Ryder awoke early the next morning, the sky still tinged with the pink hues of dawn, that fragile hour when the world felt hushed and half-formed. His body stirred with habit—years of ranch life had set his clock long before the sun—and his mind buzzed with the anticipation of the evening’s events. Even before his boots hit the trailer floor, he could feel it: the itch in his muscles, the restless charge of adrenaline already whispering about the bulls that waited.

He moved quietly ...