prologue

                                    

                                          

*unedited

   REAGAN GRACE grew up with everything money could buy, but none of it could fill the void left by her father's absence of love. She never understood why his heart brimmed with so much anger and bitterness. Worse than his violent temper was the fact that her mother never once stood up—for herself or for Reagan. 
However, her older brother, Tommy, never backed down from Billy Payne.
To anyone on the outside, the Payne family looked clean, respectable even. But those who got too close knew better—William Payne's anger was a storm you didn't want to get swept up in.
Unless you wanted to end up on the other side very badly beaten. 
Tommy had felt it firsthand, more than once. Bruises faded, but the weight of his father's threats never did. He knew exactly what kind of man William Payne was—the kind that smiled in town and bled you dry when no one was watching. People whispered about his temper, but no one dared speak it aloud. 
Tommy had his reasons for standing up to him, reasons buried deeper than pride or stubbornness. There was unfinished business between them, and sooner or later, Tommy knew it would come to a head.
Reagan, just nine years old, watched it all unfold, her small hands balled into fists at her sides. The tension in the house twisted her insides, and the fear of her father's shadow was something even a child like her couldn't escape. But Reagan wasn't helpless. Not yet, not ever. She had the land, the wild open plains of Montana, and her horse—her way out, even if just for a little while.
So one evening, after the shouting and the slamming of doors, she saddled up and rode. The cool wind hit her face, and the vastness of the plains stretched endlessly before her. The sky felt bigger out here, and for a moment, the weight of her family's troubles seemed far away.
That's when she met him. A boy, no older than her, with sunburned skin and a quiet strength in his eyes. 
Kayce Dutton.
 He sat astride his own horse, watching her from a distance. They didn't say much at first—just two kids finding a small piece of freedom in the middle of nowhere. But in that brief meeting, Reagan knew she wasn't alone in understanding the heaviness of the world around them.
As the days turned into weeks, Reagan found herself slipping away to meet Kayce whenever she could. At first, it was just for the peace the plains gave her, the quiet moments where she could forget about home. 
But soon, it was about him—the way he listened without asking too many questions, the way his smile softened the sharp edges of her world. Reagan didn't quite understand what she felt, but she knew there was something different about the way her heart beat when she saw him.
Their friendship deepened, and with it, Reagan found the courage to tell him the things she had never said aloud. One evening, under a darkening sky, she opened up about her father's rage—the bruises, the threats, the fear that never left their house. Her voice trembled as she spoke, but Kayce's steady presence anchored her. He didn't say anything for a long time, his jaw tightening as she laid bare her pain.
When she was done, Kayce looked at her, eyes dark with a fury she had never seen in him before. He clenched his fists, his voice low and hard. "He won't keep doing this to you. I won't let him."
Reagan didn't know what to say. She hadn't told him to make him angry, but part of her was relieved he was. Part of her wanted someone to care enough to fight back, even if it was just in words. Kayce's protectiveness stirred something in her—a feeling that maybe, just maybe, her troubles could disappear with him by her side.