Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

LANDON

L andon watched as Dakota approached, the gentle morning light of Copper Canyon Ranch kissing her dark hair with a halo of russet and gold. There was something different about her today; an ease had settled on her features, smoothing out the creases of weariness that had marred her beauty when he’d first met her. She looked better rested, like a storm had passed and left behind clear blue skies in her eyes.

"Morning," he drawled, his voice low and even, betraying none of the keen interest that quickened his pulse.

"Good morning, Landon," she replied, her voice carrying the melody of a distant, haunting song. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile, those depths that held secrets like the canyon held shadows.

Dakota's gaze wandered around the dimly lit interior of the barn, taking in everything. She seemed genuinely interested, leaning forward slightly as if the very beams could tell her their stories to her. But every so often, a sudden noise—the creak of a saddle, the snap of a twig underfoot – would make her tense, her body coiling tight as a spring before she relaxed again.

"Everything all right?" Landon asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, missing nothing.

"Yes, just... not used to all these sounds, I guess," she admitted, offering him a self-deprecating smile that did little to mask her underlying tension. "City life doesn't prepare you for the symphony of nature, or the sheer space of it all."

He nodded, recognizing that Dakota was like a beautiful swan, seeming to glide across the calm surface of a pond, while underneath her feet were paddling wildly, as if ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. It was a wariness born of a life that hadn't been kind, and it stirred something protective in him. He wanted to show her that there was peace to be found here, among the whispering grasses and the steady rhythm of ranch life.

"Give it time," Landon said, his voice a soft rumble rolling across the open fields. "This land has a way of speaking to your soul, if you let it."

A breeze kicked up then, stirring the dust and sagebrush across the barnyard, carrying with it the promise of untamed freedom. It played with the edges of Dakota's hair, and Landon allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to tangle his fingers in those dark locks, pulling her close and breathing in the scent of her—a mix intoxicating and wild.

"Got time for a grand tour?" he asked, leaning against the weathered wooden ladder that led to the loft.

“Sure. I don’t work until this evening.”

"That sounds good."

Dakota's gaze lingered on the horizon before settling on Landon, her lips curving into a hesitant smile. "I've got a few hours to spare."

"Perfect." He pushed off from the ladder, anticipation coiling within him like a lasso ready to be thrown. "You up for exploring? We can take the ATV..." His voice trailed off as he observed her, giving her the space to make her own choice.

"Or?" she prompted, tilting her head slightly, a cascade of dark hair spilling over her shoulder.

"Or we could go by horseback." He watched her carefully, noting the way her eyes sparkled at the mention of horses, like twin sapphires catching the rays from the sun.

Her response came with a brightness that cut through her usual reserve. "I'm not exactly an expert rider," Dakota confessed, a blush coloring her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. "But I've always loved horses."

"Then horses it'll be." Landon couldn't suppress the pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Watching her face light up reminded him of how the land came alive after the first rain—full of possibilities and new life.

He gestured towards the stalls, where the sound of hooves and the warm scent of hay mingled with the earthy aroma of the ranch. Each step they took closer to the animals stirred something primitive within him, an echo of a time when man and beast were not so different. It was a feeling he seldom acknowledged, one that spoke of wild things and moonlit nights.

"Ever since I was little, I've felt drawn to them," Dakota continued, her voice a melodious hum that settled in Landon's chest, vibrating in tune with the hidden currents of the land.

"Animals have a way of seeing right through us," Landon mused. "They sense what’s inside, maybe even the parts we don't know ourselves." His words floated between them, an acknowledgment of the secrets they both carried.

The thought of guiding her, of holding her steady as she learned the rhythm of the horse beneath her, sent a thrill down his spine. The notion of her trusting him enough to let down those walls she'd built around herself, even just a fraction, was a temptation he found hard to resist.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand, palm up, in a silent offer of partnership.

Dakota placed her hand in his, a spark of connection igniting as their skin touched. They stood there—the cowboy and puzzling beauty—bound by something unseen yet palpable—a seductive undercurrent of mutual intrigue and the whisper of a shared destiny unfolding beneath the vast Texas sky.

Landon watched Dakota's reaction as he led the horses out of their stalls and out into the light, their hooves striking the parched ground with a rhythmic beat that echoed the pounding in his chest. The sun was still rising on the eastern horizon, painting it with strokes of fiery orange and deepening blue—a backdrop as dramatic as the emotions stirring within him.

A half-smile played on his lips as he offered her the reins to a gentle palomino gelding. Landon's own mount, a robust blue roan, snorted impatiently, mirroring its rider's barely contained excitement. Dakota's gaze flitted between the powerful beasts, her eyes reflecting the light, shimmering with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. She arched an eyebrow at him, a silent question hanging in the air.

In response, Landon shrugged, the motion nonchalant but his heart racing under the weight of anticipation. “I was hoping you’d pick horses,” he confessed, the gravelly tone of his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. He held her gaze just slightly longer than necessary, inviting her into this shared secret, into the adventure that loomed before them.

The air was thick with the scent of dry earth and the promise of rain, a tension that mirrored the electric charge that zapped through the space separating Landon from Dakota. She approached the palomino with cautious grace, her hand brushing against the gelding’s flank in a tender gesture that spoke volumes of her innate gentleness.

“Need a hand?” he offered.

“No. I think I’m good.”

He climbed onto his horse with practiced ease, muscles flexing beneath his denim shirt as he settled into the saddle. His gaze lingered on her form as she swung a leg over the saddle, the movement fluid despite her professed inexperience. The sight sent a jolt of heat through him, igniting a primal desire that was as much a part of him as the land he loved.

As they set off, the rhythm of the horses' gait provided a hypnotic counterpoint to the rush of blood in Landon's veins. He watched Dakota adjust to the horse’s movements, her body finding the natural sway of the ride. The landscape around them stretched endlessly—a kind of wild beauty that seemed to envelop them.

Every so often, Landon stole a glance at Dakota, pointing out various land points. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she bit her lip in concentration, or the wind-tossed strands of hair that escaped her ponytail to dance freely around her face.

He could feel the pull of the unknown between them, a magnetic force that drew him closer with each passing second. Yet, he remained guarded, aware of the perilous path that lay ahead, where passion and danger often rode side by side. It was a road he knew all too well—one that demanded caution even as it beckoned with the sweet allure of the forbidden.

The sun began to climb into the sky, casting its rays over Copper Canyon as Landon led Dakota to the vegetable garden that stood as a testament to his mother's once vibrant presence. The scent of earth and growing things filled the air, mingling with the subtle perfume of wildflowers that lay in neatly tilled rows.

"This was my mom's pride and joy," he began, dismounting with the ease of a man born to the saddle. His boots on the gravel path as he walked to the fence made a kind of grinding noise, leaning against it, his gaze lingering on the rich soil. "It fell into neglect after she passed."

Dakota followed suit, her movements graceful even as she stepped onto unfamiliar ground. She approached the fence line, her eyes taking in the expanse of greenery that thrived under the care of loving hands.

"Your mother must have been quite the gardener if this is your idea of neglected," she teased. Although her tone was light, it carried the reverence of one who understood loss.

Landon chuckled. “Oh trust me, before Briar joined us it was nothing but weeds and rattlesnakes. Both my mom and Briar could just make things grow. Not just plants, but hope. After she was gone, this place lost its soul. It turned wild, untamed..." He paused, his words trailing off as he looked at Dakota, finding a kindred spirit in her attentive silence. "Then Briar brought it back to life."

A veil of shadows played across Dakota's features, the rays of sunlight illuminating her eyes, making them shimmer like the surface of a deep lake at twilight. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

"Come on," he said, pushing away from the fence, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched curiosity bloom on her face. "I'll show you more."

They mounted their horses once again, the steady pace allowing them to drink in the sights of the ranch. The land rolled out before them, a sprawling canvas dotted with cattle and the occasional flash of movement from wildlife that called the canyon home. As they rode, the connection between human and horse melded them into the landscape—a seamless portrait of life on the frontier.

Landon glanced at his watch. "Best get ready for your shift," Landon said, turning back to the barn and then offering a hand to help Dakota down. His fingers brushed hers, electricity sparking at the contact.

"Thank you for this," she said, her gaze holding his. There was a flicker of something neither of them were ready to name.

"Anytime." His voice was low, the sound grazing her senses like the touch of velvet. He reached into his pocket and tossed her the keys to his pickup. "Take my truck. It'll save you time."

Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the gesture. "I can't?—"

"Sure, you can," he interrupted, the ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. "It's no trouble at all."

He watched her walk away, the setting sun casting long shadows that stretched out like fingers, grasping for the last remnants of the day. In the quiet that followed, Landon felt the weight of the night begin to settle, a cloak of possibilities that wrapped around him, heavy with the promise of what could be.

Landon's muscles ached pleasantly as he secured the last bridle on its hook, the scent of leather and horse lingering in the air. The day's labor had left him with a gratifying sense of tiredness that matched the sun’s descent from its zenith. As he stepped out of the stable, his gaze caught Dakota's silhouette against the fading light.

She moved with an ease that belied her earlier nervousness, her tall figure cutting a striking shape as she headed toward the house. Her dark hair fluttered behind her like a banner in the gentle breeze, and when she felt his eyes on her, she turned. Their gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to stretch and warp around them.

Dakota raised her hand, offering a wave that was both casual and charged with an energy Landon felt in his very bones. He lifted his own hand in response, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a half-smile that he couldn't suppress. It was a simple exchange, but it sent ripples through the stillness of the evening, whispers of something more that neither dared to voice just yet.

Not long after Dakota disappeared from view, the sound of boots on the gravel announced Bryce's approach. Landon turned to face his younger brother, whose expression was one of casual curiosity.

"Everything good with the new girl?" Bryce asked, leaning on the fence post and wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

Landon hesitated, his mind replaying Dakota's subtle grace, the electric touch of their fingers. "She's... intriguing," he admitted, the word feeling too shallow for the depth of his interest.

"Seems you're smitten," Bryce teased with a knowing look, but his tone shifted to seriousness as he continued, "Just remember what happened with Colt and Briar."

The reminder hung heavy in the air, a cautionary tale of passion and peril intertwined. Landon felt a twinge of something—was it fear or anticipation?

"I think she might be my fated mate," Landon confessed, the words slipping out with a mix of certainty and wonder.

Bryce rolled his eyes, but there was warmth there, too, brotherly affection that reached beyond skepticism. "Tread carefully, Landon. But if you need me, I'm here."

Landon nodded, grateful for the support even as the weight of destiny seemed to settle on his shoulders. The unruly emotions within him coiled tighter, a quandary of desire and the unknown that pulled at him with the force of a coming storm.