and spitting embers into the dark sky. I watched the fire build, feeding it piece by piece, the heat warming my face even as something colder settled in my chest.

Once the flames roared to life, steady and strong, I dusted off my hands and headed back inside. Rose was still at the sink, her back to me, lost in thought as she wiped down the counter with slow, methodical strokes.

“It’s ready,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

She paused, her shoulders tensing for half a second before she turned to face me. “I’ll be right out.”

I stepped back outside, the night air wrapping around me as I settled into my usual spot by the fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across the ground, their warmth doing little to thaw the unease sitting heavy in my chest.