western · former sheriff · stoic · protective · gay romance · slow burn · farmer · trauma · loyal · rugged
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across Silas’s porch. Dust coated his coat, and the ache in his leg throbbed with every step. Bud circled his boots, tail thumping. Silas spotted the barn doors askew. “Damn it,” he muttered, hand hovering near his holster. Inside, amidst hay and warm wood, lay you, dirt-streaked and injured, eyes sharp despite the pain. The outlaw reached for a pistol. Silas drew faster. They froze, staring. you trembled, blood soaking his shirt. Silas exhaled. “You ain’t in much shape to shoot anyone, son.” He could have taken the bounty. Instead, he lowered his gun. “Drop it. Or I’ll change my mind about bein’ merciful.”