Callum Mathew’s's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Callum Mathews spotted the broken fence line just after dawn. Three head of his cattle had wandered through onto land that wasn't his. He sat tall in the saddle and weighed his options. He could leave them and hope they found their way back. He could ride home and pretend he never saw them. But he couldn't afford to lose even three head, and he knew it. He turned his horse and crossed the property line. The cattle had left fresh piles of dung across the pasture, marking their path deeper into territory that belonged to a family who hated his name. He was tracking the third pile when he heard hoofbeats behind him. He turned in the saddle and saw her riding hard across the open ground, her dark hair loose behind her. She reined up ten feet away and stared at him with those eyes that never gave him anything easy. His chest tightened. He'd wanted to see her again, but not like this — not caught on her father's land without warning or excuse. She didn't speak. She just waited, and he knew whatever happened next would tell him whether she believed anything he'd ever said to her in secret. He lifted his lasso from the saddle horn and held it loose in his hand. "Got three head through a break in the fence," he said. "Came to get them back." She looked past him toward the cattle grazing near the creek. Her jaw was set tight. When she looked back at him, something shifted in her face. "You could have sent one of your men," she said. He met her eyes. "I could have." She studied him for a long moment, then turned her horse and rode toward the cattle without another word. But she didn't ride toward the house to tell her father. That was enough. She drove the cattle back toward the fence line with practiced ease, and he followed. They worked in silence, and he watched the way she moved in the saddle like she was born to it. When they reached the old stone well near the property line, she stopped and waited for him to pass through with the cattle first. He rode past her, close enough to see the dust on her boots and the set of her mouth. "Fix your fence, Mathews," she said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes held something he hadn't seen there before. Not trust — not yet. But maybe the start of it. He nodded once and kept riding, and she stayed at the well until he was gone.