He didn’t have to answer him, but Easton was done fighting this. Heading for his truck, Easton replied over his shoulder, “I told her I’d love her with every last breath I take.”

“Cool.” Jessie nodded, satisfied. “Can I add that in subtitles?”

Easton climbed in his truck. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

He slammed the door shut, then rolled down his window with the manual crank, saying to Jessie, “Never been so sure of anything in my life.”

• • •

Riding a horse was like riding a bike. Only riding a bike didn’t make every muscle in River’s body hurt after only four hours.

At her family’s ranch, it wasn’t unusual to spend all day in the saddle, it was expected. If River still had a tailbone or skin left on her inner knees by the time she managed to get done with her day’s work, it would be a miracle. They’d named her horse Ticktock, claiming it was only a matter of time before the dun gelding decided to toss her in the dirt, but other than a few sidesteps and one pointed snort of annoyance, Ticktock had behaved himself.

As for River, the only thing close to climbing was riding. Even if she couldn’t sit down tonight, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

A whistle pulled her attention. Her father’s foreman pointed toward the circular drive in front of the barn, bringing all the ranch hands’ eyes to where he was looking. Her father turned his roan mare toward the road, causing Ticktock to sidestep as the foreman trotted up to them.

“That’s one big son of a bitch. Boss, you expecting company?”

In a group of men this tough, it took someone special to make them all sit up straighter. Settling her mount before twisting in the saddle, River saw the person who had caught their attention. She felt her jaw loosen in shock.

“You’re kidding me.”

Preston Lane—her father—raised an eyebrow. “You know him, honey?”

“That’s Easton.”

Her father chuckled. “Well, boys, I guess that’s an Easton.”

“What the hell is an Easton?” the foreman asked.

Her father shook his head. “You’ll have to ask JD. She’s the one he’s here for, not me.”

Leaving them to their teasing, River turned Ticktock and trotted to the fence Easton was leaning on. Heart in her throat as she reined in, River couldn’t help reaching out her hand for his to make sure he was real. Large, callused fingers closed around hers.

“You’re in Wyoming.”

Those kind brown eyes gazed up at her.

“You’re in Wyoming,” Easton said in his quiet rumble. “Didn’t make sense to be anywhere else.”