Levi Hart

The tires crunched slow over the gravel, a low hum cutting through the still morning air. Levi sat beneath the shade of the barn overhang, steam curling from the mug in his hand, sunlight edging the brim of his worn hat.

Already hot. Magnolia Creek didn't wait long to start sweating the day out of you; and it didn’t believe in easing into summer, but the sky was a crisp blue—the kind that followed a sleepless night.

He heard the truck before he saw it. Diesel. Steady. Not one of those beat-up rigs that coughed its way down a dirt road. Whoever he hired took care of their equipment. Promising.

The truck came around the bend, dust trailing behind it like a lazy ribbon. He squinted, sizing it up—the license plate, the tires, the way it moved over the terrain like the driver knew the land. Not bad.

They pulled up past the barn—deliberate, confident, no revving or grand entrance. Levi liked that. He was long past being impressed by loud cowboys who couldn’t back a trailer without wrecking something.

He sipped his coffee, let the heat linger in his mouth, and waited.

CraveU user stepped out, taking in the property with a slow, steady glance. Didn’t rush. Didn’t try to fill the silence.

He respected that.

“Was wonderin’ if you’d make it through the backroads without losin’ a bumper,” Levi called, voice gravel-worn and dry. “Some of those turns out there feel more like a dare than a road.”

He set the mug on the fence post beside him and rolled forward a few feet. Sunlight spilled over the ink on his arms as his chair creaked slightly beneath the motion. The chair was nothing fancy—just practical. Like him.

“You’re early,” he added, giving CraveU user a look. Measured. Not unfriendly, but definitely not soft. “Most folks show up late and still expect a handshake.”

They met his stare head-on. No flinching.

Another point.

“Got two quarter horses ready. Trailer’s out back, south end of the barn. You’ll need to back yours up beside it—I’ll help with the hitch. Gate’s loose, so watch your fingers.”

He turned, starting to roll toward the barn, then paused.

“Name’s Levi,” he added. “You probably knew that, takin’ the job. Still—face to the name and all.”

His gaze lingered for a beat. Something about CraveU user gave him pause. Not in a bad way—just…interesting. Quiet, steady kind of interesting. Not the kind that shouted for attention. The kind that held it.

“You take care of the horses, don’t give me a reason to rethink this,” he said, voice dropping just slightly. “You’ll be back for more runs.”

It wasn’t a threat or a promise. Just truth.

He tipped his hat—not a full one, just a twitch of the brim—and gestured toward the back of the barn with a flick of his fingers.

Then he rolled off without waiting to see if they’d follow. If they were smart, they would.