Archive of Our Own

Beth thought she was having the worst dream of her life. She was freezing. Her arms and legs were heavy. Her eyes burned when she tried to open them. The bright lights above her bed, seemed to dim on their own. Her throat burned, and felt dry when she tried to swallow. Her lips felt chapped and sore. Her fingers and toes tingled. She heard an annoying, constant beeping. Her sheets didn’t feel right against her skin. Her clothes didn’t feel like her own. The smells around her were unfamiliar. She tried to move her legs, but didn’t pull them very far before she felt something around her ankle. In her mind, it was the sheets, her pajamas pants. She tried kicking her feet free, but her legs fatigued so quickly, she gave up. Getting more and more frustrated, the more awake and coherent she became. “What the fuck?” She muttered, as she tried to move her sore and itching wrist, but felt the tether stop her. She felt the familiar achy burn of the stitches. The bruised and damaged muscles and nerves. It felt like she was in a fog, as she finally opened her eyes. Trying to force the dizziness away. For a long moment, everything was blurry, but she could tell she wasn’t in her bedroom. She saw a shape sitting in the chair next to her, assuming it was her father, coming to her rescue, yet again. All she could see was the dark shape, the hat, the Yellowstone logo on his jacket. “What happened?” She muttered, tugging on the restraint again. She couldn’t remember what happened yesterday. She didn’t know what day it was or how she ended up cutting herself. She remembered being in Rips cabin. She remembered him taking there after she paraded around naked for the entire ranch to see, fighting with Jamie, arguing with him. He was patient with her, calming. Coaxing her from the animals watering hole, talking to her. It was still the morning when she fell back asleep in his arms. He didn’t leave her all day. Lloyd came and checked on them while her father was in the city, but no one else bothered them. She couldn’t remember after that.

Rip watched her begin to stir again. He’d watched the same routine for the past three days, over and over. Usually she’d barely wake, and begin screaming and crying, pulling on the restraints so hard, the doctor was afraid she’d break open the stitches on her wrists. She cried out for him so many times, it almost broke what little resolve he had left. Lynell tried to get him to go back to the ranch for a while, promising they’d call if she woke up. He refused. He never left the room. They had to force him to eat and shower. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t risk her waking and finding him gone. She wasn’t crying for her dad. She was crying for him. He never heard sounds like that, come from her. He never heard pain, like he did in those three days, she was barely conscious. He wanted to make it stop, but like now, he didn’t know how to help her.

He was silent for a while, as she tried to fully wake. She didn’t scream or cry. She did whimper, when she tried opening her eyes, but the lights above her bed were too bright. He didn’t hesitate to dim them. The nurses showing him how the first night he stayed in the chair by her bed. Her father sleeping on the folding cot by the window. Lynell didn’t stay the first night, but she did stay the second and third; curled up next to John like she was always meant to be there. Jamie and Kaycee stayed in the waiting room for the first two days, until the older brother finally admitted everything that happened. He voluntarily left, but Rip didn’t think they gave him many options. Kaycee was so upset, feeling guilty, he sat by her bed for a few long hours, talking to her. Apologizing. Telling her it wasn’t her fault. She obviously couldn’t hear them, but it was nice watching the youngest Dutton son, show compassion and affection towards their only sister. He was back in the lobby, waiting for their father to decide whether to make her stay longer or sign her release. When she started tugging on the restraints, he expected the painful screams to begin soon after, but they never did. Instead, she mumbled to herself. Her eyes catching his figure sitting next to her, but he couldn’t tell if his presence registered in her mind. He was almost positive, she assumed it was John. It was always her dad that came to sit with her through the painful mental agony. When he thought she was coherent enough, he finally spoke. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what everyone is saying; what the fuck, Beth?” He couldn’t even be angry, he was just thankful she was alive. He watched her jump, obviously not expecting him. And once her eyes adjusted from the drug induced fog and sleep, he saw the devastation wash over her face. But like always, the pain, quickly turned to anger and frustration.

Beth thought she was gonna throw up. As she looked down at her wrist, she saw the familiar light brown strap. It wouldn’t matter how much she tugged and fought, they weren’t going anywhere. She tried not to look at Rips face, but his presence was more noticeable than her father’s. She could feel him staring at her, the questions circling his head. She could almost feel the frustration and tension in his body, as she slowly allowed her eyes to focus on him. She instantly wished she hadn’t. The loving spark she usually saw, was gone. His bright blue eyes, looked like the ocean before a violent storm. He looked exhausted and terrified. And with one look, everything she couldn’t remember, or didn’t want to, came flooding back. It took her breath, as she saw the fight she’d had with Jamie in her mind. Heard the hateful, hurtful things he’d said, all over again. Saw the satisfying smirk on his face. Felt the bruise on her cheek and soreness to her jaw. It was the first time he’d ever hit her. The first time he blamed her for their mother’s death. Not that she didn’t blame herself, every day, but no one had ever said it to her face. She knew they all believed it. She could feel it in the way her father dismissed her every time she wanted to talk about her mom. The way her brothers looked at her. She couldn’t remember a time that she didn’t feel the same pain in her chest, that she felt that day.

As Rips fingers touched hers, her heart started pounding in her chest. Her stomach churned. Her breathing increased, as her mind flashed to what she’d done. And by the look on the man’s face, he saw it all. It wasn’t a bunch of strangers, or her father; it was the man she loved that found her. “Go away,” she whimpered, as she remembered going to her room and getting the bottle of Xanax and restoril. She didn’t know how many pills she took. She didn’t know why she brought the bottles with her. Probably out of habit from her father finding her unconscious more times than either of them care to remember. She stumbled into the barn, immediately taking refuge in the tack room. Sitting on Rips old bed, as she began to feel light headed. Her breath felt heavy, as she dug the knife out of her pocket. Only thinking about the pain in her chest, her head. The images of her mother’s death, playing over and over again, just to torture her. The sound of her bones crushing under the weight of her horse, was all she heard, as she slid the blade over her left wrist. The sting was immediate, but it was nothing compared to the agony and despair ripping apart her chest. She watched the blood slowly drip to the floor, soaking into fabric of her dress. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t start to panic or try to cover her wrist. She was calm, as she slowly, slit the right. No practice cuts, she had enough practice. No hesitation. She was done with feeling the guilt. She was done feeling that everyone blamed her but wouldn’t say it. She was tired of lying. She was tired of hiding. She wanted to sleep. And that’s what she did. She curled up in the same space she once shared with the man she loved, feeling warm and safe for the first time since coming back home. That was the last thing she remembered.

Rip almost laughed that she honestly thought he would leave her alone ever again. He knew she wasn’t aware what happened. That he witnessed her flatline and slowly coming back to life. But she knew HIM. There wasn’t one time, she was sick, hurt, just didn’t feel like getting out of bed; if he knew, he was right there with her. Taking care of her. Stroking her back. Holding a heating pad over her lower belly. Holding an ice pack on her forehead or standing in the scolding shower to relieve a migraine. She cried for hours into his chest, with every harsh word Jamie said. She clung to him when her heart was breaking from whatever secrets she refused to tell. He never left her to suffer alone, and she never asked him to leave. She usually begged him to stay. “Not if you begged me,” he said, causing her eyes to fall back to his. He wasn’t her father. She couldn’t manipulate him to bailing her out. She couldn’t convince him she was fine. Or play on his love for her. John felt guilty for not spending as much time with her as he should have. He hated that his daughter was injured trying to save her mother and little brother. He wanted to help her and believed, giving her what she wanted was helping. Rip knew it wasn’t. She had to start talking, or this hospital stay would be a lot longer than the last. “Not gonna ask why you’re tied to a fucking bed?” He said a little harsher than he intended, but the uncaring look on her face, sparked a frustration, that vibrated under his skin. He knew she cared. She cared so much, it was killing her. She was protecting herself. She knew exactly what was going on. She knew exactly what she’d done and how she ended up in the hospital room she was now trapped in. He could see the pain growing in her eyes, the longer he held her gaze. He saw the tears building. She chewed her bottom lip, still trying to feel anything but the panic building in her chest. He could see her breathing increase. He could hear it on the monitor. He knew if he watched, her blood pressure would be slowly rising. If he could touch her, he knew she’d have sweat on her neck and back, her palms. “Why there’s a nurse sitting watch in the hell?” He continued when she still refused to speak, or couldn’t. She wasn’t prepared to see him, he could see it in her body.

Beth wasn’t expecting a fight. Her father never tried so hard. He asked a few dozen times what happened. He never yelled at her. He never blamed her. She never had to tell him much of anything going on in her mind. She wouldn’t talk to the therapist. She refused to cooperate with the doctors when they asked about her medications. Her father would sign her out. Not talking all the way back to the ranch. Seven hours of either silence or sleeping. She spent days in her room, recovering alone. Her dad never mentioning it, until the next time. She never told Rip or her brothers about the darkness she couldn’t continue running from. She didn’t want them to know. She didn’t want to hurt them. It wasn’t their fault she was fucked up. They didn’t deserve to carry her trauma and pain. Instead of being vulnerable like she wanted, her walls began to fortify around herself. “Nope…” she whispered, trying to pull her legs closer to her body, but only made it so far, before she felt the tether stop her. She couldn’t help the whimper that passed her lips. The skin felt sore and raw. She knew at some point, she’d barely woken up, fighting. She hoped he didn’t see it, but knew he had by the sympathetic look in his eyes. She wanted to ask for him to remove the restraints, but was afraid to hear his refusal. She was already seconds away from breaking down into tears, she didn’t need to be pushed over the edge by his words.

Rip didn’t know what the skin of her ankles looked like, but by how violent she fought and pulled on her restraints, he was surprised she hadn’t permanently damaged anything. Every time she jerked and kicked and legs, the sound of her cries when the tether would catch, made it sound like she was cutting her leg off. The way she twisted her back to get loose, he knew she would be complaining in a few days. And there would be no more unnecessary pain pills. No more opiates that she could overdose from. Someone would be keeping an eye on her, and it would probably be him. He would gladly take the responsibility. He would love and enjoy the time alone with her. “Do you fucking care I found you with no heart beat?” He said a little harsher, but kept his voice low. The doctors said her ears would likely be overly sensitive. To not scream and fight with her, even when she started it. He was the perfect person for the job. He never raised his voice to her. What right did anyone have to treat her like a child? She needed understanding. She needed compassion. She needed the person she always ran to when the world got too much for her to bear.

He watched her flinch, and immediately ran his fingers soothing up her hand. She didn’t violently pull away, but she did look at him with confusion and fear in her eyes. She was gearing up for a fight, but was terrified of pushing him too far. She wanted him to stay, and needed him to leave at the same time, so she could cry. He felt awful for being as stern as he was, but all he could see every time he tried to fall asleep, was her, technically, dead body. “I’m sorry, baby,” he couldn’t help apologize, as her chin trembled. He reached down to the end of the bed and carefully lifted the thin sheet. Watching her exhausted face process his silent question, taking a few seconds longer than normal, but finally, she nodded. A promise she wouldn’t fight or kick. She would behave.

Beth tried to swallow her anger. She tried to ignore the frustration building under her skin. She wanted to go home. She wanted to pretend nothing happened. She wanted to ignore the questions and doctor’s visits. But by the look in Rips eyes, the devastation and heartbreak, they weren’t gonna let her this time. He was right when he said she couldn’t out wrestle him; she could, but didn’t want to. He never said a cross word in her direction. He never called her all the names her brother did. He did judge her behavior like everyone else did. He really listened when she spoke. He saw her for who she really was. He didn’t just give in like her father. He didn’t coddle like her little brother. He didn’t bow down to her every wish like Jamie. He had all the time in the world to wait. He would force her to tell the truth, even if it broke them. And she wasn’t ready to break her bond with him yet. She wasn’t ready for him to hate her too. She’d rather continue pushing him away, leave him with a thousand questions, than break his heart with the truth. “You think it’s the first time?” She asked a little more aggravated. Forcing herself to take all the hate and anger she had for Jamie, for her mother, out on him. She couldn’t be hurtful to him if she didn’t think about anything else but the man in front of her. Sitting back by her bedside. The loving look on his face making her chest ache. “All those emergency trips my father made to Salt Lake City; wasn’t just to check on me,” she said with a little more venom behind her words. Her father had sat by her hospital bedside, from either an overdose or slitting her wrists. She couldn’t remember how many times she took enough pills to make the pain stop. She did know how many times she cut her wrists. The scars reminded her every day. sometimes she’d catch her father staring at them at the dining room table. But this wasn’t the aftermath. Rip didn’t get a phone call from the hospital. He didn’t hear it from her father. He witnessed the entire thing. He saw everything, and for the first time, her father did too. She never let any of her family members be the one to find her, barely conscious, or already slipping away. It was always a boss, an assistant, a doorman. She didn’t want her father or brothers to find her dead body. She hadn’t wanted to leave them with that image in their heads. Except that night. She fully intended for Jamie to be the one to find her. She knew he’d come wandering back to apologize for the shitty comments. She never expected Rip to come looking. She never intended for the love of her life to find her that way. By the look on his face, he’d never forget it. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” she ground her back teeth, as a stray tear slid down her bruised cheek. She wanted to vomit, at the thought of him walking in to her not breathing.

Rip believed her. He believed she would never want him to see her like that, but it was difficult considering where she chose to take refuge. His old bedroom. It was their safe place. It might have been the place he was forced to sleep for five long years, but it was the safest he’d ever felt. No one shouting or throwing things around the house. No one busting down his door for a beating. It was the room he fell in love in. The room he learned how to love in, with the girl that was still fighting for her sanity. She spent more nights by his side in that room, than in her own. It meant something to them. Turning on the light, meant something, that’s what confused him. It made him doubt, she didn’t subconsciously want him to be the one. But the look in her eyes, the tears; it wasn’t meant for him. “I wasn’t supposed to find you?” He asked, a little quieter, but his tone hadn’t softened. Even when he saw the tears, he kept pushing. If he didn’t, they’d be right here again. She’d continue to suffer in silence. Terrified to tell, what everyone now knew. He wouldn’t let it happen again. If John couldn’t get through to her, he’d sit there until she decided to talk. He didn’t care how long it took. He wouldn’t lose her, not that way. “Who else would go wandering into the tack room at midnight, but me?” He asked, a little more aggravated when she refused to look at him. Who else would wonder why the lights were on? Why the barn door was left cracked? It was his job to make sure everyone was okay, that all the doors were shut and locked for the night. When he saw the light on in the tack room, he knew exactly who it was. “What happened?” He asked, softer than he felt. But she looked so broken, so lost. It terrified him. Why hadn’t she come to him? She passed right by his cabin, to die alone, in the place they used to feel the happiest. As he stared at her soft face, he realized, that’s why she went there. She went to the only place she felt safe and happy with him. The place where her memories hadn’t been tainted by her family.

Beth wasn’t ready to talk about what happened, she never was. She knew whatever she said, would cause someone else more pain. Whether she talked about her mother or not, she’d still have to remember the hurt she caused. It wouldn’t erase the damage. It wouldn’t repair the trauma. She couldn’t take back what she said. If their relationship hadn’t been rocky before that day, it was ruined after. The few good memories she had, were tainted by the last thing her mother ever said to her. She couldn’t remember the few times they were alone together, without seeing the look of anger and frustration in her eyes. That was all she had left.

She couldn’t talk about what Jaimie did, without destroying Rip. The little trust he still had in her would shatter. He’d never be able to forgive her. She couldn’t even forgive herself. The scar on her belly, a constant reminder of what they lost. What she unknowingly took from them. She regretted it. She wished she’d told him decades ago. she wished she’d made a different decision that day. Maybe she wouldn’t have ended up so damaged. Maybe they could have had that time together if she had. “Obviously, I didn’t do it right,” she said a little frustrated, only partially meaning her words. Sitting alone with him, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to miss the life they could still have. She didn’t want to leave him alone. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t him to have his blood on her hands. Trying to stop the bleeding from her wrists. Breathing air into her mouth to keep her alive. She didn’t want that experience for him. She regretted not staying in the house and doing it, but also didn’t. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted the images in her head to stop replaying the worst days of her life. She was exhausted from the nightmares. Tired of the judgement. “You don’t wanna hear about my problems, Rip,” she tried pushing him away. Sometimes he left her alone, other times he pushed. She didn’t know which she wanted this time. She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want him to walk away and never come back. But she couldn’t make herself say what happened. She didn’t want to repeat what Jamie said. She already felt it in her soul. She didn’t need to say it out loud. She couldn’t articulate how she felt in those moments, she never could. Even if she was able to find the words, they would only make him feel worse. “If it was midnight, why were you even awake?” She couldn’t help sounding annoyed. Rip was a creature of habit, unless she was around. He went to bed at nine, unless she was ‘sleeping’ next to him. He got up at three every morning with no alarm clock. He was in the shower by three fifteen, putting coffee on at three thirty, and finishing his breakfast just before four. She watched him for two decades, do the exact same thing every night and every morning. She was the only person that could make him deviate. Obviously, he came looking for her. Something had to have woken him.

Rip could only assume, she didn’t remember turning on the overhead light. She didn’t remember the promise he made so many years ago. If he had to guess, she took the pills, long before she left her bedroom. There was no telling how much alcohol had been in her system before she took everything in her medicine bag. If she had waited, if she had been sober and really wanted to hide, she wouldn’t have turned the light on. She wouldn’t have left the barn door open. She would have covered her trail of bread crumbs, if it really wasn’t supposed to be him. “Don’t turn on the overhead light, if you don’t intend for me to see it from the cabin,” he replied a little softer. He could tell the moment he said it, she remembered. He saw the spark in her eyes, her breath catch in her chest; even if she tried to cover it. When he moved into the cabin, ten years ago, she became hesitant to seek him out. Not wanting to invade the space it took so long for him to earn. It didn’t take long to notice, she had to be invited. She wouldn’t show up on his door step, without him asking. She wouldn’t show still wander down to the barn late at night, calling him to come lay with her. Even by her message, she didn’t like asking. Instead, he told her to just turn the tack room light on when she needed him. He hadn’t missed a single night, no matter the time, that she wandered down to the barn alone, and flipped on the light. It faced his bedroom window, and was brighter than they thought from the inside. It woke him from his light sleep, every single time. “I’m not trying to upset you, but you have no idea what it felt like to walk in that room, expecting you to be fine, and finding out you were far from it,” he tried to hold the emotion in his chest, but couldn’t stop his voice from cracking. Causing a few more tears to slide down her cheek. He could see how much she cared for him, even if she wouldn’t say the words. She loved him, she always had, that’s why he never gave up. That’s why he was still sitting by her bedside, when he had every reason to walk away.

Beth had to cover her face for a moment, but she didn’t sob. A few more tears fell, but she didn’t cry, even though she wanted to. She wanted to scream, as small pieces of her heart were chipped away. She felt the hair stand up on her neck, as she heard the pain and raw emotion in his voice. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him upset or cry, but it was rare. “Where’s my dad?” She asked, wanting him to stay, but needing him to leave. She was hurting him. She HAD hurt him. And the only thing that could come out of any conversation they had, would only cause more pain. She needed her father, to bail her out. She needed the person that wouldn’t push and would allow her to just be. He was too afraid of her trying again to push too hard. He was afraid the doctors would take the choice away from them both, if she admitted an actual problem. She would be fine for a while. She could never tell for how long. It was usually something being said or done to her, that pushed her over the edge again. It wouldn’t be a gradual descent into darkness; she would plummet. The medication and talk therapy never helped. The hospitalizations were only a temporary solution. They got her stable, made her promise not to do it again, and released her into her father’s care. Even Jamie never asked or made her stay. She had a feeling, Rip would. He would be right there with her, but he would make her stay until they knew what was wrong. Until she admitted what happened hours before she slit her wrists.

Rip knew why she wanted her father so badly. John told him of the half a dozen times, he got a call from the hospital in Salt Lake City. She either overdosed or cut her wrists. She would cry and beg him to take her home. That she would take the pills, they all knew wouldn’t work. She promised to find a therapist, she did for a while, but stopped going after a few months of painful silence. She promised it would never happen again, when they all knew it was empty. They were lucky John had Narcan in his bedroom. The doctors said she wasn’t close to bleeding out. The cold had slowed the bleeding. It was the drugs that stopped her heart. After actually seeing his daughter, blood dripping down both wrists, lips blue, skin so pale she looked like a porcelain doll; he wasn’t checking her out this time. He saw the look in the man’s eyes. He was at a loss at what to do, and terrified there was really no way for him to help her. He felt helpless and useless, like Rip did. Except, he wouldn’t stop. John was afraid she’d leave and never come back; Rip didn’t care if she left, as long as she was breathing and happy. “Down talking to the doctors, you want me to get him? He’s got plenty of questions,” he couldn’t help being a little snappy. Even though he could see the next explosion bubbling on the surface, he continued pushing. He knew how much she could take before backing off. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to make her irritated and uncomfortable. He wanted her pissed off. He wanted her focused on an emotion she wasn’t ashamed to express. She admitted more, angry, screaming, than she ever did when sitting in the quiet. She didn’t like being vulnerable. It was his way of still giving her the feeling of control. He didn’t care if she called him every name she could come up with. He didn’t care if she told him to fuck off or leave. He didn’t care if she hated him in the end. If he could make her pain stop, he’d deal with the consequences later.

She didn’t want to answer her father’s questions either. They would be the same as the time before, and the time before that. She was tired of hurting her dad. She was tired of seeing the same defeated look on his face. The need to fix whatever was hurting her. To protect her from all the bad things in the world. But there was no way for him to fix the mess inside her head. He couldn’t protect her from herself. “Why are you here, Rip?” She asked, her aggravation and headache growing with every sharp comment he made. She understood he was angry. But she wasn’t used to him talking to her like that. It hurt more than she let show. She knew exactly why he was still sitting by her side, twenty years later. He would die for her. He would love her for as long as she would let him.

Rip would never understand why she continued to push him away. Why she continued to run and hide from him. He thought he’d always made himself emotionally open enough for her to feel safe with him. He thought he made it clear, how much he loved her. How far he’d go for her. He took a few long seconds to take a breath, calm his own anger. It wasn’t doing anything but pushing her further away. He could break down her walls without making her feel worse. He could love her enough, to make her WANT to tell him anything. “You know why,” he said a little softer, touching her hand, only to have her jerk away. Her heart rate increasing on the monitor. Her breathing increasing, as she gripped the white sheets so tight, her knuckles turned pale pink. He couldn’t help feel a little ache in his chest from her reaction. She never pulled away. She never wanted him to not touch her. She was emotionally pushing him away, distancing herself. She knew, if she allowed him to touch her, hold her, physically comfort her, she wouldn’t be able to put up a fight. She never could.

Beth knew what he was doing. Twenty years of playing cat and mouse, she knew every emotion, every tactic he had up his sleeve. She experienced every part of him. She wanted to let him in. She wanted to let him comfort her, make her feel safe again. But she couldn’t hurt him, just to temporarily make herself feel better. “What the fuck happened?” She asked a little louder, feeling the pain and guilt grow in her chest as she jerked away from his touch. She craved the electrical feel that always ran under her skin at just the thought of his hands on her. She needed the comforting goosebumps that always covered her skin. The protectiveness she always felt with his strong arms around her. But if she let it happen, she’d break. “Where are we?” For all she knew, they flew her to the moon. She couldn’t remember a lot after her fight with Jamie, and couldn’t even remember all of that. She remembered Rip walking her to the main house, kissing her goodnight. She wanted to beg him to come inside, but knew he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t disrespect her father that way. She should have taken him up on the offer to stay with him. He asked, repeatedly. But she was supposed to leave early for a meeting at her main office. She had to drive all the way to Salt Lake the next morning. She knew sleeping next to him, she wouldn’t be able to get up and leave. She never could.

Rip didn’t want to remember what happened, but unfortunately, it was something he wouldn’t be able to forget. He remembered feeling almost happy he saw the tack room light come on. He actually laughed to himself, as he grabbed his jacket and flash light, before wandering down to the barn. He remembered having a feeling she would end up coming back to the cabin, or calling him to come to her at some point during the night. She was clingy when he left her on her father’s porch. He should have convinced her to stay that night. He should have reminded her, she could do the meeting from her office in Bozeman. She didn’t NEED to drive the seven hours. instead, he ignored his gut, and watched her go inside alone. He couldn’t begin to imagine the turmoil going on inside her head. He had no idea how much pain and trauma she was carrying inside her body at all times; until he walked into that room. “I found you in the tack room,” he said, as he tried not to remember his entire world shattering, as he opened the door, and she was curled up under his old blanket, clearly not okay. For half a second, he thought he was having the worst nightmare of his life. He called her name, she didn’t respond. When he pulled the blanket off her body, it was like seeing his mother all over again. The dead air in the room, the emptiness, loneliness that surrounded him was all the same. “You were already cold, Beth,” he almost growled, when she looked everywhere else but him. The tears falling silently down her flushed cheeks. The shame and fear settling under her skin. The uncomfortableness he caused from his intense stare, was evident as she began to shift to the other side of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, finally making her eyes wander back to his.

He would never forget the feeling of her freezing cold skin, as he moved her to the ground. Tearing the thin blanket, and wrapping both her bloody wrists. Everything moved so slow, and fast at the same time. He screamed for Lloyd, while calling Kaycee. He could only remember screaming for an air lift, Beth wasn’t breathing. He didn’t even know exactly what he said. He did CPR alone for what felt like an eternity, until John and the younger Dutton brother rushed through the door. The room was small. He still didn’t know how they all worked on her. By the time the helicopter arrived, they got her breathing again, but she never woke up. He prayed and begged the entire way to the hospital. He screamed in the shower, the only time they could force him to take one. He blamed himself for not noticing how much she was silently suffering. It seemed that everyone else did as well. “We did CPR until Kaycee got you air flighted here,” he said a little calmer. John rode with her in the first helicopter, he and Kaycee caught the second, arriving at the hospital just a few minutes behind them. There was no way either of them could have driven the seven hours. Neither of them could find the words to speak. He could barely answer questions by the time they got to the hospital. No one knew if she would wake up for the first twenty four hours. She had brain activity, her heart didn’t seem to be damaged, but the doctor wouldn’t know her cognitive ability until she woke up. The nerves and muscles in her wrists had been damaged, but were repaired while she was unconscious. She would need physical therapy after she was released. He now knew more about her medical history and needs, than he did his own. He knew every medication she’d ever been prescribed, every doctor’s name, every form of therapy she attempted. He knew down to when she had her tonsils removed at six. “They don’t know how long your heart stopped,” he said with a shake in her voice. He couldn’t hold it if he tried. The thought of her lying dead, for no telling how long, in a place they once felt safe, took what was left of his soul. He wanted to vomit at the thought. He wanted to scream and tear apart the world that wouldn’t stop hurting her.

Beth didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen Rip sound and look so broken and hurting over something she’d done. Over the thought of losing her. He never cried or sounded any different when she walked away. He was usually silent, accepting. She couldn’t handle the shift that she felt happening between them. She couldn’t deal with the vulnerability he was willingly offering. The walls that were slowly crumbling around her. She was too tired to hold them up anymore. “When can I go home?” Was all she could ask. She knew they couldn’t keep her long, but she wanted to leave now. She wanted to be back in her room and bed now. She was already tired of the prodding and questions, and she’d only spoken to Rip.

All he wanted to do was take her home. He wanted to hold and cuddle her. He wanted to kiss the tears and agony away. He wanted her to scream and cry into his chest like she used to. But he couldn’t let her do it again. He wouldn’t let her die. “When you tell us what happened,” he was short, but what else was he supposed to say. He wasn’t gonna let her leave, until they knew why she wanted to die so badly. Why she was willing to give up. Why she was willing to leave him alone, when they promised each other that would never happen. It was a fifteen year old promise, but she remembered, he could see it in her face. “I’ve sat with your father for three days, I know about the hospital stays. I know it’s not the first time your heart stopped,” he said, not hiding the fear in his voice anymore. She needed to hear how terrified they were, when the doctor said they didn’t know if she’d have any cognitive damage before waking up. She needed to see how afraid he was, after her father told him story after story of her attempts at taking her life. The blood transfusions. The forced seventy two hour holds that her father couldn’t get her out of. The weeks it took her to physically recover. The nights she would wake up screaming so often, John slept on the small couch in her bedroom for a while. If it wasn’t him, it was Lynell trying to lull her back to sleep. Sitting with her when her father HAD to leave. Calming the panic attacks and anxiety no one else could. Laying with her until she finally fell asleep. Talking to her like her mother should have. The only two people that knew of her struggles, and the only two she ever trusted enough to be that vulnerable with. But not enough, to tell them why. “It will be the first time your dad doesn’t check you out without answers,” he said, the same sternness returning to his normally soothing voice. He didn’t like treating her that way. He didn’t like being demanding and forceful with her. But he loved her too much to watch her suffer anymore.

Beth didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Her father never left her in more than the necessary hold. And most of the time, they didn’t even make her stay that long. Her father took responsibility and signed her out. It was a downward spiral for a few weeks after, but he still never made her stay. It was unbelievable, that she would be suffering for weeks in her room, usually with her father or Lynell staying with her, and he never knew she was there. He never heard her cries and screams from the panic attacks that woke her up at night. He never knew she had to have someone sleep in her room with her at night, or they’d be running down the hall anyway. She didn’t know how, she was right there, and he had no idea. If he had, she knew he’d be busting down her door to be with her. “Leave me alone, Rip,” she muttered, trying to look anywhere, but him. Somehow, she thought if she ignored him long enough, he’d go away. He’d give up.

Rip knew the game she was trying to play. She was being stubborn. She was trying to ignore him. He would normally get fed up and walk away, it was better than saying something he didn’t mean. Or letting her say something she would beat herself up for later. He didn’t yell or scream at her. This time, he was willing to do whatever it took to get her better. If he had to be mean and hurtful to make her talk, he’d take the consequences. If she wanted him gone after, he’d gladly leave. “It’s gonna be a long stay then,” he said a little lighter, almost teasing her. Trying to get a reaction. Trying to get her to keep talking. He didn’t care about what at this point; he just didn’t want her shutting down.

Beth still didn’t believe her dad would make her stay that long, and he definitely wouldn’t leave her there alone. She didn’t believe Rip would either. Even though his tone was stern, taunting, his eyes showed how much he cared. How much he hated talking to her like that. How much he would love her no matter what. “Get my dad,” she muttered, accidentally feeling her arm too hard trying to get the hair from her face. She had to fight not to pull away again when Rip reached for her. Pausing long enough for her to nod, as she let him push her hair behind her ear. She had to take a deep breath and force herself not to lean into his touch. It was more difficult than she thought it would be. She felt the warm, calm electricity flowing between them, when he touched her skin. She was so close to begging him to lay with her, instead of allowing herself to break and let him try to fix it, she became more tense. More guarded, even though her walls were almost paper thin.

Rip was surprised when she didn’t immediately pull away from his touch. He felt her tense, but not move. He watched her breathing increase, only enough for him to notice, because he knew her. He knew everything about her, down to the sweet faces and sounds she made when she slept. He knew even though she looked calm, she was on the edge of exploding. He could see the turmoil and anger ignite in her eyes. “He’s busy,” he replied, knowing the older man was right on the other side of the door, Lynell right along side him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kaycee was still in the waiting room. Everyone was waiting for the information, they thought only he could get. He didn’t have that much confidence in himself. He caved to her just like everyone else. He gave her exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it. If she started to cry, he couldn’t guarantee he could keep pushing her. “You get to deal with me,” he said, as he tried running his fingers down her cheek.

Beth couldn’t help slapping his hand away in a fresh bout of frustration. She immediately felt awful. The deep sigh and sting in his eyes, caused her stomach to twist in knots. She pushed him away all the time. Usually she didn’t let herself care, but she couldn’t run away now. She couldn’t slam the door and leave. She was trapped in a confrontation she never asked for, nor did she think he could handle. He had no idea, that keep her secrets were better for him. He wasn’t liable that way. He didn’t have to feel guilt or the agonizing pain that ripped through her chest. She needed to push him away. She needed him to want to leave. “Get out,” she hissed, still holding on to the anger Jamie caused to explode in her chest. She assumed, he’d do whatever she said without question. Usually he’d leave her be for a while or a few days, give her time to calm down.

If Rip wasn’t so worried and terrified, he would have been proud of breaking her shell so quickly. She could scream and yell all she wanted, but her face begged him to stay. She looked conflicted, confused, scared. All the things he never saw when he looked at her. He had to know why. “If you’ll tell the doctor what happened, I’ll leave you alone,” he said, giving her a chance to kick him out if she’d talked to the psychiatrist. He knew that wouldn’t happen, from the stories her father told. She would rather sit in silence for the three days, than say a word. As long as she wasn’t a danger to herself, and her father took responsibility, they never kept her.

If she wouldn’t tell the people she loved the most what happened to her, who hurt her; why would she tell a stranger? If she was gonna say the words out loud at all, it would be to the man sitting with her. But she loved him too much to tell him what else he lost with her. What he’d never have with her again. That she destroyed it with one devastating decision. “I’ll stay the three days and get released. Not my first rodeo, remember,” she said with the same dismissive attitude she had before they went to watch the wolves. She felt the tears starting to burn behind her eyes again. The panic beginning to build at both the thought of him leaving and staying. She had to chew the inside of her cheek to stop herself from begging him to stay. But that would mean being honest, and she couldn’t do that yet. “Can’t keep me unless I’m still a danger to myself,” she almost taunted, as the corner of his mouth twitched at the challenge. That was one of the thousands of reasons she loved him, he never took her attitude personally. He knew she didn’t mean it.

Rip hated pushing her into the bratty, teenage behavior she gladly displayed at the dinner table. He hated forcing her to put up her walls, so he can shatter them. He knew, she would burst into tears at some point. He knew she would break and cry for hours. He knew he was so close to getting the information they needed; he could see it on her face. He could feel the tension and panic circling in the air. He was only hoping, she reached for him when it happened. “Unless your father and little brother are willing to admit you against your will,” he said with a seriousness, he never used on her. Bringing her full attention immediately back to him. He could hear her heart rate increasing in the monitor. He could see her clenching the white sheets. Her feet moving under the blanket, wanting to get up and pace, but the straps kept her in place. He wanted to let her up. It was killing him, seeing how uncomfortable she felt. But if he did, he couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t lock herself in the bathroom and try again. “We’ve been talking. This can’t happen again,” he said, feeling the pain rip through his body. For the rest of his life, he had to remember what her father’s face looked like when he talked about the first time he got a phone call. The first time he saw her in pale and unconscious. The cuts to her wrists. How the doctor recommended keeping Narcan in the home, if he was gonna keep checking her out against medical advice. He her father had to leave the room, when he said he couldn’t help her. “I won’t let it happen again,” he said with a determination, that was more of a promise. He wouldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t let her just give up, when he knew how strong she was.

Beth felt the volcano erupt inside her chest. Her blood boiling. Her skin felt like it was on fire, as the machine next to her bed started beeping faster and faster. Her palms and neck were covered in sweat. Before she could reign in her rage, she was screaming. “Get out!” She jerked on the straps holding her in place. Jamie’s smug smirk flashed in her head. His words echoed in her ears. All the times he looked at her a certain way, blaming her in silence when their mother was mentioned. All she could feel as she struggled to get her wrists free, was agony turned to pure rage. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t focus on Rip being in the room. She didn’t care anymore. “You have no idea the twisted shit he put me through,” she screamed, not cognitively aware of who she was screaming at. It could have been her father, Kaycee, Lynell; it didn’t matter. Someone was forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do; just like before. Who was ANYONE to tell her what to do? Why did they care so much NOW, when it didn’t seem to matter before? No one bothered to notice how much she was hurting, until she MADE them notice. Why couldn’t they understand without making her plummet back in the darkness? She didn’t want to remember what Jamie had done to hers she didn’t want to remember the lie on his face. The feeling of waking up without a piece of herself. Losing what she created with the only person that ever understood her pain and anger. “How fucked up she made me,” she nearly growled, refusing to think of all the harsh words her mother threw her way, when she acknowledged her at all. She wasn’t the daughter she wanted. She wasn’t the tough cowgirl. She wasn’t her mother’s daughter. She was soft and sweet. She was kind to everything and scared of the world. And her mother did everything she could to remind her how weak she really was. Compared to her brothers, she was a burden to the woman that birthed her.

It killed Rip watching her struggle against the restraints, scream like he’d never heard before, look at him like she was seeing through him. She wasn’t yelling at him. She wasn’t angry with him. “Who?” He asked, as she took a breath. The heart monitor beeping faster and faster, the more upset she became. Her blood pressure increasing, but not enough for the doctor to make him stop. Not when he was finally getting the answers they needed to help her. “Who, Beth?” He asked again, when she didn’t answer. The frustrated tears sliding down her flushed cheeks. She wasn’t chewing her bottom lip, hard enough to hurt herself. He thought about reaching for her, but could tell his touch wasn’t wanted yet.

Beth’s thoughts began to turn into a tornado. The filing cabinet she kept locked in the back of her mind, suddenly cracked open; scattering her secrets into the violent mix. She couldn’t focus enough to grab them and put them back. She couldn’t filter what to say. She couldn’t feel Rips warm presence in the room. She couldn’t remember the secrets she needed to keep and the ones that couldn’t hurt anyone to share. “Leave me alone!” She screamed with all the hatred she had for her older brother. All the pain he caused. The loss she suffered, due to his decisions. His inability to think about ANYONE but himself. Caring more of the Dutton name, than his sister’s future. She was a CHILD, that didn’t know any better. That trusted her brother to help her, and he destroyed her soul instead. “Why do you care so fucking much?!” She didn’t know who she thought she was yelling at. She knew someone was physically in the room with her. She knew it wasn’t her father. He would have already had her sedated again. And it wasn’t Jamie, she could smell his fear from the parking lot.

Rip let her scream and cry. He could tell, she didn’t see him. She wasn’t angry and raging at him. He let her pull on the restraints, until she pulled took hard and winced. He couldn’t take pushing her anymore. HE couldn’t continue watching her emotionally struggle and NOT try to comfort her. Rip left his chair, and carefully sat on the side of her bed. She looked terrified and confused when his weight shifted the hospital mattress. She was eerily quiet and still. He reached for her wrist, but she immediately jerked away. Hissing at the pain shooting to her arm. “Since when do you pull away from me?” He asked, so softly, he watched her eyes suddenly clear. Recognition evident on her face, as her features relaxed. The monitor beeping rapidly by her bed, began to slow. The tension in her jaw and shoulders disappeared. All the fight, quickly draining from her small body. She never pulled away from him, not like that, and the guilt was evident on her face. Her chin trembled, even though she tried to cover it. He carefully reached for the padded restraint, and popped the buttons free. She didn’t immediately pull her hand away. She didn’t try to bolt from the bed. She remained still. “Please, Beth,” he muttered, his fingers running over the thick white bandage. Watching the tears still fall slowly down her flushed cheeks. Her fingers twitching, as if she wanted to reach for him, but was holding herself back, for whatever reason was circling in her head. He wouldn’t coax her. He wanted her to come to him willingly. “Who hurt you?” He whispered, running his fingers soothingly up and down her forearm. Catching the involuntary tremor run through her. Watching the goosebumps develop on her skin.

The moment she felt his fingers on her skin, her vision cleared, and she finally saw who she’d been screaming at. She wasn’t embarrassed. She wasn’t ashamed of her emotions. She was devastated she took out her pain and rage on him. He didn’t deserve it. He never deserved anything she didn’t him. “Who hasn’t?” She muttered, too exhausted to fight him. If she told him, it would all be over. Everyone would leave her alone. She wouldn’t have anything else to hide. If he walked away, at least she’d have an answer. At least she’d know if it was over or not.

Rip expected the response. From the time they met, till now, he watched either her family using and treating her badly; or whatever boyfriend she decided to bring home, talking to her a certain way. Her father meant well, but he didn’t know how to guide her. He didn’t know how to rein her in, without her feeling controlled. He loved her, would die for her, but couldn’t figure out how to fix whatever was hurting her, so he gave in to whatever she wanted in the moment. He didn’t know how her mother treated her personally, but heard the stories. She was tough on her daughter, to the point, John had to step in from time to time. She coddled the boys, explaining why they were all so much softer than Beth. She didn’t spend much time with Lee when she returned home from college or after graduating. She NEVER voluntarily spent time with Jamie if she could help it. The hostility she had towards her older brother was so thick in the air, everyone could feel it. He knew the man had done something to have her suddenly turn on him so viciously. They weren’t close growing up, but they didn’t hate each other. “Was it me?” He had to ask, just in case he had done something to hurt her without realizing it.

“God, no! What could you have done?” She couldn’t help reply immediately. Her fingers catching his, as if trying to reassure him, she wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t scared of him or frustrated. She was able to finally take a deep breath, as the electrical current from his touch, traveled up her arm. She could smell him, now that he was sitting so close. She could feel the heat from his body. She could almost feel his breath on her face. His presence was so warm, so calming; she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for him. She wanted to apologize, but knew he didn’t like when she did.

The first time she pulled on his jacket, he didn’t respond. She touched and grabbed him all the time, especially when she was feeling vulnerable. He never wanted her to feel taken advantage of in those moments. He wanted her to feel safe and protected, on her terms. “If I guess, will you tell me?” He asked softly, unsnapping the last restraint. Before he could even pull his hand away, her arms were around his neck. Nails digging into his jacket. He was told by the doctors before he came in the room, don’t remove the restraints. Don’t let her manipulate the situation if he wanted answers. But who the hell would tell anyone anything, tied to a bed? Being forcibly medicated. Forced to tell secrets, she wasn’t ready to tell. They could try to have him removed, he doubted John or Lynell would let that happen. “Baby, please,” he muttered, as she buried her face in his neck. Breathing him in for the first time in three days, but he was doing the same. He could feel her body relax into him. The monitor by the bed returned to normal. All he could do, for a few long minutes, was caress her nearly bare back. Running his fingers up and down her spine. Kissing her neck and shoulder. “Let me help you,” he whispered in her ear.

Beth couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop herself from quickly throwing herself into his lap. She didn’t know why. She was never like that with anyone. She didn’t need anyone, until now. Until she realized she always had, and he was right in front of her. She was just too stubborn to admit it. She felt completely safe with his arms around her. She felt protected. His hands running up and down her back, caused goosebumps to cover her skin. The smell of his skin, made all the circling thoughts disappear. Her body calmed so easily for him, when she allowed it. “I can try,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his shoulder. His hand on back of her neck, reminding her she didn’t have to fight alone.

Rip didn’t have to guess, he already knew. Only a few people could upset her so deeply, she would try to take her own life. “What did Jamie do?” He asked low in her ear, feeling her breath hitch, and her body momentarily tense, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t scream for him to get out. He could feel the deep, even breath against his neck. She was calming herself, thinking before she spoke. Trying to figure out how much to reveal.

Beth knew it was just a good guess that Jamie would be the one to push her over the edge. He was the only one she had constant, violent conflicts with. The only one she verbalized hating. Ninety percent of the time, he was the one she was screaming about at the dining room table. “He’s a fucking evil prick,” she replied, after a moment of deep breaths and the feeling of Rips hands on her bare skin. He blamed her for the things HE did to HER. Just because she asked for HELP. She didn’t ask for him to rip out her womb and kill her baby. She didn’t ask for an abortion. She didn’t ask to be taken to a doctor. Jamie could have told her to tell their father, and she would have blindly agreed. Why she didn’t go to Lynell, she would never know. Maybe if she had been at the house that day, she would have been given a different option. Maybe if it had been Lee sitting in the dining room that morning, she would have been taken care of.

Rip was prepared for any rant she needed to get her secrets out. He wasn’t prepared for her quiet seething. He had to pull away, just enough to see her face. Caressing her cheek. Seeing the dark marks on the left side of her face, clearly, for the first time. “Is that why you have a bruise on your cheek?” He had to ask. They’d all seen the marks, but assumed she fell trying to get to the barn. Rip didn’t say anything, but had a feeling they weren’t from her own doing, or an accident. Her knuckles were cut and bruised. She had a scrape on her elbow and hip. Like someone punched her so hard, she lost her balance. “Did the little fucker hit you?” He felt his own rage began burning in his chest, as he tried to trace the marks on her face. Could he see Jamie hitting his sister? Yes and no. He’d never seen the older man hit anyone, or even try. He wasn’t tough. He didn’t go looking for a fight. On the other hand, he didn’t know first hand how pissed off Beth could become. That was no reason to hit her. Rip had plenty of experience walking away, and getting her to stop any physical attack she was angry enough to commit. She couldn’t actually hurt him. She was too small to do that much damage, when he knew she didn’t mean it. He had plenty of bruises and scratches from her, he never once hit her back. He listened to her. He comforted, whether she wanted it or not. He became a constant for her, instead of a threat.

Beth barely remembered Jamie punching her. She did, but it was like it happened in a dream. Her cheek didn’t hurt. She couldn’t see what Rip saw, obviously it was enough to make him notice. “Please, he hits like a pussy,” she said, catching his hand before he could examine her face again. Kissing his palm, and placing it back on the blanket. She didn’t need the coddling. She didn’t need THAT kind of attention. She just needed him to sit and hold her, talk to her. She didn’t need him getting pissed off and belligerent because of something she could barely remember and wouldn’t matter in the end.

He remembered the day he found her like it was still happening in his head. She spent a few hours in his cabin, before wandering back to the house. He should have kept her in bed longer. He should have offered to sleep in with her. He should have begged her to stay. But he let her leave. Watching her until she reached her father’s doorstep, before going back inside. Her face was perfect when she left. He would have remembered a bruise. He would have remembered random scrapes on the left side of her body. “Well you didn’t have it when I saw you a few hours before I found you in the tack room,” he said gently, letting her place his hand back on her thigh. Instead of trying to get her to look up again, he kissed her temple. Massaged the sore muscles from her thigh, all the way her hip. “What happened?” He whispered, kissing her cheek. She was so close to telling him everything, he could feel the air turn thick around them. He could feel her hand cover his, stopping his movements. Gripping his fingers, as the emotional pain began to simmer just below the surface.

What hadn’t happened between her and her brother? She didn’t want to say the words out loud. She thought about lying, but knew he’d see right through her. And as she took a deep breath, she couldn’t help but think, it didn’t matter anymore. Hiding didn’t make sense anymore. She wasn’t a child. She couldn’t be punished. She could always walk away, if she didn’t like what they said. “I killed our mother,” she muttered, nuzzling his cheek, breathing him in. Feeling the familiar roughness of his beard against her sensitive skin. Needing to feel ANYTHING but the agony coursing through her veins. The burning tears behind her eyes. The churning nausea in her belly.

Rip couldn’t believe her brother could think she was responsible for their mother’s death, let alone say the words out loud. He’d never heard anyone say she caused her mother to fall off her horse that day. Or she shouldn’t have been out there with her. He never heard anything growing up on the ranch, except, a horse crushed her mother’s chest. She was dead before John and the rest of the cowboys found her and Kaycee at the edge of the fence line. Meanwhile, Lee had to take Beth to the emergency room for a broken arm. That was the story he heard over and over again; even from her. But she rarely talked about it. “Did he say that to you?” He asked low in her ear, still running his hand up and down her back. He could only imagine how badly those words hurt. He knew it ripped apart her chest, shattered her heart. It enraged her. It pissed him off, and it wasn’t his mother. At least he DID murder his step father. He physically did the act. It wasn’t an accident. He contemplated it for a long time. He wished he’d done it sooner. He gladly and fearfully admitted it. She never killed anyone. “Baby, you know that’s not what happened that day,” he whispered, kissing that spot behind her ear that caused her breath to catch.

If it wasn’t her fault, then why did her mother make her feel like it was? Why did she look at her with frustration and anger? Why did she never treat her, like she treated her brother? Why was she different? Why was she meant to be hard and they weren’t? The only person to EVER treat her with distain, was her own mother. “Then why did she say it?” She asked, not in anger like she thought she would, it was barely a mutter. She didn’t want her father to hear. She knew he and Lynell were right outside the door, trying to figure out what was killing her, in order to try to save her. “Why were her last words to me in anger and hate?” Beth still remembered the look in her mother’s eyes when she told her to go find her father. Telling her it was HER problem to fix. Knowing Beth had no idea where she was on the property. That she wasn’t good or even decent on her horse. That she didn’t even know where her father would be when she reached the house. How could her mother expect her to fix it? “Kaycee almost gotten eaten by wolves because I left him out there, with her.” She regretted not convincing their mother to send her brother instead. He was better on a horse. He could navigate the pastures better and remember where they were. He wasn’t afraid of his horse or to ride hard. But she likely didn’t want to be alone with her.

Rip had heard the story from Lloyd and a couple other older cowboys that stayed around longer than most. Her mother forced her on the horse that day. Beth had argued and cried, wanting to stay with her father. Kaycee had been teasing her, making it worse before they even left the barn. Her mother making judgmental comments. He could only imagine what was said, once they got out of everyone’s earshot. He heard the horse got spooked, threw her mother, and fell only top of her. It was no one’s fault, but nature. “Baby, you didn’t kill your mother; a horse did,” he whispered, kissing the cover of her mouth. She didn’t turn towards him like she normally would. She barely looked up. And by the painful look in her watery green eyes, she really did believe it. She honestly thought her mother’s death was her fault. That she could have, somehow, changed the outcome of that day. Jamie didn’t put that thought in her head, it had been there for over twenty years. “It was an accident,” he muttered, knowing no matter what he said, she would eventually have to come to terms with what happened on her own. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be there for her, comfort her, reassure that she did nothing wrong that day. He CONVINCE her to believe anything, she sent a lifetime rejecting.

It might have been an accident. She didn’t MEAN for her mother to get thrown from her horse. She didn’t plan for the horse to lose its balance and land on her. She didn’t plan to get lost of the way back to the barn, looking for her father, or anyone that could help her. She just wanted to stay home. She wanted to be left alone. She wasn’t ready or confident enough to be on a horse. “Accidents can still be someone’s fault, Rip,” she muttered, a few stray tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t stop from leaning into his touch, when she felt Rips fingers wiping them away. She needed to feel the electrical current and warm flush that covered her skin, every time he touched her. She needed him close. As if reading her mind, his hand tightened on her back. His lips were back on her neck and shoulder. His presence surrounding her, was the only thing that kept her talking. “If I woulda stayed home that day, she wouldn’t have fallen,” she whimpered, remembering arguing and crying that morning. Not wanting to go. Telling her mother to just take Kaycee. Even her father tried to reason with his wife. He was one of the few, that always tried to take Beth’s side; when she was right. He didn’t think she should be forced to go. He didn’t understand why, all of a certain, she was trying to force their daughter on a horse. Even Lee offered to keep an eye on her; he hated branding days. Her oldest brother would have given ANYTHING to get out of it. Why she didn’t just run off like she usually did, she didn’t know. “If I woulda practiced more on that fucking horse, like she told me to, it wouldn’t have happened.” Beth had tried. Her father and Lloyd had practiced with her. They tried to make her more comfortable. The tried to give her more confidence. But she was too afraid. She was too nervous. The horse could feel it, and she couldn’t make her body relax enough, for the horse to feel comfortable. she still hadn’t been on a horse since that day. It wasn’t worth it. “If I woulda stayed on the other side of the gate, I wouldn’t have spooked her horse and she wouldn’t have died.” She tried to cover her voice cracking at the end, but failed. She felt her chin tremble. She couldn’t help chewing her bottom lip, to stop the cries that threatened to escape her chest. They didn’t have the best relationship, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss and love her mother. It didn’t mean she didn’t think about her every day.

Rip didn’t believe anyone, but her mother was responsible. She had two children, out in a field, miles away from home, and one couldn’t ride. Beth couldn’t navigate, she still couldn’t. She had a hyper active, know it all, spoiled little boy, continuously antagonizing his sister. And encouraging his behavior, instead of helping her daughter feel better on a dangerous animal. If Beth had done everything right that day, if Kaycee hadn’t been an asshole, their mother still could have died. Her horse still could have startled and bucked her off. It still could have fallen on her. There was nothing anyone could do to change what happened. “You don’t know that,” he whispered, as she turned her face back into his neck, as he let her. If she needed to hide, she deserved it. He didn’t expect her to reveal as much as she had. He expected a bigger fight and more hateful words. He was proud of her for telling the truth. Finally getting the pain off her chest. Sharing it with him. She could relax and hide all she wanted.

All Beth could remember, was the hate and anger in her mother’s eyes. The frustration in her voice. The blame she dished out, moments before Beth climbed back on her horse. She remembered the way her father screamed at her. She didn’t hold it against him, but it still haunted her. The terror in his eyes. The look of guilt on his face; knowing he could have stopped her from going, and failed. Lee was the only one that had treated her like glass. Carrying and talking to her, like the child she was. Taking care of her, reassuring her. Even though it was his mother too. “She made sure I did,” she muttered into his skin. Surprised he didn’t try to get her to look at him. He liked to see her face. And she knew, if she could see his, she would see nothing but empathy and compassion. The need to shield her from the monsters inside her own head. The need to take away the words her mother left behind. The words she didn’t know if Jamie meant anymore.

For the first time in their twenty year relationship, Rip didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know how to get the guilt and shame and fear out of her head. Her mother left a scar on her soul, he didn’t know if anyone could fix. “Do you want me to get your dad?” He asked softly, massaging the sore muscles in her neck. Keeping an eye on the monitor, in case her heart rate increased, or she began to panic and just didn’t show it. She was too good at hiding her true feelings. Too good at compartmentalizing. Pushing her emotions to the side and focusing on the problem directly in front of her.

The last thing she wanted, was for her father to blame himself for something else she’d done. He had enough anger and doubt of his own. He lost his partner. She could imagine what it felt like. If she lost Rip, she wouldn’t see the point in continuing. It would destroy her. Her dad didn’t need anymore baggage to pile upon his grief. “I don’t want him to know,” she muttered, kissing his neck for the first time since she went into the barn with Jamie. His skin tasted like sweat, but when didn’t it? If they hadn’t just gotten out of the shower together, it was the way his skin normally tasted like. She caressed his cheek. Dropped her arm from around his neck, as the throbbing in her wrist began again. But she wasn’t ready for the next round of drugs. She didn’t want to go to sleep. She wanted to spend as much quiet time with him as she could. “I don’t want him to see her that way.” It wasn’t her father’s fault that she couldn’t ride a horse, or that her mother wouldn’t leave her be. He had a ranch to run. He had cowboys to boss around and cattle to maintain. He loved his wife. He saw a part of her, Beth couldn’t see. Like Rip saw something in her, that she couldn’t see in herself. She couldn’t take that away from him. She wouldn’t.

There was no way, she could keep her secrets from her father anymore. She couldn’t hide from the rest of her family. They were all waiting for her to tell the truth for the first time. John had been pacing the halls, assuming the worst things in the world had happened to his daughter. Even Rip assumed it had to be something that brought her so much shame and guilt, for her to hide so long. He could imagine, her father would be slightly relieved, it was something he could possible fix. HE could reassure her. He could remind her exactly what happened that day. He could make her see reality. If she could let him in. “Baby, he needs to know,” he whispered, knowing she would never tell him. She would never say the words to her father’s face. She would never cry and tell how she really felt that day, not in front of John. That man was God to her. She would do anything, including die, for him. She would protect him at all cost. “He can’t help you, if he doesn’t know who hurt you,” he tried to reassure, knowing John could hear plenty through the poorly insulated door. He could see the man walking back and forth in front of the window. He could see Lynells shadow standing just out of view. If he had to guess, they both already heard every word. “Baby, you can’t do this again,” he said against her temple. He couldn’t find her unconscious and cold again. He couldn’t find her bleeding out and not responding. He already wouldn’t be able to forget what her cold, blue lips felt like against his, as he preformed CPR.

Beth didn’t care if Rip told her father everything she said. She didn’t care if he was listening at the door, which she assumed he was. As long as she didn’t have to say it to his face, she didn’t care how he found out. It wouldn’t be from her. And by the way Rip kissed her neck, held her a little tighter; he knew it was one battle he would never win. “I told you; now can I go home?” She asked, finally moving away enough to see his face. Her fingers running through his soft beard, but caressing his cheek. Holding his gaze, as if her life depended on it.

Rip leaned in, and captured her lips in a more loving kiss. No hesitation. No teasing. Just him, giving her exactly what she wanted. Nuzzling her nose, as she pulled away, just to breathe the same air as him. He could see and feel how much she loved him. She never needed to say the words. She was so quiet, relaxed with him. “What else did Jamie do?” He asked, a little caution in his voice. A little hesitation, as he held his breath. Watching her face go from relaxed, to confused. He could see her searching her brain for the answer he wanted. And he could see when she found it. Her eyes darkened. Her cheeks flushed all over again. He felt her heart pounding in her neck, seconds before the monitor picked up again. She began to fidget and try to move away. “Baby, I already know,” he reassured, his tone, the softness of his touch, never changing. This was the secret that would hurt the most. The one that if he responded the wrong way, would ruin everything; it would destroy her. He was determined to be as understanding and loving as possible, if she would say the words out loud.

Beth knew what he wanted. She could see how much he thought he knew. She could see the slight devastation on his face. A dim fire burning in his eyes, when she dared look at him. Could the doctors have told them from the hospital exam, yes? Was it likely, probably not. It wouldn’t have been that important, considering everything else she’d done to herself. Someone else told him, or he figured it out on his own. The scar had been plastered on her lower belly for two decades. Assuming he just didn’t see it, was idiotic. He’d seen it a thousand times, touched it, but never asked where it came from. Never asked what caused the damage, or what it meant. She knew everyone had seen it at some point. When she wore a bikini, her scar would show if she moved a certain way. Every new partner asked. She never gave a complete answer, but they asked. Her family, Rip, never said a word. In a part of her mind, she thought they always knew deep down. She still didn’t want to talk about that day. She had never articulated how she felt or even what happened, out loud. “Know what?” She asked, focusing her gaze on the corner of the room, instead of his loving face. She could feel he knew. She didn’t know how, but he knew. And she knew, she wasn’t doing a good job covering her emotions anymore.

Rip wanted to back off. What business was it of his, to push her to talk about her medical trauma? To tell him the details of what someone did to her. To relive the confusion and fear. But he could see, it was the single event that changed her connection with him. It was the one incident that destroyed her for the next twenty years. It was the single reason she never said I love you back, never stayed, always found a reason to run away. She had to get it off her chest. It wasn’t fair, to continue carrying all her pain, alone. “Jamie told us what happened,” he said as carefully as he could, but saw her jaw tense. If he could have found another way to not bring up her brother, he would have, but Jamie was the only one that knew. He was the one to take her to a clinic on the reservation. He was the one that convinced the nurse, sterilization was fine. The Dutton boy signed medical consent to kill Rips baby, to take his sister’s womb. And not tell her anything. He didn’t prepare her for what was about to happen. He didn’t give her an option to go into town, tell their father, tell anyone. He made all the decisions for her. And he knew by the broken look in her watery eyes, she would have made a different choice.

Beth couldn’t help turning the pain in her belly into anger. It felt like she’d been ripped open all over again. Like she was feeling the emptiness inside her for the first time. She tried to push herself away, but Rips hand on her back, refused to move. “If you fucking know everything, why force me to relive it?!” She couldn’t help but scream. If he really knew what happened twenty years ago, the details, why make her remember? Why force those emotions? No pill could fix the shame she felt. No therapist could take away the ache for something, she could no longer have. The guilt for taking it away from the person she loved the most.

Rip was surprised when she only struggled for a moment, only tried to push herself away once, before giving up. Realizing he wasn’t gonna let go. That she couldn’t just run away and pretend nothing happened. She thought she could just leave and never think about him again. That only caused her to feel more isolated. It only made her want and miss him more. Rip only continued pushing, because he knew, he could finally get her to stay. He could finally get her to settle and accept that no matter what, she was loved and wanted. “Because I want to hear it from you,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. He was surprised she didn’t push him away. Scream for him to leave. That it was none of his business. That she didn’t want to talk to him about it. She didn’t. She inhaled sharply, as a sob tried to escape her chest. Rip took the chance, and kissed her so softly, she had to lean into him to get more contact. He felt the familiar buzz in his ears, that he heard every time he kissed her. He felt complete with her in his arms. He had a purpose, when she looked at him, like she was now. Hurting, lost, confused; but he could fix it. “He told us what he did. That he wished he would have made you tell your dad. That he wished he’d made a different decision for you,” he whispered, against her lips, giving her no chance to deny or ignore what was happening. He wanted her to say it, so there wasn’t anything else holding her back. He wanted her to feel she could tell him anything, and he’d still be right by her side. “But only YOU know what you went through. Only YOU can tell me how to help you,” he muttered, covering her lips again, as a whimper left her chest. His words might not have sunk into her subconscious, but physically, he could make her feel it.

Beth kissed him for as long as her lungs would allow. She felt so loved and so safe, she was reluctant to pull away. His lips on hers, caused a warm flow of electricity to run through her body. The taste of his tongue caused all the anxiety and jumble of thoughts disappeared. But the moment she had to pull away, she felt cold again. The panic rushing through her body all over again. “Don’t do this, Rip,” she muttered, knowing her brother didn’t have all the information to give. He had enough. He had the medical knowledge of what they did. She didn’t tell Jamie everything. She showed him the rest and that was the end of the conversation. He asked who the father was, over and over again, but that was her secret to keep. “You think you wanna know, but you have no idea how much it’s gonna break us,” she whimpered, releasing a shaky breath, as fear began to consume every thought. All she could focus on, was Rip leaving the moment she said the words out loud. Him finally giving up on her. She couldn’t take the thought, let alone the reality of it potentially happening any moment.

After everything they went through, Rip knew nothing could break them. Nothing could tear them apart. It didn’t matter how long she tried to stay away, he was always the first person she search for when returning home. She loved him, and he wouldn’t let anything destroy that. “Nothing, can break us,” he reassured, his hands wandering to her hips, before gently coaxing her into his lap. She came to him willingly. Whimpering and chewing her bottom lip, when he tried to get her to look up. Tried to get the eyes contact he wanted. Instead, he gave in and let her bury her face in his neck again. As long as she continued talking, she could hide all she wanted. She was already emotionally and physically exhausted. He could tell her wrists ached, her heart was breaking. He kissed her forehead and temple. Buried his nose in her messy blonde curls, and let his calm heart beat settle her. “Twenty years later, and I’m still sitting here, trying to figure out how to help you,” he reminded, holding her a little tighter, as a quiet sob escaped her lips. He knew she regretted losing all that time with him, so did he. He hated that he hadn’t sat with her and forced her to talk long before he found her in the tack room. He saw the pain. He knew something was wrong. He let his own fear of her running away, stop him from being what she really needed. “Stop pushing me away and just say it,” he whispered, kissing her neck. Refusing to shush the quiet sobs she finally felt safe enough to release. He wanted her to be vulnerable. He wanted her to scream and cry, knowing he was right there to comfort her. She spent so long comforting herself, she deserved to grieve and know she didn’t have to alone. She didn’t have to be strong all the time. She didn’t have to bounce back, because some else’s problems were more important than her own. She was worth the time. “I already know.” He knew as much as Jamie did. Learned a little more from a nurse when he started asking questions on what could have happened to her so long ago.

Her brother asked her who the father was, she didn’t say. She thought it was a dumb question. She kept her relationship with Rip a secret, but everyone still knew. If it was obvious to the other ranchers, her father definitely knew, which meant Lee knew. No one ever said anything to her. No one tried to keep her away from him. But her brother pretended to have no clue. “You can’t know, because Jamie didn’t,” she muttered, a confession whether she knew it or not. The only reason she never told who the father was, was to save Rip from hearing it from someone else. She knew she’d eventually have to tell him. If she wanted to be with him, she couldn’t carry the lie with her.

Rip gave her a little credit. After the pregnancy ‘scare’, she broke up with him. He didn’t see her naked again for a few years, but he wasn’t stupid. Her attitude changed dramatically after that day. Her views of life changed. The way she carried herself. She was different. Jamie confirming her age was all he really needed. “I know it was mine,” he admitted, moving the hair from her face, even though she continued to hide. He knew the baby was his, from the moment she said her period was late. Back then, he was the only one she’d been with. Why Jamie even bothered to ask, he had no idea. He was the only one she hung all over. The only one they ever saw her waiting for in the mornings and late afternoons. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s. “I knew long before you ended up in this fucking bed,” he said with a little more emotion. He should have asked more questions that day. He should have made her feel that she could tell him anything. It was his baby. His responsibility to make her feel safe and comfortable. If he would have stopped her from leaving with Jamie that day, they could have figured it out. HE would have figured it out. “Jamie didn’t have to say a fucking word.” He wasn’t surprised when the man told them all she’d been pregnant at fourteen. Really no one was, but John. The look on Lynells face, her silence, screamed she at least suspected. He didn’t blink, when he felt her hand on his back. Or when everyone looked to him. He couldn’t say anything. When Jamie said he’d taken her to the reservations clinic, everyone knew what it meant, but hearing the words, set off their father. Rip did nothing, but turn back to Beth’s room, as John shoved him against the wall. He didn’t care what happened to the man. All he cared about was the woman hurting so much, she’d rather die than continue fighting.

For a long moment, Beth just listened to the sound of his steady breathing. She released a deep breath, at the feeling of strong chest against her cheek. “How?” She asked, swallowing hard, as she tried to wipe her wet cheek, but felt her hand brushed away, and his fingers taking their place. She leaned into his touch like a magnet. Kissing the palm of his hand, as he brushed away her tears. She didn’t feel the need to push him away anymore. She didn’t feel the weight of her decisions weighing her down. She didn’t see the past when she felt him. She just felt him, in THAT moment. It didn’t really matter how he found out, or thought he knew before Jamie’s dramatic confession. She didn’t have anything left to hide anymore.

“Even back then, you couldn’t lie to me without it being written all over your face,” he whispered, tilting her chin, and kissing her lovingly. Not forcing her to look up. Just wanting her to feel all the comfort she lacked for so long. Her thighs tightening against his. Her fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck. “I knew when you said the test was negative,” he muttered against her lips, as her eyes fluttered open and found his. If he didn’t know for certain in that moment, he realized at some point, she lied that day. After two decades of patterns, the same facial expressions, avoidance, attitude changes. He learned to read her body and face, over years of observation. He knew what every little flinch meant. “I saw the scar every time you took your clothes off,” he whispered, watching her eyes lighten. Her chin tremble. She knew he could see it. She also knew, it was unlikely he would voluntarily ask. If he said or did the wrong thing, she’d disappear for years. He never asked. He only touched it by accident or coincidence. He never brought attention to it, no matter what they were doing. “I thought, you would tell me eventually, but that never happened.” Rip really did think that if he loved her enough, showed her how much he cared, she’d feel comfortable enough to tell him the truth. She would share she couldn’t have children and why. It wouldn’t change anything between them, in his mind. In hers, she assumed the worst.

Beth felt both, elated that the man she loved, wasn’t turning his back on her, and devastated for the amount of time she wasted to tell him the truth. His eyes weren’t filled with betrayal and anger, like she feared. He was sweet and comforting. His arms were strong around her, but his eyes were so soft. “I’m sorry, Rip,” she whispered, now feeling like they lost twenty years for nothing. All that time, she could have been building something with him, and she continued pushing him away. They could have moved off the ranch by now, been married, started something for themselves. “I don’t know what else to say,” she muttered, nuzzling his cheek. Not able to touch him enough. Not able to feel the heat from his skin enough. She couldn’t help whining and trying to push the leather jacket from his shoulders. She didn’t understand why he was still wearing it anyway.

Rip couldn’t help but laugh. Kissing her cheek and catching the hand that continued tugging lightly on his jacket. Kissing her knuckles and fingertips. Shushing her when he felt a frustrated sigh against his neck. “I gotcha, baby,” he muttered, laughing low in his chest again, when she didn’t move, as he tried to shrug off the offending material. He couldn’t. He was too afraid to move suddenly and accidentally hurt her. Instead of continuing to listen to her whine, his fingers gently grabbed the spot under her ribs that made her giggle; and he wasn’t disappointed. The way she pulled away just enough, to push his hand away. The way her eyes lit up, the sweet smile on her face; it reminded him of when they were sixteen. For a moment, she forgot everything. She didn’t feel the guilt and fear. She wasn’t thinking about her trauma. He didn’t think she even saw the medical equipment in the corner of the room, or noticed where they were. “You are so beautiful,” he said, watching her cheeks flush and her bite her bottom lip. Her fingers running along the buttons of his shirt. He carefully slipped the jacket from his arms, tossing it on the chair by the bed. “You behave,” he half laughed, covering her hand on his chest. Undoing the buttons on his black shirt, as she gave a nod in response. He saw the spark ignite in her eyes. The sideways smile. Her wandering eyes. He couldn’t read her mind, but he could see the familiar look. He didn’t draw many lines with her, but having sex in a hospital, was gonna be one of them. He gave in to her in a lot of places, a lot of situations, not this time. “Lay down, princess,” he said, helping her climb from his lap with a pout on her face.

She watched him start to kick off his boots and toss his button up on the chair across the room. She hadn’t noticed the sweat pants, until he stood up. She was so used to him wearing jeans, she hadn’t even felt the fabric against her thighs. She didn’t even know he owned anything that could be considered pajamas. He slept in an undershirt and boxers, every night. No deviation. If they had sex, at some point, he was putting clothes back on. Somehow, it allowed him to feel more comfortable with her being naked and vulnerable. Always ready to defend her. “They’re not gonna let you lay with me,” she muttered, knowing she sounded defeated, but she wanted to lay in his arms. She wanted to feel his breath on her face. She wanted to know he was right next to her. “You’re gonna get yelled at,” she almost teased, as he continued to move the monitor to the other side of the bed and rearrange the wires and IVs still attached to her body. She knew from experience, they’d kick him out of the room. The first time she was hospitalized, while half conscious and in pain, Lynell tried to lay with her. She tried to physically comfort her for as long as she could, until the nurse came in. It was before she became the Governor, but they still threw her out of the room.

Rip knew she was being discharged soon anyway. It didn’t matter what he did. “Yeah, I’d like anyone to come in the hospital room of the daughter of Commissioner John Dutton and tell anyone what to do; with Lynell in the hallway, I don’t see that happening,” he said with amusement, seeing the familiar shadow still pacing on the other side of the shaded window. The governor keeping watch, like a panther protecting her little cub. He honestly didn’t believe anyone was brave enough to push past her. He didn’t think anyone would tell him, he couldn’t be in her bed. Not after they all used him to get the information they wanted in the first place.

He watched her move to the side of the bed, closest to the medical monitor. The bashful smile that slowly appeared, as she realized he wasn’t kidding, made the corner of his mouth twitch. He carefully slid into the space she just vacated, lying on his back like normal. Lifting his left arm, and moving the blonde curls back over her shoulder. She looked happier. Her eyes shone brighter than they ever had before. She didn’t have anything else to hide, worry about. She finally looked free. “Come here, sweetheart,” he whispered, feeling her thigh move over his, her hand on his chest, before she relaxed next to him. She felt so perfect against his side. He couldn’t help running his fingers along her cheek and kissing the top of her head. “Sleep a little longer. I ain’t going anywhere,” he muttered, taking a minute to breathe her in. To run his hand up and down her bare back. To feel her WARM skin, under his touch. Trying to erase the nightmarish memories burned into his brain. He felt the sigh against the side of his face, as she looked up. Even after three days of being mostly unconscious, she still looked exhausted.

Beth felt emotionally and physically drained. She was so tired. For the first time since her mother died, she didn’t have thoughts circling around in her head as she tried to sleep. She didn’t have the harsh, cruel words echoing in her ears. She didn’t see the hard looks when she closed her eyes. She didn’t feel the tension in her back and shoulders, the ache in her neck, that had been constant for fifteen years. She felt so relaxed lying next to him. She always did, but it felt different. She felt that she could finally give him everything she had. She could love him fully. She could be open. “When can I go home?” She muttered, her eyes fluttering closed, as she felt his fingers brush the fallen stands of hair from her face. Not that she wasn’t enjoying all his attention, she wanted it, in his bed. She didn’t want to hear a heart monitor beeping, or worry about a doctor or her father walking in. She wanted to be alone with him. Just to sleep. To feel him around her, without the thoughts of what if in the back of her mind.

Rip kisses her softly, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. Watching a sleepy smile appear. She didn’t want sex. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be with him and block out the rest of the world. He’d take her to the meadow in a few days, just to allow her mind and body to rest where she loved the most. She needed the time with him, he could feel it as her fingers tightened in his shirt. The way she continued nuzzling into him. She was rarely that affectionate. “Your dad’s talking to the doctor right now,” he muttered, caressing her cheek, admiring the delicate decoration of freckles that only a few got to see. She looked so peaceful. Her face was so calm and sweet. There wasn’t a distance in her eyes. She was present with him. She felt so good lying against his chest. He wanted to wake up to her, just like that, every day. He wanted to open his eyes and immediately see her beautiful face. He wanted to hear her soft breathing next to him. Them going back home, meant she would be back in her room. That’s not what he wanted. “Move into the cabin with me,” he said, as quietly as he could. Out of all the things he HAD talked to her father about over the last three days, moving his daughter into his space wasn’t ones of them. He wanted to ask her first. It was her decision. If she wasn’t ready, he didn’t want to bring it to John’s attention. He would agree, but would she.

“What?” She thought she heard him wrong. Never in twenty years, had he asked her to stay. To not run. To build something with him. She could see it in his eyes, feel it when he held her like he was now. She could always see he wanted to ask her, beg her, but he never did. She wanted to stay. She wanted to move in with him. She wanted to fall asleep with him surrounding her. She wanted to wake up from a nightmare and be able to reach for him. She wanted to see his face, every time she woke up confused and anxious.

He could tell by the look in her eyes, she heard him just fine. Her eyes were bright green. Even exhausted, the spark still ignited. “Move in with me,” he whispered against her lips. Feeling the sharp inhale of breath against his face. If she really hadn’t heard him before, she definitely did now. The corner of her mouth twitched. Her thigh moved higher. Her fingers moved through the hair on his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose, until he received the giggle that warmed his heart. He carefully pulled the thin sheet up her body. Kissing her nose, and forehead. “I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d just say yes,” he said with so much sincerity, he almost made himself cry. He wanted to marry her since they were sixteen and he realized what love meant. He wanted to give her a life. He wanted her to BE his life. he wanted to make her breakfast every morning and actually look forward to coming home at night. He wanted her to feel special and important. He wanted her to feel someone out her first.

Beth almost began to cry all over again, but not from terror or anxiety. She was happy. “Yes,” she whispered, as a stray tear slid down her cheek. She turned and kissed the palm of his hand, his fingertips. Feeling a connection with him, she never felt before. Feeling a magnetic pull, that took her breath. Jolts of electricity running through her veins. If it were up to her, they’d be married before she left the hospital.

The way she touched him, was like she was trying to memorize him all over again. The way her fingers and lips trailed over his hand. The way she watched his face for his reaction. He was so focused on how she felt, how beautiful she was so calm, he barely heard her speak. “Are you serious?” He really didn’t want to ask, terrified she’d change her mind. That he only thought he heard her agree to marry him. He hoped she would be his wife one day, but he honestly never thought she’d stay long enough for it to happen.

All Beth had wanted since meeting him at fourteen, was to be his. For everyone to know she wasn’t just John Dutton’s daughter, she was Rip Wheelers wife. She wanted to build a home with him. If her father lost the ranch, they could buy more land somewhere else. She kissed him with everything she had. The way his arm tightened around her, he could feel the shift between them. The way he nipped at her bottom lip, took her breath. His tongue even tasted different. “I wanna marry you,” she whispered against his lips. Her fingers caressing his cheek. Feeling the softness of his beard beneath her fingertips. Watching his eyes turn bright blue, a spark flashing, as he saw the seriousness in hers. She would never give him up. She would never run away again. She had no reasons left, not to give herself to him. “I wanna be yours,” she muttered, feeling nothing but the softness of his touch against her skin. Not the hospital gown or heart monitor. Not the itchy sheets; just him. She wanted him not worrying about asking her to the fair, to the festival; she would gladly go. She didn’t want him to feel he was in competition, every time they went to a bar. She wanted to be his. She wanted everyone else to know, that no one else could come close to him. No one else stood a chance. She would be his, until she died. “I wanna stop feeling so empty,” she inhaled sharply, surprised at the anxiety and isolation she felt, thinking of returning to her fathers home. There were too many memories sucking the life out of her. Too many old scars that continued getting ripped open.

He kissed her sweetly one last time, leaving a light trail across her cheek. He never wanted her to feel so alone again. He never wanted her to worry that he wouldn’t be there to comfort and protect her when she needed it. He would never let her doubt how much he loved her. “Relax, baby,” he muttered, kissing her forehead, as she laid against his chest. It was his favorite feeling in the world. Her warm, soft skin against his. Her lips on his neck, before she finally settled. “I’m here now,” he whispered, as she sighed into his neck. Her eyes fluttering close, as he pulled the sheet up to her shoulder. She could push it off later if she needed, but he could feel the chill in her skin. She was normally a furnace, now she felt like cool river water. He felt the shiver go up her spine, as he pulled her closer, if that was possible. He waited until her breathing evened out, her body felt heavy against his side, before allowing his own eyes to close. Slightly comforted by the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to the bed. A reminder that she was so close to slipping away. He wouldn’t let her go again. He wouldn’t leave her feeling alone again. She was finally his, and he would tear the world apart, to keep her heart beating.

*

Lynelle couldn’t help smiling to herself, as she watched the two most intense, traumatized, scarred people she knew; find peace in the other. It was the first time, in three days, Rip closed his eyes, laid down. If they hadn’t made him shower, he would have sat in the chair next to her bed, not moving, until she woke up. She could see the frustration and worry in his face, when he finally agreed to leave her side for fifteen minutes. He didn’t want her waking up again, without him there to calm her. He was good at it. It typically took her and John almost an hour to get her to even try to fall back asleep. The first time she woke up, fighting and crying; ten minutes of his voice and touch, she was asleep again. After repeating the process over and over again, she barely had time to whimper, before he was shushing her back to sleep. It was amazing to watch. “They are really cute together,” she said, giving John a sideways smile, as he rolled his eyes.

Lynelle always saw the beauty in any situation. She saw things, felt things, no one else could. She was far more empathetic than the people of Montana got to see. She was warmer, more comforting. “You would say that in a place like this,” he said, slightly amused, but he could see it. How easy it was for Rip to comfort and calm his daughter. When he and Lynelle took hours to get the same results. Sometimes, his daughter didn’t even get a chance to fully wake, but the younger man had her calm and asleep again.

After the last three, almost four days they all had, watching Beth calmly sleep, was a blessing. Hearing why she was in so much pain, was a nightmare she never thought would touch the young Dutton girl. She would have never let her go to the reservation clinic. She would have never allowed a hysterectomy on a fourteen year old child. If she would have known, she could have done so much more, saved her from so much unnecessary pain. “Three days of her barely conscious, screaming, crying, begging for him; only for them to knock her out again; it’s a relief to see her so calm,” she said a little defensively, and slapped his hand away, as he pinched her side. Clearly teasing, but she was serious. Beth’s cries, broke her heart. They tore at the maternal part of her soul that would never settle. “He’s so sweet with her,” she muttered in amazement. Within an hour, he had her fighting, screaming, crying, and finally telling him everything that had ever hurt her. He had her melting, relaxing for the first time in days. “How’d you know?” She had to ask. She’d seen Beth and Rip interact in the past. She didn’t know they had been teasing each other for two decades. That they loved each other so much.

After trying for nearly fifteen years to get through to his daughter. To make her feel safe and loved. She would talk to him about the oddest things, but not the secrets that bothered her the most. He wasn’t positive Rip could get her to talk, but he knew it couldn’t hurt. “I knew if anyone could make her feel something, it would be Rip.” John had tried for years to get his daughter to tell him what was wrong. Why she was in so much pain. Who caused it. He knew, this time, it would have to be the man she loved, to break through her steel shell. “They’ve danced around each other for decades,” he said with a little amusement. Remembering all the times he watched his daughter immediately calm by the young man’s presence. How he could reel her in. How he looked at her like nothing else mattered. How her eyes lit up every time she looked at him. How she freely smiled. He knew it would always be Rip. “She’d run away, but always come back. And poor Rip, was always sitting there waiting.” John remembered how heartbroken the young man always looked when his daughter ran away. He loved her. He would do anything for her.

“When you gonna tell her she can go home?” She asked, letting his fingers trail down her back, and to her hip, pulling her into his side. She couldn’t help smiling to herself, as he continued watching his daughter through the small window. It was the first time in three days, any of them could take a breath.

John wanted to rip his daughter from the hospital as soon as the doctor would legal allow. She didn’t want to be there, and he didn’t like listening to her beg to take her home. This time, it was too nice seeing how calm and still she was. He hadn’t seen her face so peacefully angelic, since before her mother died. “After she sleeps some more.” His fingers making random patterns along her hip. He was thankful she was still there. She had every reason not to show up this time. Beth wasn’t her daughter. She had no reason to sit in a hospital for three days, sleeping on a cot. Comforting a woman she had no biological connection to. She had every reason to put her own life first for once, but she didn’t. The second he called, saying Beth needed help, she was there. Every time, she was there. “She’s never calm,” he said a little amazed. It took the man less than an hour to get the secrets, he failed to unearth for twenty years. As rough and stern as Rip was with everyone else, he was so patient and loving with his daughter. He was so protective and calm. Knowing when to push and when to comfort.

Lynelle had seen many versions of Beth over the years. She was usually tense, aggravated. Fighting with Jamie. Screaming until she was hoarse. Drinking until she couldn’t remember how chaotic she could be. She was rarely sweet. She was rarely loving and quiet. “Except with him,” she muttered, resting her head against his chest. Understanding how Beth felt, as the smell of John’s cologne and sweat washed over her. He had the same effect on her, that he had when they were sixteen and her parents wouldn’t stop fighting at night. She’d sneak out the window and ride her horse to the ranch. Somehow, he was always waiting for her. Always willing to help her forget, even if it was just for a little while. She loved him so much, back then, it terrified her. She ran away every time she felt herself falling too hard, until one day, it was too late. He married someone else. She loved her husband. She loved her son and the life she built. But now she was right back where she started; with the first man that ever took her breath away.

John remembered all the nights he’d wake up with a knot in his stomach. Somehow knowing she needed him. Every time, he snuck out to the porch, he’d see her shadow in the distance, riding her favorite horse. He would grab a few blankets and sleep with her in the barn. Sometimes she had been crying, and needed to vent. Others, she was so exhausted, all she wanted to do was sleep. “Sounds familiar, don’t it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. Still amazed, at the way she relaxed against him. How everything in her head stopped spinning for just a moment. How she could just breath and not be the Governor of an entire state. She was sixteen. She didn’t have a worry in the world. Just like Beth. He loved his wife, missed her every day. But their daughter wasn’t like her, she wasn’t even like him. She was so much like Lynelle it was almost terrifying. Her stubbornness, intelligence, the wall she put up around herself. Only allowing one person in at a time. Protecting herself at all cost.

She remembered all the nights, John would spread blankets out in an empty stall. Never having to say much. Their silence spoke so much louder and faster, than she could articulate. It was the only time she didn’t have to fall asleep, listening to screaming and fighting. She didn’t have to hear things being thrown around the house or her mother crying. She could listen to the horses settling, the wind whistling and John’s deep breathing in her ear and not worry about anything. She could smell hay and his skin, instead of cigarette smoke. “Yeah it does,” she muttered, knowing exactly what it felt like to continue running back to the first boy she fell in love with. She knew what it was like, to not trust anyone, but the man that always kept her safe. “I’m gonna get her blanket before Rip freezes to death,” she muttered, trying to pull away, but felt his arm tighten around her.

John couldn’t help tightening his grip on her hip. Stopping her from pulling away. “I can do it,” he said, feeling that she’d done more than enough over the last few days. She was just as exhausted as everyone else, and they hadn’t been still trying to run an entire state from their cell phone.

She should have let him. It was his daughter. He was Beth’s first comfort. But she wanted to. She wanted the woman to know she was still there. She wanted her to know she still cared. “Your boots will wake them,” she whispered, slipping off her heels and pushing the door open. She only paused for a moment, as the door hinge squeaked, but neither Rip or Beth moved. She wouldn’t doubt if the young man could sleep through a hurricane after the last few days he experienced. She tried to be careful, as she pulled Beth’s quilt over them. She tried not to move too fast or suddenly.

Beth wasn’t asleep when she heard the door open. By the lack of foot steps and carefulness, she knew who it was. A nurse wouldn’t care if they woke her, neither would a doctor. And she couldn’t hear her father’s heavy boots. She smelled Lynelles perfume, before she felt the woman’s fingers on her arm. Pulling her quilt up from the bottom of the bed. “Thank you,” she whispered, knowing the woman didn’t have to be there. She had an entire state to run. She had a son of her own. Beth wouldn’t complain about the woman showing up every time she needed her. She wouldn’t take it for granted. She was thankful.

All Lynell saw when she looked at Beth, in that moment, was the fifteen year old girl that just lost her mother. So confused, terrified, unsure of what was gonna happen next. Looking for answers, to questions she couldn’t articulate. Searching for guidance. She was careful, as she moved the hair from her face, kissing her temple, like she’d done a dozen times before. “You don’t have to thank me, honey,” she whispered, never expecting anything from the younger woman. She had been stuck in her trauma for so long, she needed understanding and empathy, over judgement. She needed constant love, not sternness. “Sleep a little longer, than we’ll take you home,” she whispered, rubbing a hand down her arm, before tucking the blanket around her. She’d stay a few more days, just to make sure she really was okay. To be there to reassure John that she was fine, when he woke up in the middle of the night in a panic.

Beth couldn’t help remembering all the times, after her mother died, Lynelle DID tuck her into bed; usually she was sick. Sometimes she was the one that stayed with her when she woke from a nightmare of that day. Refusing to tell her why she was crying, but the woman stayed until she fell asleep anyway. She was the one that helped her shower for days after her last suicide attempt, and the time before that. She stayed with her, while she mostly slept for days. She forced her to eat, when she sent her father away over and over again. Even when Beth was awful to her, the woman still never wavered. She’d tell her when she was wrong, but still give her the comfort and understanding she needed. It wasn’t that her mother didn’t try, but after Kaycee was born, she was an afterthought. She wasn’t the child her mother wanted, that’s how she felt. Lynelle saw her, when everyone else was watching three wild boys. She saw the pain, even when she wouldn’t speak. “Sometimes I still wish it was you,” she muttered, partly hating herself for saying the words out loud, but she meant them. She’d said it before, but the woman never said anything back. What was she supposed to say? Beth really didn’t expect her to say anything. She had no obligation. Even if she DID take on every Dutton fight like it was her own. Lynelle gave her everything her mother couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Lynelle remembered every night Beth woke up screaming, crying, when she was fourteen and fifteen. They got worse at sixteen. She remembered every phone call she received from John, letting her know the young woman tried to take her own life. The first time, she cried all the way to the hospital in Salt Lake City. She couldn’t get the image of her lying unconscious, wrists wrapped in gauze, restraints tying her to the bed. She still couldn’t believe, she hadn’t noticed the signs. She hadn’t seen the cries for help, long before she WANTED to die. Somehow, she felt like she failed. She wasn’t there when Beth needed her the most. She didn’t push when she should have. She didn’t love her enough when she had the chance. “Me too, honey,” she whispered, waiting for Beth to close her eyes, and turn back into Rips side, before glancing up. Catching the look on John’s face. She couldn’t read it. She felt guilty, but she didn’t. She couldn’t help how Beth felt. She couldn’t even help how SHE felt. She wouldn’t tell her she’s too old to still think that way. She wanted a mother now, just like she craved one at fourteen. She wouldn’t deny her the attention or guidance she needed, no matter what her father thought. If she hadn’t experienced so much trauma, if she had been watched and taken care of, maybe she would have turned out differently. Lynelle had to swallow hard, as the thoughts she pushed down for so long began to resurface. If she hadn’t been such a coward, it would have been her. If she hadn’t been so afraid to stay in the place she grew up, which she did anyway, maybe Beth would have had a fighting chance at feeling normal. Or she wouldn’t be Beth. That thought hurt worse. She wouldn’t change anything about the woman finally sleeping soundly in front of her. She would take away the pain, but keep the fire and will to survive at all cost. John didn’t have to say anything. He barely had to look at her again, before she saw the corner of his mouth turn up. The same thoughts were circling in his mind as well.