Chapter Text
He didn’t know what he was doing, but neither did she.
After the first time, he wasn’t doing it to forget, even if he’d never say it out loud. No, he did it to remember. To remember the touch of her fingers against his cheek, the feel of her hips under his hands, her body against his.
He didn’t know what love was, but he thought this was probably it.
And sure, he was eighteen, and he’d never get enough of her body, but that wasn’t even the half of it.
His favorite was after, when she stayed with him, bodies tangled under his ragged blanket, her head on his chest. He loved the softness of her body against his, and the clean smell of her hair, the way it tickled his nose when he leaned down and kissed the crown of her head.
And sometimes they talked.
He told her about his father, when Rip was a boy and the gambling and booze meant so much moving that he never got three months at the same school. And about his mother, how she taught him how to read between his father’s benders, sound by sound, her own sixth-grade education be damned.
And Beth listened, and kissed him, and started leaving books behind for him to devour at night by flashlight. First Kayce’s, but eventually hers and Lee’s and Jamie’s, and even though they never spoke of it, she knew the westerns were his favorite.
She told him about her mother, about the fall and the horses, her broken arm and the look on her father’s face when she couldn’t answer his questions. And she sobbed against his chest and swore she’d make it up to her Daddy one day.
Rip wiped her tears away and pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, but he knew her well enough already, knew it wouldn’t matter. It would never matter, unless it came from her father. So he just held her.
But mostly, she told him about being a teenager. Not the kind of teenager Rip had been before, the kind who helped his dad dodge lawmen and his Mama dodge punches. And not the kind of teenager he’d been the last two years, mucking stalls and feeding horses and sleeping in a tack room.
No, she told him about being a real teenager. What she learned at school that day, what her favorite shows were on tv, what happened at Bozeman High. She laughed at his questions, rolled her eyes sometimes, but she made him feel normal, let him pretend that he did things like take algebra and see movies in theaters and have a girlfriend. But only if the girlfriend was her.
He loved when she brought her CD player and they listened to songs, faces inches apart, ears pressed against the headphones together, and when she got into it, she sang along. He didn’t really care about the music, but she did, and he cared about her.
Then everything changed.
She came to him that night, face serious, but he smiled and pulled her into a kiss. She pushed him away, just a little, but she’d never done that before.
“What is it?” he asked, her hands still on his chest, his hands on her hips.
She hesitated, met his eyes for a moment but looked away.
“Beth?” he asked again. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m late.”
“Late for what?”
Then she gave him that look, the one that made him feel like he was the smallest, dumbest boy on the whole planet, and it hit him like a goddamn freight train.
“Fuck,” he said.
The world blurred. He pulled her down to the mattress with him, his back against the wall, her body halfway in his lap, his arms around her. The back of his head thunked against the rough wood of the stall, and after a few seconds, she let her head fall to his shoulder.
He didn’t know how long they sat there, his arms around her.
“Did you take a test yet?” he asked eventually.
“No,” she answered, voice hoarse with tears.
“Hey,” Rip said, reaching down, tipping her head up to face him. “Don’t cry. It’s gonna be ok.”
And he meant it. He felt the same fear in his belly, the fear he knew she felt too, but there was something else in his chest.
“What if it isn’t?” she asked, and her eyes were red and her nose was snotty and she was so fucking beautiful.
“We can make it work,” he replied, and he meant that too.
She started to shake her head.
“We can, if we have to. I’m eighteen, you’ll be seventeen next month. I’ve got almost $1,000 saved, and I’ll make $300 a week by fall. We can-”
She cut him off.
“No, we can’t. I have to go to school.”
“You could go to school. Go to Montana State, we’ll live here, in one of the cabins maybe. It wouldn’t have to be a secret anymore-”
“Stop it, Rip!” she yelled, and it was the first time she’d ever done that either.
He stopped.
“I can’t go to Montana State, don’t you see? My Dad sent Jamie to Harvard to be a lawyer, and he’s sending me to Wharton to learn finance. I can’t just go to Montana State, that wouldn’t work at all, I might as well just drop out and rope horses with Lee,” she said bitterly, and Rip felt that one twist in his chest, because if Lee was some uneducated hick, what the fuck was he?
“I can go with you,” he said.
She laughed. “What the hell would you do in Philadelphia?”
“I’ll find a job. Anywhere with rich people has horses.”
He saw her face soften for just an instant, and he wondered if she was picturing it too, the two of them and a baby with his dark hair and her eyes in some tiny apartment in the big city. But then her face hardened again, and it was over.
“He’d never allow it. He’d kill you if he found out.”
“It’s our life, Beth.”
She shook her head, slowly, sadly.
“No, it’s not,” she said softly, and the words were laced with something that he didn’t understand.
She was still on his lap, and Rip took her face in his hands, made her meet his eyes.
“Marry me. He can’t stop it then. Then it’s our lives to live.”
But she jerked away, pushing herself out of his lap, like his touch suddenly stung her, like she had to get away.
“You can’t say that!”
“Why not?” he asked.
“You don’t understand!” she exclaimed, and he didn’t.
She was on her knees now, braced to flee but still facing him.
“Make me understand,” he begged, reaching out but stopping before he touched her. “Please, Beth.”
But she shook her head, and sighed, and rubbed at her red eyes.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” she said, standing up, and she suddenly looked exhausted. He scrambled to his feet, but kept his distance.
“No, Beth-”
“I don’t even know for sure. This is stupid. I’ll get the test.”
She left him standing there, confused and heartbroken, and he had to wipe his own tears away.
He didn’t see her the next day. He started to worry, to lurk around the lodge looking for a flash of her hair, but she was gone.
Then, that night, she found him.
“Where you been?” he asked, jumping up.
“Went to town.”
He looked closer at her. He wanted to take her in his arms, to kiss her and tell her it would all be ok. To apologize for everything, but he’d meant every word.
“Did you get the test?”
“Yeah, it was negative,” she said, and he waited for the smile, for the relief, but it was wrong. Something was wrong.
He felt a spark in his chest, just for a moment, a touch of hope. Maybe she regretted her words, maybe she felt the same as he did, maybe maybe maybe.
“Why do you look so sad?” he asked, but he knew as the words left his mouth, knew there was no happy ending here.
“We shouldn’t do this anymore,” Beth said, and she ran.