Chapter 5 – Lacey
The late morning sun warms my shoulders as I cross the paddock, the scent of fresh hay and leather thick in the air. A soft breeze stirs my hair, carrying with it the sounds of cattle lowing in the distance and the occasional bark of one of Mason’s dogs near the barn.
This feels familiar in a way nothing back in the city ever did.
Wyatt had only half-jokingly handed me a list of small tasks this morning, grateful for any extra help while Rachel caught up on some much-needed sleep. Nothing complicated. Just a few repairs, some fence line checks, and moving supplies around for Mason. Work I didn’t mind at all.
The rhythm of it settles something inside me that’s been restless for months.
I’m focused on hauling a bag of feed toward the storage shed when I hear the crunch of tires on gravel behind me.
I turn just as the truck door swings open.
Colton steps out, and my heart jumps before I can stop it.
He’s traded his road-worn clothes from last night for a clean button-up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, jeans that fit him far too well, and his well-worn hat shading his eyes. His boots hit the dirt with easy confidence, the kind that only comes from years of working land like this.
“Morning,” he calls, voice smooth and warm.
“Morning,” I reply, hoping my smile looks casual.
He crosses toward me, the distance closing fast. The sun catches on the faint stubble along his jaw, and I feel a flicker low in my stomach. I’m not prepared for how different he feels today. Last night had been a surprise. This morning, it’s something else entirely.
“Thought you could use a hand,” he says.
“You always show up just in time to avoid the heavy lifting, don’t you?” I tease, shifting the bag of feed slightly for effect.
He grins. “Can’t ruin my reputation, now can I?”
Before I can respond, he steps in and takes the bag from my hands with effortless ease, his fingers briefly brushing against mine. The contact sends a spark up my arm that I pretend not to feel.
“Let me get that for you,” he says softly, his voice closer now.
I watch him carry the bag like it weighs nothing and set it inside the shed. His broad shoulders flex with the motion, and I find myself biting my bottom lip before quickly looking away.
This is dangerous ground.
We fall into an easy rhythm after that, working side by side as we check the fence line along the north pasture. The quiet stretches between us are comfortable at first, filled with the sounds of birdsong and the occasional creak of the fence wire as we test each post.
But as the minutes tick by, the quiet shifts into something heavier. The awareness of him standing close, the scent of his cologne mixed with leather and sun-warmed skin, the way his fingers move deftly along the wire—it all pulls at me in ways I hadn’t expected.
“So,” he says after a while, his voice breaking the stillness, “how long do you think you’ll stay this time?”
I glance over, surprised by the question, though I shouldn’t be. “I’m not sure yet.”
He watches me closely, as if measuring every word. “You know you don’t have to rush back. Shadowbrook’s not exactly going anywhere.”
I smile faintly, trying to keep my voice light. “Neither is the city.”
He nods, but there’s something thoughtful in his expression. “That place never really suited you, Lace.”
I feel my breath hitch slightly. “You don’t think so?”
“I know so.” His tone is steady, like it’s not even a question in his mind. “You always belonged here. With your family. With this kind of life.”
I shift my gaze back to the fence post I’m working on, fingers fumbling for a moment with the wire. My pulse skips. His words settle deep inside me, stirring feelings I’m not ready to name.
“It’s not always that simple,” I say softly.
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” A pause. “But sometimes simple’s exactly what a person needs.”
He steps closer, reaching for the next section of wire. Our hands meet again, fingers brushing. This time, neither of us pulls away immediately. The warmth of his skin against mine lingers, sending a soft hum through my chest.
I glance up at him, meeting his eyes fully now.
There’s no teasing in his expression. No playfulness. Just steady, quiet certainty.
“I’ve waited a long time to have you standing here again,” he says.
The words land with weight, pressing into me with undeniable force.
“Colton—”
“I’m not pushing,” he cuts in gently. “I know you’ve got your own decisions to make. But I need you to know where I stand.”
The honesty in his voice wraps around me. There’s no pressure in his tone, no demands. Just truth.
“I never forgot the promise we made, Lace,” he adds softly. “Not once.”
The old memory surfaces again, vivid as if it happened yesterday. Sitting under the stars, laughing, making a pact we were too young to understand. If we’re still single at thirty…
My throat tightens.
“I never really thought you meant it,” I whisper.
He leans in slightly, voice even lower now. “I meant every word.”
The distance between us feels smaller now, though neither of us has moved. My heart hammers in my chest, the pull between us growing stronger with every second that passes.
I break the stare first, glancing away to steady my breathing, but his presence remains firmly rooted beside me.
We finish the last few posts in a quiet, unspoken rhythm after that. The easy friendship we’ve always shared still lives here, but beneath it, something new grows. Something bigger.
When we finally head back toward the barn, my pulse still hasn’t slowed.
And for the first time since coming home, I’m not entirely sure whether I came back to help Wyatt—or for something else entirely.