I didn’t remember Dan being that much of an asshole. The way I saw it, we were doing him a huge favor. No investor in their right mind would want to touch Breakaway Ranch, even with a ten-foot pole.

First thing in the morning, I borrowed the car and drove up to the ranch. Thomas was still sprawled out over the motel bed in a tangle of sheets, and he didn’t seem too perturbed when I fished the car keys out of his jacket pocket.

I wasn’t too sure what I was going to say to Dan. Was I going to confront him? Was I going to try and reason with him?

Whether he liked it or not, Thomas and I were going to have to survey the ranch and the land beyond it for development purposes. Dan was just going to have to suck it up and pull the stick out of his ass.

A few minutes later, I was at his front door, knocking loudly. It was a couple of minutes after ten, and I wasn’t entirely sure if Dan was going to be awake or not.

He swung the door open rapidly, air rushing past me. To my surprise, he was already dressed, his white shirt clinging to his torso. He’d really bulked up since childhood. In his right hand was a mug of steaming hot coffee, freshly made.

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly.

“Well, hello to you, too,” I mumbled. “I was hoping you could show me around today.”

“I already told you no.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and frowned. “I don’t really like taking no for an answer.”

Dan snorted and rolled his eyes before taking a sip from the mug. “I remember.”

“What’s your problem, man?” I finally snapped.

“You. You are my problem.”

“Look, I get that you’re angry that you’re about to lose your ranch, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t take advantage of people in a shit situation,” he growled.

I smirked at him. “Maybe you should pay your fucking bills.”

“Don’t go there, Jacob,” warned Dan, his tone dangerously low.

“Or what, Danny?”

Dan didn’t move an inch. He stood incredibly still as he regarded me from head to toe. His face was expressionless, but there was something fiery in his eyes –- like he was enjoying the challenge.

He finally broke the tense silence with a soft chuckle. “Nobody’s called me that in years.” With a sigh, lowered his coffee mug.“Fine,” he grumbled, “I’ll show you around.”

I let out a breath, relieved that I had finally worn him down. I’d been starting to worry he wasn’t going to cooperate. I would have hated to wait until he finally left Breakaway before Thomas and I could really start with the planning phase.

There was so much to do, and so little time. If I wanted any hope of making a quick buck, I needed to make sure that this transitional phase went as smoothly as possible. There was no telling how many other firms would try to swoop in to take the land if they saw the opportunity.

Dan turned on his heel and went inside, setting his coffee mug down on the kitchen table where we’d all sat the other day. He returned to the door and snatched his jacket from the nearby coat rack. I watched as he slipped his strong, massive arms into each sleeve before he tugged at the collar of his jacket to shield his neck from the chilling autumn breeze.

“Do you want to see the stable first?” he asked me.

I cleared my throat. “No, that’s okay. I can see it fine from here.”

“Are you sure? The stable takes up a lot of square acres.”

“I’m sure,” I stressed. I really didn’t feel like being in close proximity with any horses. “Everybody keeps telling me there’s more land in the back. Why not show me how far it goes?”

Dan grabbed his Stetson and put it on. He nodded at me in agreement, his lip drawn tight and jaw clenched. “Fine. I can saddle up the horses, and we can–-”

“No,” I interrupted. “It’s fine. We can walk.”

“It’s a long ways,” he protested. Dan gave me a confused look, glancing down at my shoes –- they were bespoke, and definitely not built for the terrain. “You don’t exactly look like you’re dressed for a good hike.”

I bit my lip. Me mounting a horse was not a good idea. Even if I could swallow my pride and muster up enough bravery to get back on and ride, I didn’t think my back had enough strength to hold me upright.

I swallowed, trying to rid my throat of the lump that had formed. Dan didn’t need to know what had happened. I didn’t owe him any explanations.

He would probably laugh at me and think I was an idiot. After all, what kind of a man –- born and raised on a farm -– was too scared to ride?

Dan sighed and waved his hand over to the southern gate that led up to his shack of a home. “Why don’t we start here?” he suggested.

“Sounds good,” I blurted, maybe a little too quickly.

Dan closed the door behind him and stepped past me, taking the lead as he strode down the wooden steps that led up to his porch. I followed, allowing a little distance between us, and did my best to match his pace. The dull pulsing sensation in my spine was starting to become noticeable, but I tried to ignore it. The pills that I’d popped before I arrived would kick in at any moment.

As we walked towards the south gate, I studied Dan’s back. He was so much taller now. Once upon a time, I’d been taller than him by a few good inches. We used to make such a big deal out of it, constantly measuring our heights against my childhood bedroom’s doorframe.

I was pretty sure that my mother had painted over the little marker ticks we had left on the white wood the last time she remodeled. When we were younger, we so badly wanted to grow up. And now that we were both adults, I wondered what it would be like to go back to a simpler time.

I took a deep breath. The smell of the ranch was, admittedly, starting to grow on me. It reminded me of home.

“All right,” started Dan. He raised his hand and pointed towards a dirt path. “See that boulder along the road there?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s actually where the ranch starts, but I built the gate here because the foundation was too rocky.”

I made a mental note of this. Rocky foundations were often a pain in the ass to deal with.

“You made the gate yourself?” I asked stupidly.

Dan nodded. “Yep. Laid every stone.”

I looked at the gate. It stretched at least twenty yards in each direction, built up by layer upon layer of rough, jagged stones. The gate itself was made of metal, painted black. It rolled open and closed on a track that had been dug into the ground. It was admittedly quite stunning.

“How’d you afford the ranch in the first place?” I asked. “Did you inherit it from a relative?”

Dan cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “No. Saved up little by little and bought it myself. Everything you see on the ranch I made from scratch.”

I whistled, impressed despite myself. “You must have done your pops proud.”

Dan shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Sure.”

“How’s the old guy, anyway?” I asked, purely out of politeness. “Haven’t heard from him in years.”

“That’s what happens when you move away,” Dan snapped, changing the subject entirely.

I frowned. “Bitter much?”

“How can I not be?” he argued. “You were my best friend, and you just disappeared. No calls, no emails, no letters. Kind of an asshole move, don’t you think?”

I looked away, pressing my tongue against the back of my teeth. “I had my reasons,” I muttered.

Dan coughed, clearing his throat. He pressed his lips into a thin line, unable to bring his eyes to meet mine.

“We should continue,” he said.

“Yes, please.”

We walked together down the length of the southern gate. Dan led the way, walking a few paces ahead of me. I took note of the incline, noticing that the ranch wasn’t built on entirely flat land.

Uneven land was a bitch to develop on.

As we climbed up the hill, the dull pain at the base of my spine sharpened. I let out a shaky breath, prompting Dan to turn and look at me. “You all right there, city boy?” he snorted.

“Fine.”

Dan frowned, brows knitting together in concern. “Hey,” he mumbled, “seriously. You going to make it?”

Instead of answering, I reached into my pocket to pull out the prescription bottle, unscrewed the cap, and tapped two small pills out into my palm. I popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed them dry. Nervously, I glanced at Dan, who watched me with a curious light in his eyes.

“Please,” I said hurriedly, “go on. I’m right behind you.”

“All right,” he replied, but he didn’t sound very convinced.

I took a step forward, but a sharp sensation shot through my back. With a grimace, I clenched my jaw, trying my hardest not to make a big thing out of it. But the next moment I stumbled forward, overcome by the sudden pain.

Dan reached out for me, taking one long stride to close the distance between us. He held me by the arms, just above my elbows, to keep me steady. Our eyes locked, my brown ones meeting his light blue.

I suddenly felt short of breath, amazed by how firm and strong he was. My chest tightened, my throat closed up, and my heart decided to skip a beat or two.

Had Dan always been this handsome? Had he always had these captivating eyes that could burn a hole through you if you stared too long? Exactly when had he grown up to be this effortless masterpiece, in a cowboy hat with matching boots?

I swallowed hard, praying to God that I didn’t look as dumbfounded and awestruck as I felt.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, sorry. Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Let’s head back to the house,” he suggested. “You hungry?”

I straightened my back, regaining my balance. Dan let go of me, and I instantly regretted moving away. The lack of warmth from his big, strong hands against me was excruciatingly noticeable.

A glance at my watch told me it was about a quarter to noon. “Sure,” I managed lamely. “Lunch sounds great.”