Maisey watched the pick up slow and stop ahead of her Dodge Ram, noting that it was also a Dodge as the driver reversed and got out of the truck. She couldn't see the driver sitting as she was on the tail gate in the twilight and if she was being honest with herself didn't really want to: she wanted to sit alone and watch the stars as they rose over the flat ranch land that stretched out in front of her now that the sun was quickly going down. She hadn't been able to do that in the city.

The city: she'd driven from Vancouver and was moving. She didn't have a destination in mind but had decided to go the scenic route as she traveled and take her time. She'd made many stops: in Kamloops, Franks Slide, even explored the Hoodoos around Drumheller. She wasn't sure where she was right that minute, but she'd found a well driven track outside a rancher's fence line to stop and watch the stars. She knew very little about ranching but figured that in the dark it was not likely anyone would need to go through the locked gate. She also hadn't expected anyone to see her there either. She hoped that whoever it was just wanted to make sure she wasn't trying to cause trouble and would leave her alone after some quick assurances: she was too tired and too sore to keep driving and wanted to sleep in the back seat of the truck for a few hours before she kept going.

Gravel crunched as the newcomer came around the end of her truck: a flashlight aimed at the ground, "You alright?" a man's voice asked.

"Yes," she said, noticing the cowboy boots illuminated by the light, "I hope I'm not in your way blocking the gate."

His tone came back sounding amused, "No ma'am. Whatcha doin' out here?" she'd never thought of Albertans having any kind of accent before, but his voice had a pleasant twang she'd come to recognize in some of the western movies and country music she enjoyed.

"Watching the stars," she responded, not seeing any reason to hide what she was doing, "It's been some time since I've had such an unobstructed view so thought I'd take a break from driving and enjoy the view."

He kept the light low but raised it enough to illuminate her face slightly, "most folks stop in town," he commented, "have some dinner and take a break there."

She lifted a can of C-Plus pop, "this is about all I need right now, thought I'd grab a burger from a fast food place on my way out of town later."

His bark of laughter echoed across the open land as he leaned against the side of her canopy, "You aren't from around here then, sunshine."

"Name's Maisey, but most of my friends just call me Mace," she told him, trying to hide her annoyance at the endearment, "and no, I'm not."

"I'm Brett," he told her, "Brett Franks. It's my uncle's land you're peering over, but there's no fast food in this corner of the woods, and Lucy's Diner closed an hour ago." Brett watched Maisey shrug. "So now what'll you do, sunshine."

"Sit and watch the stars," she responded with a shrug, "eventually move on and find another place to stop that does have a burger place or a convenience store. Stop calling me sunshine." Her tone took on a harder tone than she intended. "I'll move along," she made to push herself off the tail gate.

"Settle down, Maisey," he told her lightly, placing a hand on her arm to stop her, "I didn't mean anything by it and Uncle Ned won't be using this gate until spring." Maisey wasn't prepared for the touch and jerked away feeling a slight shock of electricity shoot through her. Brett raised his hand quickly, recognizing her discomfort, "Go easy, I'm not going to hurt you, just wanted to stop and make sure you weren't in need of help with your truck." Brett used the same tone he would with a frightened calf.

"Sorry," she told him, "been on the road a while so I'm a bit tired and testy."

"Trusting too from the looks of things."

"Not really," she told him, "Just smart enough not to act like a frightened bird while I figure things out." She got another bark of laughter. "Thanks for stopping to check on me, but I'm fine. Really just want to watch the stars." She turned her head back to the land ahead of her. "Its so peaceful I just couldn't waste the opportunity."

She thought he must have smiled, "I get it," he said, turning off the flashlight. "There's not much better than watching the moon, stars and sun rise and do their thing." Brett ran his fingers through his hair, "Would you mind some company?"

"I don't really know you," she told him blandly, not looking at him, "but suit yourself, there's room enough on the tailgate for two, but you call me sunshine again and I'm likely to leave."

Brett continued to lean on the canopy and they fell into silence. Maisey wondered about this random stranger who had stopped to rescue her while also fighting the urge to bolt: what did he look like outside of the shadows of the flashlight and stars, was he as sexy as his voice sounded. She chided herself and stiffened: not even six weeks since she'd left Vancouver and here she was star-gazing with a stranger and wondering how sexy a cowboy she'd just met was: she needed more sleep. As if in response to her thought, Maisey yawned.

Brett wasn't sure what to think: the flashlight hadn't revealed much of the woman sitting on the tailgate and other than their short conversation he knew nothing about her. His uncle hadn't raised him to be a fool and he didn't feel right leaving her alone on the side of the road alone at eleven o'clock at night. She seemed to enjoy the solitude of the silence and he wasn't feel very chatty—despite engaging her in chatter initially—especially after his fight at the pool hall. He would have a black eye in the morning he knew but it couldn't be helped now, Andy had deserved to be called-out but he hadn't anticipated the other man to be sober enough to actually connect his fist. His eye was starting to swell.

It had been a long time, Brett realized, since he'd sat and looked out over his uncle's land at night and enjoyed the view with someone. Maisey didn't know the land the way he did, hadn't seen the trees and the hills, rode the fence or swam in the creek like he had, yet something had drawn her to this spot and here she sat quietly taking in the view. He heard the stifled yawn she'd tried to stop and felt the shiver she couldn't stop and he realized the temperature in the air had dropped.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" he heard himself asking.

"You're leaning on it," she responded. "I'll sleep in a while then be on my way."

"In your truck?"

"As if you've never done it." She retorted.

"True," he said. "When's the last time you slept in a real bed?" he asked. She shrugged but he couldn't see it. "Maisey: I know we just met and all, but my aunt would rise from the dead and skin me if I let you sleep out here when there's a perfectly good and empty guest room I can offer you."

Maisey remained silent but offered him a can by touching its bottom to his arm, he wrapped his fingers around it and waited for her to release it. "Orange," she told him as he opened it and moved to lean against the tailgate. He misjudged where she was and brushed against her leg. Once again, she felt the electricity course through her and tensed, "I appreciate the offer," she told him, "but I've got to find that fast food place, remember?" He chuckled and hissed as pain lanced to his head from the bruising around his eye, he felt her head turn and cock, "You okay there, cowboy?" there was concern and humour in her tone, "didn't bruise your ego, did I?"

"No," he told her honestly, "A buddy's fist ran into my face when I was falling down, nothing major."

"Poor baby." Her tone was hard; she pushed herself off the tailgate.

"I take it you don't condone fighting," he took a deep drink.

"Fists are for punching dough not people." She said flatly, "I should get going."

Brett stood away from the tailgate when she started to push it back up into place, surprised by the venom he could hear in the undertone of her voice, "Hold on sunshine…" he started grabbing her arm.

"DON'T!" she shouted, suddenly furious she refused to turn in his direction and gritted her teeth, "don't you dare call me that again." She hissed, the memories burning in her mind.

"Maisey," his hands were up and he was backing away, not wanting to upset her anymore "I'm sorry: I obviously hit a nerve, I won't call you that again."

She stopped moving, leaning heavily on the tailgate as it clicked into place. She breathed heavily trying to control her breathing: angry tears formed in her tired, haunted eyes and she was grateful that he couldn't see her. "Brett," she forced the words out as calmly as she could, "thank you for sitting with me and for the offer but I've got to go."

"I hope you killed him," Brett said, sudden realization dawning on him. Maisey pinched her eyes shut for a long time, counting to ten frontwards and backwards like her therapist had taught her to. "Do you need somewhere safe to stay?"

Maisey spun on her heel, "safe?!?!" she exploded, "Safe with someone who is in pain because his buddy punched him in the face? How the hell is that safe?" She slammed away and into her truck, wincing in pain as she moved and adjusted herself in the drivers' seat before slamming her fist into the steering wheel and crying out. Hot tears fell: memories she'd tried to forget spilled down her cheeks as she sobbed in anguish. She didn't know how long she'd sat there when she heard the door click open and felt gentle, calloused hands lift her down, and felt herself clinging to a stranger as she sobbed.

Brett was furious, he wanted to kill the bastard who'd put Maisey in the obviously fragile state she was in and he was kicking himself for reminding her of her anguish. He tried to right her and help her stand but Maisey crumbled on the ground sobbing and wincing in pain. It was only then he realized she was injured and his fury doubled. "Maisey," he said softly as another vehicle pulled up behind her truck, "I'm going to take you somewhere safe," he told her, "Uncle Ned will bring your truck." He didn't know if she heard him but he cradled her as she sobbed and lifted her into the center of his truck, climbing in after her.

Maisey couldn't focus. She was in a hazy dream state, sobbing and remembering what she didn't want to remember. Reliving the pain and sobbing at her stupidity. She heard voices, but they were fuzzy and unclear. Amid the pain she slept.